The bodyguard, wholly engrossed in fending off Hutou’s loyalists, remained oblivious to the impending strike from behind.
By the time he reacted, a crossbow bolt had already pierced his thigh.
Even with his Qi shield activated in battle, the bolt had found its mark.
From a distance, Adair pursed his lips. He had aimed for the bodyguard’s head, but the actual trajectory of the bolt had deviated far too much.
It was, after all, a novice’s attempt. Still, it would suffice, for the arrow was laced with a potent poison.
Upon seeing his shot connect, Adair immediately dropped back into the trench, ensuring he remained hidden from enemy sight.
The wounded bodyguard, enduring immense pain, glared furiously in the direction from which the arrow had come.
Yet, he saw nothing but emptiness.
This was no time for distraction; enemies still pressed in from the front. Just as he prepared to refocus, he discovered that moving his injured left leg had become incredibly difficult.
He sharply glanced down at his leg, tearing through the fabric covering it. Only then did he see that the skin around the arrow wound had turned a mottled purplish-black, and this discoloration was spreading like spilled ink to the unblemished areas of his flesh.
“Despicable scoundrel!”
The injured bodyguard roared skyward, understanding precisely what such a potent poison meant on a perilous battlefield.
Observing the enemies closing in, he knew his chances of survival were gone. Thus, he bellowed to his comrades nearby, “Beware! Someone is attacking with poisoned arrows. You, go support the Baron! I won’t survive, but I won’t let them live either!”
His partner’s face also contorted in a grimace. They had been working together since their days as mercenaries, and their bond had deepened significantly after joining Baron Quentin. It was an unexpected, heartbreaking parting on this insignificant battlefield.
However, his colleague was beyond saving; he understood that much. It was impossible to protect a burden on the battlefield.
So, Bodyguard Number Two (forgive me, I’m too lazy to name two dying extras) nodded heavily and declared, “As long as I live, I will avenge you.”
With that, he turned to assist Baron Quentin. If Quentin perished in this battle, everything would truly be lost.
Bodyguard Number One, already injured, watched Hutou’s loyalists surround him, a ferocious grin spreading across his face.
“Heh heh, I never thought I’d be careless enough to fall for such a shoddy sneak attack on the battlefield. It seems a life of debauchery truly makes one lax. But even if I die, you won’t have an easy time of it.”
As he spoke, Bodyguard Number One channeled all the Qi in his body, charging directly into the group of loyalists. Simultaneously, the rapid circulation of blood caused by his Qi mobilization accelerated the poison’s spread throughout his entire body.
Bodyguard Number One’s body suddenly swelled, and in a short while, he was nearly as corpulent as someone of Quentin’s stature, with shrunken limbs and a grotesque appearance.
Yet, Hutou’s loyalists found nothing amusing about it. Their faces were etched with panic and dread as they scrambled to flee in all directions.
They knew precisely what this transformation signified.
Self-detonation. This was an innate technique for those who had cultivated Inner Qi to a certain degree. The principle was simple: allow the Qi within one’s body to run wild.
The total amount of Qi within the human body is greater than what can be externally utilized. It’s like a water tank fitted with a faucet; no matter how large the tank, only a small stream emerges from the tap each time.
The human body is like that tank, and the amount of Qi that can be called upon at any given moment is like the water flowing from the faucet. The stronger the Inner Qi cultivation, the more robust the tank, the greater its capacity, and the increased flow from the faucet.
However, there is a method to unleash all the water from this tank at once, instantly erupting with terrifying destructive power: self-detonation.
A self-detonator can intentionally disrupt the Qi within their body, causing it to shatter its storage vessel and unleash the body’s stored Qi in a single, catastrophic burst.
Of course, performing this technique is tantamount to suicide, as the first step of self-detonation is the complete abandonment of the physical body.
The Qi blast from Bodyguard Number One’s self-detonation instantly swept over Hutou’s loyalists who hadn’t managed to escape in time. In an instant, Hutou’s loyalists were either dead or maimed, virtually all of them losing their combat effectiveness.
Bodyguard Number Two, having retreated earlier, was unaffected and began to flank Hutou alongside Quentin.
Hutou, already struggling against Quentin alone, was steadily pushed back under the two-pronged assault.
Adair, lurking nearby, felt a wave of sorrow upon seeing his ‘brother’ subjected to such abuse. He immediately provided assistance to Hutou with his poison-tipped arrows.
However, as a self-taught archer, his skills were lacking. While he could aim for the head and hit the leg during a sneak attack, with his target now prepared, he couldn’t even graze them.
As Adair pondered how to be a truly effective nuisance, Hutou, sensing the dire situation, let out a furious roar. His dark, brawny physique suddenly glowed fiery red, as if scorched by flames.
This was the Demonic Race’s racial battle technique: Berserk Transformation.
When a Demonic Race member’s body sustains a certain degree of injury, it awakens their latent potential, manifesting as their entire body turning crimson. It is as if the water in a reservoir has come to a boil, and even the water flowing out is scalding. At this point, the power of their Qi is on an entirely different level, instantly boosting their combat prowess by two or three tiers.
Adair observed that Hutou’s injuries were severe enough to have activated this ability much earlier, yet he had deliberately held back. While it was true that the more severe the injury, the better the Berserk Transformation’s effect, his primary reason was to catch his opponents by surprise.
Sure enough, Bodyguard Number Two failed to react appropriately to Hutou’s sudden outburst. He was eviscerated by a swift, diagonal slash from Hutou, his internal organs spilling out immediately.
Bodyguard Number Two collapsed, gravely wounded, incessantly spitting fresh blood. It was clear he wouldn’t survive.
“Impressive!”
Adair casually dispatched a nearby soldier from an unknown faction as he witnessed this commendable display.
Despite Hutou’s brawny appearance, his mind was sharp, brave yet cunning. If not for his slight lack of self-control regarding his desires, he would truly be an extraordinary individual.
“However,” Adair deftly loaded a poisoned arrow into his heavy crossbow, aiming it precisely at the berserk Hutou, “what I want isn’t a one-sided annihilation. It would be best if you both perished together. Taste this arrow!”
This time, Adair’s attack found its mark. Hutou stared at the small wound on his wrist where the arrow had struck, utterly stunned.
He had always assumed the person firing arrows from the shadows was one of his own! He had even planned to promote them to a position of importance if they returned alive. Yet, why had this person shot him? Could it be friendly fire?
Hutou cursed inwardly: ‘What a true betrayal!’
He also noticed the poison spreading from the wound and quickly used his Qi to constrict the blood vessels there. The consequence was that Hutou could now only wield his massive spiked club with one hand against Quentin.
His strength was likely reduced by nearly a third, effectively negating the benefits of his Berserk Transformation.
Adair was overjoyed to see the two combatants suddenly locked in an evenly matched struggle again. He wished he had some melon to snack on; he would have devoured two huge slices.
Nonetheless, even with the enhancement buff nullified, Hutou’s combat prowess still surpassed that of the inexperienced Quentin. Soon, Quentin was drenched in blood, struggling to lift his axe.
Yet, the madness in his eyes intensified, his gaze fixed on Hutou with profound hatred.
Then, a terrifying scene unfolded, striking fear into everyone on the battlefield.
Quentin casually tossed aside his axe and let out a guttural roar, tearing at his own mouth with desperate hands. A vivid red裂口 (a gaping, vertical fissure) spread from his mouth downward, engulfing his entire body.
Even then, Quentin showed no sign of stopping, continuing until he had torn himself in half.
What followed was even more horrifying. Adair’s eyes widened in disbelief, realizing that Quentin had seemingly ripped open only his outermost layer of skin, like an animal shedding its shell. What emerged was a crimson blood-orb, oozing with a repulsive, viscous liquid that corroded the ground’s rocks upon contact.
Hutou was utterly dumbfounded by this fantastical sight, but his instincts screamed that this was nothing good.
Hutou roared, swinging his spiked club at the fleshy orb, only to be repelled as if striking a spring.
Simultaneously, the orb seemed to react to the stimulus, beginning to swell and stretch.
Adair then realized that the fleshy orb before him was actually a colossal worm, compressed and coiled within itself.
The gigantic worm, now fully revealed, stood about ten meters tall. Its entire body lacked any limbs that could be called legs, and it possessed no discernible normal organs.
At its head was only a grotesque maw, bristling with sharp, pointed fangs, like a blender. There was no doubt about the gruesome fate of anything consumed by it.
This worm, which had emerged from Quentin’s body, emitted an intensely lethal stench.
Heaven knew how such a creature was crammed inside a fat man. Adair felt like he was going to vomit everything he’d eaten. He quickly covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and took cover.
Hutou stared blankly at the utterly bizarre scene before him. After a long moment, he snapped out of his daze, only to be sent flying by the massive worm. The powerful impact with the ground caused Hutou to cough up a large mouthful of blood, and most of his bones were broken, leaving him completely incapacitated.
For this terrifying worm, these were merely the beginnings of a slaughter. It ignored the barely clinging-to-life Hutou and instead began to butcher the soldiers and bandits on the battlefield.
Its attack methods were diverse. Despite its肥胖 (corpulent) body, its jumping ability was astonishing; it would compress itself and then launch, indiscriminately crushing distant fleeing individuals. For those hiding in corners, its maw would spew corrosive acid mist, reducing them to a puddle of pus, or it would simply churn people with its mouthparts and devour them. The most startling method Adair witnessed was the fat worm coiling itself up and traversing the battlefield like a steamroller.
Nor were the bandits and soldiers without their attackers, but swords, blades, and crossbow bolts merely bounced off its tough hide. It seemed this fat worm was invincible.