Consciousness struggled upward from the viscous depths of darkness.
The first sense to return was hearing.
He could hear regular, continuous shock blasts all around, as though giant hamrs were relentlessly pounding a thick tal do.
Each impact sent ripples across the surface of his mind, intensifying the dull ache originating from deep within his soul.
Next ca bodily sensation.
A cold, hard touch pressed against his back—the distinctive temperature and texture of a Black Giant Priest’s liquid-tal arm.
His body was being carried steadily, rising and falling slightly amid the ceaseless vibrations.
Finally, his biological clock reported: ti unconscious, approximately… seventeen hours and forty-three minutes.
Jie Ming’s eyes snapped open.
His vision remained blurred; the dizziness from his soul’s grave injury had not yet receded.
The first thing he saw was flowing blackness—the tightly packed backs and shoulder plates of the Black Giant Priests.
They had ford an almost perfect spherical defensive array, encasing him securely at the center.
Through the narrow gaps between their bodies, he glimpsed the frenzied flashing of multicolored lights outside: blinding white lightning, eerie green corrosive orbs, scarlet disintegration ripples…
And countless massive stones, ice spears, and tal shards, accelerated by sorcery to extre velocities, crashing like a storm against the outer periter of the defense.
Each collision caused the outermost priests’ bodies to tremble slightly. The transparent Return to Ruins Armor domain on their surfaces rippled violently, producing the sa muffled explosive thuds he had heard earlier.
Yet the domain held stubbornly—absorbing and converting all energy attacks, deflecting or rebounding physical impacts.
They resembled a black tallic sphere slowly advancing through a raging ocean of energy—or rather, a “turtle shell” enduring relentless bombardnt.
Because their movent speed… was infuriatingly slow.
Jie Ming instantly understood the situation.
Unable to breach the Return to Ruins Armor defense, the enemy had resorted to the crudest yet most effective thod: continuous barrages of sorcery laced with massive physical impact to bombard and impede them.
Every physical strike delivered montum that forced the defensive formation to hesitate montarily and readjust its center of gravity.
At the sa ti, the scattering energy shockwaves and debris constantly disrupted the surrounding elental environnt and spatial structure, making “accelerated movent” or “short-range spatial jumps” exceptionally difficult and dangerous.
Enduring the splitting agony in his skull, Jie Ming assessed the current circumstances.
Beyond the defensive periter, shadowy figures numbered more than fifty—fifth-ring wizards clad in the robes of both the Chaos Secret Cult and the Tower of Annihilation.
They circled like vultures, constantly shifting positions in the outer ring while unleashing sorcery.
Their coordination was seamless; they attacked in rotating waves, maintaining unrelenting high-intensity fire suppression.
What sank Jie Ming’s heart even further was that these enemies had clearly learned from prior encounters.
Whenever a Black Giant Priest attempted to raise its staff, at least five or six nearby enemy wizards would instantly cease their attacks, retreat violently, and simultaneously release wide-area spatial disruption ripples or smoke barriers.
Wizards from other directions would imdiately intensify their barrage, forcing the priest to interrupt casting and prioritize defense.
If the Black Giant Priests collectively tried to accelerate and break out in one direction—relying on Return to Ruins Armor to force their way through—the enemies would swarm back like maggots on bone.
They deployed force-field walls, swamp sorcery, spatial stasis, and similar techniques to slow them down, then continued hamring the “turtle shell” with storm-like attacks to kill its forward montum.
This was pure attrition warfare.
They did not need to kill Jie Ming. They only needed to pin him and his escort here, waiting for stronger forces to arrive.
“Cough… cough…” Jie Ming tried to speak, but the movent aggravated his soul injury. Violent coughing darkened his vision; a tallic sweetness rose in his mouth.
He could clearly feel his condition worsening.
The soul-tearing damage caused by forcibly mobilizing his cave-heaven before losing consciousness had not healed. Instead, it had further spread as his injuries intensified.
The sensation that his entire “self” was slowly disintegrating into fragnts grew increasingly vivid.
Waking up was less a matter of recovery and more the result of the Body-Forging thod’s “adaptive evolution” forcibly activating in desperation. His physical body, sensing mortal peril, instinctively squeezed out its last reserves of strength to drag his consciousness back—briefly—from the brink of collapse.
“I must… get moving…” Jie Ming struggled, attempting to lift his hand.
His arm felt impossibly heavy. Every tiny motion brought soul-rending agony.
He looked at the loyal, silent Black Giant Priests surrounding him.
The Return to Ruins Armor glow on their bodies remained stable, but Jie Ming knew the modified spells provided by the wizard artifacts were likely nearing the limit of their duration.
Jie Ming closed his eyes. Forcing himself to ignore the pain that threatened to drown his consciousness entirely, he once again sank his mind into his internal cave-heaven.
This ti he could not even maintain stable inner vision. He could only hazily sense the mountain-like piles of supplies within.
Among them were large quantities of spare Return to Ruins Armor activation modules and Trigram Fire Annihilation Divine Light charging substrates, all sealed in standard energy cartridges.
Mobilizing them likewise required opening spatial passages—and likewise demanded his nearly exhausted computational power.
“Arghhh!!!” A silent scream erupted deep in his soul.
Veins bulged at Jie Ming’s temples. Cold sweat instantly soaked his inner lining.
He felt as though his brain had been thrown into a at grinder—every thread of thought stretched to breaking, ready to snap at any mont.
On his body surface, fifty extrely unstable spatial vortices flickered into existence beside the Black Giant Priests. They trembled violently and collapsed after less than two seconds.
But in that fleeting window, one hundred standard energy cartridges were successfully ejected, landing precisely beside each priest.
“Replenish… wizard artifacts…” Jie Ming’s will, flickering like a dying candle, transmitted to the two nearest priest leaders.
The priests understood imdiately.
With swift, orderly movents—while maintaining the defensive formation and continued advance—they quickly seized the cartridges and pressed them into the interfaces on their wrists or chest plates.
The dark-golden glow of Return to Ruins Armor visibly solidified once more. The dark-red gems atop their staves refilled with dangerous crimson light.
But this action also exposed the fact that Jie Ming had awakened and was still attempting resistance.
The enemy barrage outside abruptly intensified—more frenzied and vicious.
At the sa ti, malicious ntal transmissions began deliberately slipping through gaps in the defensive periter, burrowing into Jie Ming’s ears in an attempt to disrupt his state of mind:
“Still struggling? What a tenacious bug!”
“It’s useless! You’re not getting away!”
“Lord Griffin is already on the way! Let’s see how long that turtle shell lasts against his power!”
“Hahaha, just wait to die, you Noren Workshop trash!”
Griffin?
From their words, the other party was likely a sixth-ring wizard.
Jie Ming’s heart sank to rock bottom.
His worst fear was coming true.
Once an enemy sixth-ring wizard arrived—even an ordinary one—the intensity of their attacks would be leagues beyond anything fifth-ring could muster.
Having just fought a sixth-ring wizard, Jie Ming had a very clear understanding of how Return to Ruins Armor perford against such power.
Moreover, the enemy might bring even more fifth-ring wizards, completely sealing off all escape routes.
Ti was sliding toward the abyss with every passing second.
The Black Giant Priests attempted several forceful acceleration breakthroughs, even enduring direct hits and using their bodies to smash through stasis fields.
But the enemy outnumbered them and coordinated flawlessly. They always swiftly filled gaps, using denser, heavier barrages to force the priests back.
After several attempts, their movent speed remained virtually unchanged.
The searing soul pain and hopeless predicant ground against Jie Ming’s nerves like twin files.
Leaning against the priest’s cold arm, his vision blurred once more. His consciousness leaked away like air from a punctured ball.
He had already won the previous battle… was he really going to die here?
Just as his awareness was about to sink back into darkness…
The distress rune on his wrist—which had long since transmitted the rescue signal—suddenly pulsed with a clear, rhythmic response.
That was… the specific reply frequency of Noren Workshop’s internal communication key!
It ant friendly reinforcents had received the signal and were approaching!
Almost simultaneously, the relentless barrage outside stuttered for an instant.
The malicious taunts cut off abruptly, replaced by uncertain commotion and short, urgent warnings:
“Watch the east side! High-energy reaction!”
“It’s Noren Workshop people! How did they get here so fast?!”
“No… that’s… sixth-ring! Two of them!”
“Retreat! Fall back toward Lord Griffin—now!”
The suffocating pressure of attacks overhead suddenly lifted.
With his last ounce of strength, Jie Ming forced his stiff neck to turn. Through the gaps between the priests’ bodies, he looked toward the source of the energy fluctuations.
In the distant sky, the gray-black dust was brutally torn apart. Two figures radiating overwhelming sixth-ring pressure burst into view first.
Behind them followed a small, elite squad of fifth-ring wizards—swift, disciplined, formation tight.
One of those figures was utterly familiar to Jie Ming.
Silver-gray hair whipped wildly in the energy turbulence. The doll-like refined features bore none of their usual elegance or playfulness—only icy coldness and murderous intent.
She held no staff. rely clenching her fist caused the surrounding space to ripple with distortions steeped in “pain.”
Viola.
His senior sister—the sixth-ring wizard who delighted in others’ suffering yet had never failed him in a critical mont.
The instant he saw her figure, the final taut string supporting him snapped completely.
His tense will relaxed. Boundless darkness surged upward like warm tidewater, swallowing all sensation once more.
In the final mont before losing consciousness entirely, one hazy thought flickered through Jie Ming’s mind:
“Senior Sister… well done…”
His head lolled weakly to the side as he sank into deeper unconsciousness.
Outside, the enemy wizards—upon Viola and the others’ appearance—scattered like startled fish, retreating in panic.
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