Chapter 1100 - 892: Disaster Diverted Eastward (Part 2)

But it was already too late; outside the entrance of the mine tunnel, flames surrounded from all sides, with heavy footsteps and the clash of metal weapons echoing from every fork in the road simultaneously.

Rodrick led several Wizards through the abandoned mine tunnel, charging left and right, narrowly avoiding being trapped at the forks by the tribe warriors several times, yet each time forcefully swinging his hammer to open a bloody path.

He broke through two lines of blockade in succession, with an arrow grazing his shoulder, leaving a shallow groove of blood.

But whenever he tried to break out towards the perimeter of the mining area, he would always be suppressed by the aura of a Level 4 Powerhouse from ahead, forcing him back into the depths of the mine tunnel.

He gritted his teeth and held his Warhammer horizontally in front of him, with a knife-like gaze showing true solemnity for the first time.

This was not merely an ordinary patrol chase, but a premeditated hunt.

The opposition was not only numerous but had blocked every retreat route, evidently knowing beforehand that there were people hiding in the abandoned mine tunnel.

Yet he couldn’t fathom how they were exposed.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the mining area, Duke was silently passing through layers of Rock Walls in an Earth Elemental Form, heading towards the core vein that the tribes genuinely intended to guard.

He cloaked himself in the aura of the World Tree, moving like a silent fish in the depths, passing through the gray-white tailings left after the rich ore pockets were extracted, extending towards the deeper rich veins.

The aura of the Level 4 Clan Leaders above was rapidly moving towards the southwest, and a huge gap in the defensive net of the mining area’s core region was torn open within moments.

Duke paused within the rock layer, pressing his hands against the Rock Wall filled with dark red crystals, his lips slightly curling upward, and began working.

Rodrick suddenly stopped at the end of the third forked path, with flames flickering from the depths of the mine ahead, the heavy footsteps and the clash of metal weapons pressing in simultaneously from both sides of the fork, with the retreat blocked by pursuing forces.

The wizards behind him caught up, panting, with the Warlock assigned to count the ores having half an arrow shaft stuck in his left leg, blood seeping from the wound with each step, trailing discontinuous dark red marks over the gravel ground.

"There’s no way out." Rodrick’s voice was calm, like stating an irrelevant fact.

He switched the Warhammer to his left hand, slowly clenching the fingers of his right hand by his side, as the knuckles emitted faint popping sounds.

A layer of dark red light surged from within him, rapidly spreading along the paths of blood vessels and muscle fibers. The light wasn’t dazzling but carried a pungent, almost substantial, bloody scent.

His skin began to dissolve under the invasion of the light, revealing beneath it continuously writhing dark red muscle tissue, with each muscle fiber vigorously contracting and expanding as if something was tearing his shell from within.

Rodrick’s figure grew by nearly half within breaths, with the bones of his legs emitting dense cracking sounds, transforming from a slender and tough physique into a blurred human form of a flesh giant.

Flesh Form. One of the core inheritance of Bloodthorn Castle, a deep fusion of Combat Element and Flesh Rules within.

Rodrick raised his head, now unrecognizable, with only two burning dark red flames remaining in the eye sockets.

He issued no warcry, merely stamping the short-handled Warhammer onto the ground, where the metal surface of the hammer rapidly rusted and peeled under the corruption of Flesh Rules, except for the hammer head shining as brightly as if freshly pulled from a forge.

The next second, he propelled himself like a cannonball into the pursuing enemies blocking the way ahead.

The hammer head of the short-handled Warhammer precisely penetrated the shield, arm, and chest cavity of the leading tribe warrior, emerging from the back, dragging out a mist of blood mixed with splintered bones and visceral fragments.

The warrior didn’t even have time to scream before the terrifying impact force flung him directly against the Rock Wall of the mine, where he slid down, the edges of the gaping hole in his chest, bigger than a basin, still emitting burnt stench smoke.

Rodrick released the Warhammer with his left hand, clawing into the abdomen of another pursuer with five fingers, with Flesh Rules immediately corroding the target’s interior through his fingers. The warrior’s body ignited as if lit from within, uncontrollably convulsing violently, as dense dark red cracks appeared on the surface of his skin, before exploding.

The shattered flesh in mid-air was autonomously drawn by the energy of Flesh Rules surrounding Rodrick, merging like being summoned into his ever-expanding body, filling those wounds hacked by arrows and swords. The muscle fibers on the edges rapidly healed after absorbing the flesh, leaving no scars.

In the mine tunnel, the pursuers were in disarray.

They had battled in this stretch of the Gobi mining area for generations, having encountered numerous fierce opponents, yet never had they seen such fighting tactics.

A few young sentries in the rear trembled uncontrollably, gripping their mining picks, while the veteran soldiers in the front gritting their teeth, raising their shields, attempting to reorganize a defense line.

Rodrick charged out from the blood mist explosion, clawing into the Rock Wall of the mine with five fingers, forcefully gouging out a piece of granite half as big as a person and hurling it fiercely at the front of the shield wall.

The explosive sound of rock crashing against shields thundered in the narrow mine tunnel, tearing a vast gap in the shield wall.

He followed the stone’s path into the gap, swung the hammer left to smash the veteran with his shield into the Rock Wall, while with his right hand, he speared through a pursuer’s chest, uprooting the still-beating heart along with the ribs.

In mere moments, over a dozen pursuers were lying lifeless on the gravel ground of the narrow mine tunnel.

Rodrick stood amidst the pile of corpses, with dark red viscous blood continuously dripping from the blurred humanoid form, indistinguishable anymore from his own or the enemies’.

Behind him, only two Wizards remained, already pale-faced, with the Warlock with the arrow-hit leg slumping against the Rock Wall, using trembling fingers to activate the Divine Revelation Mark, enveloped by the silver-blue teleportation light, disappearing into the depths of the mine tunnel.

The last tall and slender Witch tightly grasped her short staff, her gaze wavering repeatedly between Rodrick’s back and the tunnel’s end before finally hardening decisions, activating her Divine Revelation Mark, choosing to desert.

Rodrick did not turn back nor obstruct them.

He merely stooped to retrieve the short-handled Warhammer from the ground, covered in shattered flesh and bone fragments, clutching it tightly, then strode towards the darker regions deeper within the mine tunnel.

The teleportation light of the Divine Revelation Marks flickered behind him, soon completely disappearing into the shadows of the mine tunnel.

Rodrick did not want to give up at this point; after all, leaving at the second layer made him quite reluctant.

The sound of horns from the southwestern side of the mining area crescendoed in waves, with the energy fluctuations of the Level 4 Powerhouse continuously resonating like thunder from that direction, illuminating the night sky over the entire Gobi Desert in fluctuating brightness.

Duke stood in the center of the primal ore pocket deep below the main mining area, with both hands pressed against the Rock Walls embedded with dark red crystal, sensing that the Level 4 auras were being increasingly drawn away by Rodrick towards the southwest abandoned mine tunnel direction.

He knew this was the last opportunity, aware the tribal Clan Leaders were not fools; when they realized the commotion in the southwest was merely caused by another group of Level 3 Mages, yet the real ore thieves remain unseen, they would undoubtedly understand they fell for a diversion tactic.

Yet, before then, he had ample time to execute one more big move.

This time, he no longer restrained himself, allowing the Power of Earth Element Rules to fully unfold across the rock layers, resembling an invisible web deployed deep underground, encompassing the core region of the whole main vein within his perception range.

The Philosopher’s Stone crystals embedded within the depths of the gray-white rock layer appeared dense as red specks under his Spiritual Power scan, extending from the shallow mine tunnel to the unmined pr primal ore pocket deep below, denser than the third vein, with higher purity.