216: Chapter 216 Beheading Han Zhang

A sudden change occurred.

Qin Ce's figure appeared out of thin air at the core of Wang Zhuos Team's formation. Eight Wind Cores exploded around Han Zhang and the Iron-Feathered Vulture. The swirling wind force swept them inside, tossing them up and down like two rags thrown into a washing machine, unable to escape.

The entire team's expression changed drastically.

If others didn't know Han Zhang's role, how could they not?

Han Zhang was the hub of this team, the brain of the eleven people, the central processor of this war machine.

Without him, the Iron-Feathered Vulture didn't know which direction to suppress, the Thunder Eagle didn't know at what angle to release its arcs, the Wind Falcon didn't know where to deploy its Wind Blades, and the Rock-Armored Turtle, Frost Giant Python, and Shadow Leopard didn't know when to advance, retreat, or cover positions.

Without Han Zhang, they were just eleven scattered soldiers fighting on their own.

But how did this Qin Ce see through it?

As an outsider, a Silver Rank commoner, he had observed for less than half an hour outside the battlefield, yet he had seen through the core of their team that had been cooperating for years in a single glance?

He had precisely grasped their most fragile and critical point?

Wang Zhuo's face was livid, the veins on his temples bulging.

He shouted sternly: "Qin Ce, how dare you!"

But before Qin Ce could answer, the others launched their attacks directly; Wang Zhuo's shout was merely to attract Qin Ce's attention.

Nine team members acted cleanly and decisively.

The Thunder Eagle's arcs struck from the left, weaving an impenetrable wall of electric nets, sealing off Qin Ce's retreat to the left.

The Wind Falcon's Wind Blades shot from the right, dozens of blades weaving into a net of death, sealing off Qin Ce's retreat to the right.

Although the Iron-Feathered Vulture was trapped in the Wind Cores, the other two Beast Tamers riding flying Pet Beasts dove from above, their blades condensed with Gold Rank energy, aiming straight for Qin Ce's head.

The Rock-Armored Turtle's energy wave blasted from the ground, the golden beam piercing through the mist, aiming at the Qingluan beneath Qin Ce.

The Frost Giant Python's cold air sprayed from the side and rear, white mist spreading in the air, and the temperature plummeted.

The Shadow Leopard lunged from the shadows, its sharp claws wrapped in dark, shadowy energy, sealing off Qin Ce's retreat to the rear.

From all directions, overwhelming.

Nine Gold Rank attacks bombarded Qin Ce and the Qingluan simultaneously.

Facing this overwhelming attack, Qin Ce did not show the slightest panic.

He didn't even let the Qingluan dodge.

He just reached out to brush the hair blown messy by the wind from his forehead, the corners of his mouth curling into a contemptuous sneer.

"Your reactions are too late."

The next moment, the twenty-one Phoenix Flows of wind energy condensed and compressed to the extreme within the Qingluan's body did not shoot out as long-range attacks like Wind Blades as before. Instead, two straight and slender golden blades appeared on the wing bones of the Qingluan's wings.

The golden light shone through from the inside of the wing bones, spreading along the bone structure toward the wingtips, condensing into two golden light blades about two meters long on the edges of the wings.

The light blades were as thin as cicada wings, their edges so sharp that they cut through the air silently, with only a faint humming sound echoing in the mist.

Qin Ce looked at the two golden blades, the curve of his mouth deepening slightly.

This was what he had learned from a Gold Rank Pterosaur in a previous battle—the Pterosaur had no long-range attacks, but its melee ability was almost invincible among its peers, relying on those wing claws condensed with metal energy.

The Qingluan was wind-element and lacked the enhancement of metal energy, but the Nine-fold Azure Sky's Breath Condensation talent allowed its wind energy purity to far exceed its peers. By condensing and compressing wind energy to the extreme, the resulting Wind Blades could also be used for melee combat.

He named this skill—Wind Wing Slash.

"Little Qing, charge!"

The Qingluan flapped its wings and charged toward the Wind Core array.

A Gold Rank Rending Wind Beast—a flying Pet Beast ridden by a Beast Tamer—rushed to meet it, moving extremely fast, its sharp claws wrapped in blue-gray wind energy, clawing at the Qingluan's head.

Its master was the fastest in Wang Zhuos Team and attacked the fastest; while the others were still adjusting their angles, he had already rushed in front of Qin Ce.

The Qingluan did not dodge.

It just tilted its body slightly and slashed forward with its right wing.

The golden blade on the edge of the wing drew a graceful arc in the air, slashing across the Rending Wind Beast's sharp claws.

There was no explosion, no roar.

The golden blade sliced through the Rending Wind Beast's claws like cutting tofu, sliced through its front legs, sliced through its shoulders, and swept across its body.

The Rending Wind Beast let out a shrill scream, blood gushing from the wound, scattering a mist of blood in the air.

Its massive body tilted violently and fell toward the ground.

The Beast Tamer riding it was thrown out, tumbling a few times in the air, barely stabilizing his figure, but his face was pale, his eyes filled with disbelief.

One strike.

The Gold Rank Rending Wind Beast was seriously injured by the Qingluan in one strike.

The Qingluan did not stop.

It charged into the Wind Core array with an extremely graceful and swift posture.

Eight Wind Cores surrounded Han Zhang and the Iron-Feathered Vulture, each with a different wind direction—some rotating clockwise, some counter-clockwise, some blowing upward, some pressing downward.

These wind directions were not random; they had been calculated by Qin Ce before releasing the Wind Cores. The eight Wind Cores did not form a simple Wind Prison, but a Phoenix Dance Nine Turns route fused into the Wind Prison.

From the first Wind Core to the second, from the second to the third, from the third to the fourth—the wind direction of each segment was different, and each segment required the Qingluan to pass through with a different posture, angle, and speed.

When turning left, the wind was clockwise; when turning right, the wind was counter-clockwise; when rushing upward, the wind was pressing downward; when diving, the wind was blowing upward.

This was a route that only the Qingluan could take.

Any other flying Pet Beast that rushed in would be thrown off balance by the chaotic wind directions.

But the Qingluan was different; it could feel the change in wind direction of every Wind Core even with its eyes closed. Its body knew better than its consciousness how to fly, how to turn, and how to charge.

And in the center of the Wind Core array were Han Zhang and the Iron-Feathered Vulture.

They were pulled, rotated, and tumbled by the wind forces from eight different directions, completely losing control of their bodies.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture flapped its wings desperately trying to stabilize, but with eight wind forces acting simultaneously from eight different directions, its wings were pushed off course with every flap, becoming more chaotic the more it flapped.

Han Zhang was thrown into dizziness; his hands left the reins, his feet left the stirrups, his body left the saddle, and he flew up and down in the Wind Core's force field like a leaf caught in a storm.

Then the Qingluan arrived.

The first slash.

The Qingluan rushed out from the first Wind Core, the golden blade on its right wing slashing across the Iron-Feathered Vulture's left wing.

Dozens of iron feathers were cut off at the root, black feathers dancing in the Wind Core's force field like a flock of startled crows.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture let out a scream, its body tilting violently.

The second slash.

The Qingluan turned using the wind force of the second Wind Core, slashing horizontally from left to right, the golden blade on its left wing slashing across the Iron-Feathered Vulture's back.

A long gash was cut into the hard feathers, exposing the dark red flesh underneath. Blood seeped out from the wound, was drawn away by the wind force, and formed a faint blood mist in the air.

The third slash.

The Qingluan rushed out from the third Wind Core, slashing diagonally from bottom to top, the golden blade on its right wing slashing across Han Zhang's left arm.

The combat uniform was cut open, leaving a wound deep enough to see the bone on his skin. Han Zhang let out a muffled grunt, blood streaming down his arm.

The fourth slash, the fifth slash, the sixth slash—

The Qingluan shuttled back and forth between the eight Wind Cores, every turn perfectly timed, every slash precise and ruthless.

The golden blades drew graceful arcs in the mist, like an invisible pen painting in the air. The Iron-Feathered Vulture's feathers were shaved off one by one, like black snow.

There were seven or eight wounds of varying depths on its body, dark red blood gushing from the wounds, being drawn away by the wind force, forming an increasingly dense blood mist in the center of the Wind Core array.

Han Zhang was no better off; his combat uniform was shredded, and there were fine wounds everywhere on his arms, shoulders, and thighs. Blood flowed down the wounds, dripped into the Wind Core's force field, and was rolled into tiny blood beads by the wind force, mixing with the Iron-Feathered Vulture's blood.

The seventh slash, the Qingluan rushed out from the seventh Wind Core, slashing horizontally from back to front, both wings spreading simultaneously, and the two golden blades slashed across the Iron-Feathered Vulture's abdomen.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture's abdomen was the weakest part of its entire body's defense. The golden blades cut into the flesh, slicing a foot-long gash, and blood gushed out from the wound, exploding into a blood mist in the air.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture let out a shrill, extreme scream, its body convulsed a few times, and then—it stopped moving.

Its wings stopped flapping, its eyes lost their luster, its body stopped struggling in the Wind Core's force field, just rotating mechanically with the wind force.

The eighth slash.

The Qingluan rushed out from the eighth Wind Core, slashing vertically downward from above, the golden blade on its right wing pointing straight at Han Zhang's head.

"Stop—!!!"

Wang Zhuo's roar exploded in the mist.

The Silver-Patterned Peacock flapped its wings violently, carrying him toward the Wind Core array.

On the Three Absolute Swords in his hand, the three-colored light of flame, lightning, and shadow had brightened to the extreme, and the three-colored energy on the sword body surged wildly, like a small sun about to explode.

His eyes were bloodshot, the veins on his temples bulging, his whole person like an enraged beast.

But he was too late.

The eighth slash had already fallen.

The golden blade slashed across Han Zhang's neck.

No blood gushed, no screaming or wailing.

The golden blade was too fast, so fast that Han Zhang's nerves didn't have time to transmit the signal of pain, so fast that his consciousness didn't have time to realize what had happened.

His head slid off his neck, tumbled a few times in the air, was rolled by the wind force, and mixed with the Iron-Feathered Vulture's feathers and the blood mist filling the sky.

His body still maintained the posture of being pulled by the wind force, limbs spread out, like a frog pinned in the air.

Thump.

Han Zhang's head fell to the ground, bounced twice, rolled to a rock, and stopped.

His eyes were still open, and bewilderment and unwillingness remained in his pupils.

He didn't even react until his death.

Thump.

Han Zhang's headless corpse fell from the Wind Core's force field, smashed onto the ground, and splashed up a cloud of dust.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture's corpse followed closely behind, smashing onto the ground with a dull, loud thud, shaking the ground.

In the center of the Wind Core array, that blood mist still permeated the air, lingering for a long time.

Qin Ce hovered above the Wind Core array, looking down at Han Zhang's corpse, his heart moved slightly.

He originally only wanted to destroy Wang Zhuos Team's coordination—to injure Han Zhang, make him temporarily lose his command ability, and make Wang Zhuos Team's formation appear chaotic.

He didn't expect that after eight slashes, Han Zhang would die directly.

He also didn't expect that Han Zhang's importance to Wang Zhuo was far beyond his estimation.

This person was not just the hub of Wang Zhuos Team, not just the brain of eleven people, he was the core of Wang Zhuo's entire power system.

Han Zhang was dead.

Wang Zhuo's power system had collapsed.

"Ah—!!!"

Wang Zhuo's roar came from below.

The Silver-Patterned Peacock rushed to the position of the Wind Core array, but the Wind Cores had lost the maintenance of Qin Ce's energy, the silver-white light gradually dimmed, the swirling wind force gradually weakened, and the eight Wind Cores dissipated one by one.

Wang Zhuo lunged into empty air, the three-colored light of the Three Absolute Swords slashed into empty space, blasted onto the distant mountain wall, exploded a huge flash of fire, a large piece of rock on the mountain wall was blasted to pieces, and gravel splashed.

Wang Zhuo turned his head and looked at Qin Ce.

His eyes were red, not the calm red when fighting, but a crazy, irrational red.

"Commoner—!" His voice squeezed out from his throat, like a low roar of an enraged beast, "I will kill you!"

Then, when Wang Zhuo gathered the ultimate move of the Three Absolute Swords to kill Qin Ce.

Qin Ce showed a faint smile.

"Kill me? Come!"

After speaking, he gently patted the Qingluan's neck, and then, only to see Qin Ce's figure become illusory.

The next moment, Wang Zhuo's Three Absolute Swords slashed over, but after the Three Absolute Swords slashed through, only a mass of wind-element energy exploded.

Qin Ce had long ago passed through the Shadow Sight reserved in the air earlier and returned directly to the sky!

Qin Ce hung quietly in the high sky, overlooking Wang Zhuo below, as if looking at a clown.

His goal had been achieved—Han Zhang was dead, Wang Zhuos Team's coordination was ruined, and his crisis was resolved.

As for Wang Zhuo's provocation, an irrational opponent was not worth him taking risks again.

Wang Zhuo's anger had nowhere to vent, and he could only continue to curse at the surrounding sky: "Commoner! Coward! If you have the ability, don't run! Come down and fight me!"

His voice echoed in the mist, but no one responded.

Below, the situation on the battlefield was deteriorating rapidly.

Han Zhang was dead, there was no one to command.

The Iron-Feathered Vulture was dead, there was no one to suppress from the front.

The nine people didn't know how to coordinate—the Thunder Eagle released electric arcs, but the direction of the arcs was wrong, hitting their own Pet Beasts;

The Wind Falcon's Wind Blades were off-angle, almost cutting off the head of the Rock-Armored Turtle's Beast Tamer;

The Frost Giant Python's cold air was sprayed too early, freezing the Shadow Leopard's hind legs;

The Rock-Armored Turtle's energy wave was released too late, failing to stop a Vicious Beast rushing toward Wang Zhuo.

The next moment, Wang Zhuo was knocked away by a Vicious Beast!