25: Chapter 25: Test Driving the Knife, Unleashing Full Power

The sound of the mecha's pressure release still echoed in his ears, but Chen Wuwang's fingers were already resting on the control panel at the edge of the observation deck.

He did not turn back, his voice slamming directly into the wind: "Xiao Dao, initiate."

Inside the cockpit, Chen Xiaodao opened his eyes.

The stillness of the control stick was broken; he gripped it tightly with his right hand and placed his left hand on the auxiliary control lever on the left.

A faint sensation of electric current came from the interface of his mechanical prosthetic limb, like an old wound reminding him—the last time he had forcibly withstood a counterattack from a Yao Beast, his left arm's Spiritual Qi had corroded down to the bone, hurting so much he had bitten down and shattered three teeth.

But now was not the time to think about such things.

"Energy rails connected."

"Main cannon charging System self-test complete."

"Sword Intent resonance module loading... 98%... 100%, ready."

As the System prompt faded, Chen Xiaodao took a deep breath and looked up at the target area three hundred meters away.

That was a simulated Zerg position model built from Spirit Stones, consisting of six underground nest units, with oscillation field generators deployed on the perimeter, specifically used to test penetrating strikes.

"Family Head, I'm going in," he said to the communication channel.

"Waiting for those words." Chen Wuwang stood on the high platform, his silver hair lifted at one corner by the wind.

His mechanical prosthetic right eye automatically switched to combat data stream mode, with dense text and waveform charts scrolling across his field of vision.

Chen Xiaodao stepped on the propulsion pedal.

The mid-tier mecha "po shan" lifted its feet off the ground, and a circle of dust exploded from the ground as the machine surged forward like a drawn sword.

He did not charge in a straight line, but instead glided along a preset Z-shaped trajectory to evade potential detection locks.

Thirty meters, fifty meters, one hundred meters—the distance rapidly shortened.

"Target group locked, preparing to release the first round of attacks." He whispered the operational procedure, his fingers already tracing preset commands on the control interface.

But just at the moment the Sword Intent was triggered, the main cannon charging progress bar stuck at 73%.

There was a delay.

0.3 seconds.

It wasn't much, but on the battlefield, it was enough for a high-tier Worker Insect to drill out from underground and tear open his cockpit.

"Slash!" he roared, forcibly urging his Spiritual Qi.

The memory of that night when the old wooden sword broke slammed into his mind—the cold wind in the ruins on that rainy night, the feel of the broken half-sword in his arms, and that lingering smell of blood.

His Sword Heart trembled, and the Meteor Sword Intent erupted with a roar!

A streak of silver-white sword light tore through the air, slashing directly at the foremost underground nest model.

Almost simultaneously, the main cannon finally finished charging, and a thick beam of Spiritual Qi energy followed closely behind, firing with a boom.

Boom—!

The sword light arrived first, slicing off half of the target; the artillery shell hit immediately after, exploding into a ball of incandescent white fire.

Smoke and dust rose into the sky, and the distant mountain walls were illuminated in crimson.

But Chen Wuwang's brow did not relax.

"Three hundred meters off target." He stared at the data panel, "The Sword Intent was released too early, the artillery trajectory was forced to correct, and energy loss was 21%. This isn't coordination, it's just making do."

There was a moment of silence in the communication channel.

Inside the cockpit, the veins on Chen Xiaodao's forehead twitched.

He looked down at his left hand—the neural interface of the mechanical prosthetic was slightly hot, a sign of System overload.

He had been too hasty with that last strike.

He clearly knew the technological System had a response delay, yet he had still followed his old habit of unleashing the sword first.

The wind whipped black shell fragments from the edge of the target area.

Those were the remnants of tunnels left by Zerg scouts last night, curled up in the sand like dead snakes.

The enemy situation was not yet cleared, and time waited for no one.

"Restart the calibration program." Chen Wuwang's voice sounded again, as cold as iron, "Call up the 'Sword Intent resonance module' and synchronize your Spiritual Qi fluctuation frequency with the main cannon's charging rhythm. This time, do not jump the gun."

"Understood." Chen Xiaodao gritted his teeth, his fingers sliding rapidly across the console to pull up the resonance calibration interface.

On the screen, two waveform lines began to slowly converge—one from the Spiritual Qi flow in his Meridians, and the other from the mecha's main cannon energy ascent curve.

Beep... beep... beep...

The two lines overlapped.

"Synchronization complete," the System prompted.

Chen Xiaodao closed his eyes.

This time, he no longer thought about the speed of drawing his sword, but instead recalled the day he was five, the feeling of touching that broken half-sword in the rubble of the ruins.

The rough texture, the broken edge, and the blood seeping from his palm.

At that moment, he was not a Cultivator, not a Genius, just a child who wanted to live.

His Sword Heart was pure.

His Spiritual Qi slowly settled, flowing along his Meridians into the mechanical prosthetic, then conducting to the mecha's core.

The entire "po shan" trembled slightly, as if it had gained a breath.

"Ready," he said.

"Then let's go again." Chen Wuwang raised his hand, his dagger unsheathing, and carved a deep mark into the stone table, "Ten rounds of Reincarnation test firing, with no more than ten breaths between each round. I want you to carve 'Sword Qi forward guidance + cannon energy compression firing' into your bones."

The next second, he swiped his fingertip, and the console emitted a sharp alarm sound—a new round of simulated enemy situation had started.

The underground nest models lit up again, all six units activated, and the oscillation field intensity was raised to level two.

Chen Xiaodao opened his eyes, a cold light flickering in his pupils.

He floored the propulsion pedal.

"po shan" surged again, this time with a steadier trajectory and faster speed.

When approaching two hundred meters, he did not strike immediately, but instead compressed the Sword Intent in the mecha's right arm, letting the energy condense in his palm into an extremely fine silver thread.

Ninety meters.

The main cannon began to charge, the progress bar rising steadily.

Seventy meters.

The Sword Qi slashed out suddenly! A slender yet solid blade of light tore through the air, precisely slicing open the force field node of the first underground nest.

Now!

The main cannon fired the compressed shot, the Spiritual Qi artillery shell roaring into the interior along the trajectory opened by the Sword Qi, detonating the core.

Boom!

The entire model instantly vaporized, leaving not even a scrap behind.

"Hit." Chen Wuwang stared at the screen, the corner of his mouth twitching imperceptibly.

Second round, third round, fourth round...

Chen Xiaodao got smoother with every shot.

The sword light became the guide for the artillery shells, each time precisely tearing open weak points in the defense, with the artillery fire following close behind, clean and decisive.

The error rate dropped from the initial three hundred meters all the way down to eighty, thirty, and finally stabilized within five meters.

But by the eighth round, a problem arose.

Under continuous high-intensity control, his forehead began to seep blood—that was capillary rupture caused by excessive mental concentration.

Worse still, the connection point between the mechanical prosthetic and his nerves emitted a piercing alarm: "Warning: Neural load exceeded, operation interruption recommended."

"Shut up." He cursed under his breath and directly cut off the pain feedback.

The ninth round began.

He forcibly raised his Spiritual Qi, and the moment the Sword Intent slashed out, the main cannon fired in synchronization.

But just as the shell left the barrel, energy overflowed and recoiled, scorching the left shoulder armor plate; the metal instantly melted into crimson liquid, dripping down.

But he didn't stop.

The tenth round.

"Last one." He said to himself in the communication channel.

Propulsion, approach, Sword Qi guidance, cannon energy compression—the movements were as smooth as if he had practiced them a thousand times.

The sword light tore through the air, the artillery shell followed close behind, roaring into the final underground nest along the trajectory.

Boom!!!

A wave of fire exploded, engulfing the entire target area.

The shockwave swept out, the blast-proof barrier in front of the observation deck hummed and vibrated, and the corners of Chen Wuwang's clothes were whipped into a frenzy.

The data panel refreshed.

[Attack duration: 1.23 seconds]

[Error margin: 0.7 meters]

[Stiffness time: 0.5 seconds]

[Energy utilization rate: 94.6%]

Chen Wuwang stared at the string of numbers, a blood-colored spiritual pattern flashing and vanishing deep within his pupils.

He turned around, facing the charred but still standing mecha in the center of the northern target area.

His voice was not loud, yet it pierced through the lingering echoes of the explosion: "Not bad, but still not fast enough! Practice again!"