Chapter 78: The Last Winner?

Lu Xuanming could discern the direction of an attack by the airflow generated when a blade cut through the air, and use his protective iron armor to defend preemptively... but he couldn't predict the trajectory of a bullet.

So, he was shot.

A bullet pierced his thigh, causing Lu Xuanming to completely lose his balance. A powerful force suddenly struck his chest, sending him flying with a kick!

Dust billowed as Lu Xuanming, disoriented, fell heavily to the ground.

He reflexively sat up from the ground, but by then he had completely lost his bearings, utterly unaware of where the enemy would attack from. Blood gushed from the bullet wound in his thigh, and his face was grim.

Was this the oppressive force of the Third Tier? Even the Way of the Thief God, though not adept at combat, was still beyond what a First Tier individual could handle.

On the desolate plain, Number 8 walked towards Lu Xuanming, a blade in one hand and a gun in the other, his face expressionless.

He silently raised his gun, aiming at the center of Lu Xuanming's forehead, who was warily scanning the darkness. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a voice came from the side.

"Is this the last one left?"

Number 8 flinched, turning to see Jian Changsheng, covered in blood, staring intently at him from nearby. His face, marked by a gruesome scar, was filled with excitement and longing.

"Killing this one... that should count as a great service, shouldn't it?"

He let out a loud laugh, then shot forward like a blood-red arrow, rushing rapidly towards them!

Another one on the Way of the Soldier God?

Number 8's brow furrowed slightly.

Jian Changsheng's speed was incredibly swift, too fast for even Lu Xuanming in his Iron Armor to track. In a mere blur, he covered dozens of meters and appeared before Number 8, who, startled, immediately fired several shots at him!

Bullets struck Jian Changsheng's body repeatedly, yet his speed surged even more. A blood-stained fist whistled as it slammed towards Number 8!

"Steal 'Light'!"

Number 8 activated his skill again without hesitation.

Suddenly deprived of his sight, Jian Changsheng instantly flitted around like a headless fly, just like Lu Xuanming. As Number 8 let out a slight breath of relief, a rock-solid straight punch landed squarely on his chest!

The punch instantly broke two of Number 8's ribs. He violently spat out a mouthful of blood and collapsed to the ground.

Lu Xuanming, eyes closed, had somehow found his way to Number 8's side. A dark fist was clenched mid-air, coldly facing Number 8's direction.

"Your voice betrayed your position," he stated calmly.

Number 8 painfully climbed to his feet, a sinister glint in his eyes. Just then, a sheet of Xuan paper quietly drifted over him.

"Freeze."

The characters, temporarily outlined in blood, gradually faded and vanished. Pu Wen, hands empty, stood nearby, forming a hand seal with one hand.

Number 8's figure instantly froze in place, like a statue.

Two Enforcers, deprived of sight, and a Fire Usurper, immobilized, entered a strange state of quiet on the battlefield...

Several seconds later, Lu Xuanming was the first to recover from his blindness, charging at Number 8 like a cannonball. Half a second later, Number 8 also broke free of the immobilization, used one hand to again steal Lu Xuanming's vision, and raised his gun with the other, firing three shots in quick succession!

"Damn it! Is his theft ability unlimited?" Lu Xuanming cursed inwardly.

Three bullets whistled into Lu Xuanming's body; two were deflected by his randomly activated Iron Armor, but the last one pierced his shoulder, causing his formerly clenched fist to drop instantly.

Number 8 tried to fire again, but found the magazine empty. Helpless, he discarded it. At the same time, a sharp pain shot through his lower abdomen!

Jian Changsheng's punch directly shattered Number 8's kidney. He then followed through, grabbing Number 8's waist with both hands and slamming him violently to the ground!

"Now, let's see how you'll run!" he sneered.

Jian Changsheng's vision had been stolen later and hadn't recovered yet, but he tracked Number 8 by the gunshots, delivered a punch that crushed his internal organs, and then straddled him.

Ultimately, Number 8 was outnumbered. Although he had severely wounded Lu Xuanming, Jian Changsheng had managed to get behind him. Number 8 glared intently at Jian Changsheng, whose eyes were still tightly closed. Gritting his teeth, he instantly stole Jian Changsheng's dagger into his own hand and furiously stabbed at his body!

Jian Changsheng completely ignored Number 8's attacks, laughing loudly as his blood-stained fists relentlessly pounded Number 8, clearly intending to trade blows.

At first, Number 8 managed to stab him a few times, each strike aiming for a vital spot. But after taking several consecutive punches, his consciousness blurred, until finally he lay on the ground like a rag doll, allowing the rain of fists to hammer down on him.

Every punch connected with flesh, every punch broke bone!

Pu Wen, having used all his Xuan paper, stared blankly at the gruesome and bloody scene before him, his brows furrowing involuntarily.

He certainly recognized Jian Changsheng, but he had no idea what the man had gone through to transform from a cowardly, humble lackey into such a reckless brute...

"Enough!" Pu Wen interjected.

Jian Changsheng seemed not to hear him, delivering several more fierce punches, sending flesh and blood flying.

"Enough!!" Pu Wen stepped forward and shouted again.

Only then did Jian Changsheng stop. He glanced at the disfigured Number 8 beneath him, then slowly stood up...

"It's over..." he said. "I killed this Fire Usurper! The credit is mine!"

He looked at Pu Wen, as if declaring a claim.

"No one will take your credit," Pu Wen said, looking around. "By the way, have you seen Yan Xicai?"

"Yes, I saw him. He was killed by a Fire Usurper."

Upon hearing this news, Pu Wen's brows furrowed tightly. He gazed intently into Jian Changsheng's eyes, as if trying to see through him... Jian Changsheng met his stare without fear, his gruesome scarred face betraying no emotion.

Lu Xuanming, nearby, let out a long breath, shakily stood up, and once his vision returned, walked to a nearby hill to look into the distance.

"...They're all dead."

"What?"

"They're all dead," Lu Xuanming repeated, looking at the Ancient Military Tomb strewn with corpses. "Only the three of us survived."

Pu Wen and Jian Changsheng froze, then followed him up the hill. As far as their eyes could see, there was only blood and corpses... Fire Usurpers and Enforcers alike, not a single person remained standing.

In the end, the Enforcers had won this chaotic battle... though it was a brutally costly victory.

Three blood-stained figures stood side by side on the hill, the breeze rustling their garments.

An Asura, a Heavenly Wolf, a Scholar... they were the last victors in this world.

Pu Wen's expression was grim. Although he disliked Yan Xicai, he had, after all, been hired by him. With Yan Xicai's death in the Ancient Military Tomb, the news returning to Aurora City was bound to cause chaos, and Pu Wen himself would very likely be held accountable.

Lu Xuanming, however, showed no particular expression, though his face was ashen, perhaps due to significant blood loss from his bullet wound.

As for Jian Changsheng... he looked at the corpses scattered across the hills and, after a few seconds of silence, began to laugh:

"The last winner... is me."

Clap, clap, clap—

In the dead silence, a crisp applause came from behind.

All three froze simultaneously and turned to look.

A figure draped in a large red theatrical robe had, at some unknown point, settled atop a blood-stained boulder, smiling down at the three of them... His hands, adorned with ruby rings, clapped softly, like an audience member expressing sincere admiration.

"Splendid," he chuckled.

"I seem to be grasping the pleasure of being an 'audience member' now, aren't I?"