The White Tiger sensed something was off about the thick smoke. In this critical moment, his fading rationality began to recover slightly.
He realized that the “participant” capable of releasing such dense white smoke must have kept their own sanity at an extremely low level—almost as low as his.
The “gale force” he had unleashed with full strength couldn’t completely disperse the smoke.
So he steadied himself, then swung both arms together, releasing an even stronger “gale force.” But the next instant, a massive stone wall materialized in front of him within half a second, blocking most of the wind’s power.
Old Sun, standing not far away with bloodshot eyes and a slightly vacant gaze, couldn’t recall anyone in the “Extremists” whose “echo” was called “Dense Smoke.” But judging by the source of the smoke, it was likely the sabotage team Yan Zhichun had previously dispatched.
The other “Extremists” paused briefly at the sight before continuing to unleash their own “echoes” to disrupt the White Tiger’s movements.
Since communication devices like walkie-talkies were nearly impossible to maintain in the “Land of Finality,” the battlefield resembled a chaotic ancient war zone. Without messengers, sudden developments had to be inferred rather than relayed.
After all, Zhou Mo was just one person, and her “Voice Transmission” was mostly one-on-one, making it difficult to quickly disseminate information across the battlefield. Survival now required thinking several steps ahead.
They could only gamble that this massive white smoke was a smokescreen before the destruction of the Great Bell—meaning the sabotage team had already reached it and only needed to strike the final blow.
Seeing this, the White Tiger grew anxious. He pointed at the center of the massive stone wall, which trembled slightly before exploding violently into countless fragments. These fragments scattered before detonating again.
Screams erupted across the plaza. The widespread explosions not only injured the “Extremists” but also tore through the flesh of many “reinforcements” who had rushed to aid.
The shockwaves acted like a blender, instantly sweeping the thick fog from the plaza’s center across the entire area.
Moments later, the white mist merged with the black smoke from the White Tiger’s explosions, plunging everyone into a hazy shroud. Coughs, panicked shouts, and pained groans filled the air.
Many “reinforcements” also realized the white smoke provided perfect cover. Without fixed allies, anyone spotted in the thick fog was fair game. So, in the blinding haze, wounded figures clashed once more.
After the massive stone wall exploded, the White Tiger prepared to unleash another “gale force,” only to hear the whistling of countless stones hurtling toward him from all directions. He had to use “Explosive Ignition” to block them, but each detonation only thickened the black smoke.
Once he cleared the barrage, he spotted several shadowy figures emerging from the smoke. He frowned—until now, these “participants” had only attacked him from afar with their “echoes.” Now, under the cover of smoke, they dared to charge at him directly?
He focused on the shadows in the smoke and suddenly saw a bizarrely shaped “participant” lunging at him.
The attack was chaotic, even clumsy, but the White Tiger immediately thrust his hand through the assailant’s chest.
As his palm pierced the body, the White Tiger lifted his aged, murky eyes and realized the “participant’s” skull was partially blown away—they should have been dead long ago.
Frowning, he pondered the situation when more figures began converging around him.
“Old Deng…” Old Sun muttered dazedly from a distance. “Why didn’t you use your ‘puppets’ earlier? So many had to die first…”
The short, stout Old Deng shot him an exasperated glance. “Are you stupid? How can I use ‘puppets’ if no one’s dead?”
“Oh… right…”
Old Deng raised both hands, his fingers moving fluidly in the air—each digit seemingly independent, capable of twitching on its own.
Whenever a body fell, he flicked a single finger, “reviving” another corpse. Soon, ten puppets moved in unison, charging at the White Tiger.
The silhouettes of the corpses in the smoke amused Old Deng.
“See that, Old Sun? It’s even more like shadow puppetry now. I’m controlling them better than ever.”
“Shadow puppets…?” Old Sun stared blankly at the smoky silhouettes. “Nonsense… How? The warriors in shadow plays… wear armor…”
As he spoke, the edges of the corpses’ shadows sharpened, as if strange armor had materialized around them, making their silhouettes appear majestic.
Old Sun’s gaze grew even more vacant.
“Yes, this is good—puppet warriors clad in armor!” Old Deng chuckled. “I’ve heard the ‘Celestials’ also have a ‘puppet’ user… I wonder how many bodies they can control at once. A hundred, maybe?”
Old Sun shook his head and let out a dull chuckle. “Maybe the ‘Celestial’ can only control one. After all, they’re not as skilled as you with shadow puppets. Their powers don’t even come from themselves, so they’re weak.”
“Quit talking nonsense,” Old Deng retorted.
The White Tiger found himself surrounded by the puppets. Though unharmed, he began losing his bearings in the close-quarters chaos.
With identical smoke everywhere, he couldn’t determine which direction to unleash his “gale force.” Every time he prepared to strike, another puppet lunged at him. At such close range, “Explosive Ignition” was impractical, so he settled for cleanly snapping their limbs to immobilize them.
But these “puppets” weren’t just impervious to pain—they were clad in thick stone armor, forcing the White Tiger to exert more strength.
“Incredible ‘puppets’…” he muttered. “To control so many at once…”
Soon, he noticed these puppets differed from his expectations. Even with broken limbs, they’d abruptly stand back up, as if pulled by invisible strings.
The White Tiger glanced skyward—nothing was there. Whatever lifted these puppets wasn’t “strings” but “conviction.”
For now, dispersing the smoke wasn’t urgent. The haze had disoriented everyone, and the ensuing infighting spared him further trouble.
Yet he soon sensed something amiss. Less than ten meters away, a group seemed to be arguing.
They were dangerously close to both him and the Great Bell. It wasn’t just the “Dense Smoke” user—multiple factions with differing goals had gathered there.
“When did this happen…?”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage