Chapter 295: Bloody Battle |
"!!!"
The door was kicked open with a heavy thud.
Cao Biansheng raised his shield and pushed forward, the sound of wind whistling past his ears.
A long spear grazed past his cheek.
He lowered his head and thrust out with his own spear.
A muffled grunt came from the opposite side.
He continued pushing forward, the front of his shield clanging and clattering.
After taking several steps forward, he gave a powerful shove!
As the two men opposite fell to the ground, Cao Biansheng seized the chance to thrust his spear, piercing the neck of one of the fallen.
Hearing the wind, every hair on Cao Biansheng's body stood on end.
A blurry afterimage shot out from behind him.
"!"
The person who had just jumped out was still mid-air when they were slammed back.
They let out a miserable cry.
"Be careful." Qin Ziwen retracted his long spear. In the hallway, the spear wasn't very convenient to use, but he was used to it. Thrusting forward was still no problem.
Cao Biansheng breathed a sigh of relief, took out a water flask from his waist, took a large gulp, and after recovering some stamina, continued pushing forward.
"What floor are we on now?" Qin Ziwen looked outside. Looking down from here, the base of the Red Cauldron Tower was already a considerable distance below them.
"Nineteenth floor." Qin Ziwu wiped the sweat from his face.
At the front of the team, one of the three Turbid Clan fish-men had already fallen.
They had triggered a trap on the seventh floor, were pushed down the stairs, fell from the seventh story, and were motionless on the spot.
"Everyone, drink water, recover your stamina!" Qin Ziwu shouted.
In the hallway, everyone took out the water bottles they carried, drinking from the Healing Spring.
As the saying goes, the first drumbeat raises spirit, the second weakens it, the third exhausts it.
Normally, having fought their way up to this point, everyone should have been utterly exhausted.
But with the aid of the Healing Spring, the icy spring water, once drunk, transformed into sweet dew, nourishing their depleted stamina.
It could maintain their energy and even lightly heal external wounds. As long as they didn't suffer serious injuries, they could maintain their fighting strength.
At the front of the team, the two Turbid Clan fish-men draped in thick wooden planks were covered in wounds. The planks were chopped and curled, full of holes everywhere. Their thick hides were chopped to a ragged mess, curled wounds oozing thick, ink-green blood.
From the rear of the team, someone brought two large buckets of water and handed them to the Turbid Clan fish-men.
The Turbid Clan fish-men picked up the buckets, gulping down the water in large mouthfuls.
Their breathing visibly calmed, and the wounds on their bodies' surfaces slowly began to heal.
Behind the door on the twentieth floor, the Blood Script members holding the line heard the order to rest from downstairs and subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.
"Should we sneak over while they're resting?" someone whispered, asking.
Several people nearby were somewhat tempted.
Another person nearby lowered his voice, "We don't have enough people, do we?"
"What does not having enough people matter? Do you know Zhang Liao? Eight hundred fought a hundred thousand. That Chen Qingzhi, seven thousand fought three hundred thousand. Xie Xuan, the Battle of Feishui, eighty thousand fought eight hundred thousand. If you win, you have everything."
Several people's eyes shifted.
Thinking of this possibility, many of those present were tempted.
At this moment, they thought of those classic battles from the history books.
It might just be them.
"In a moment, we'll catch them off guard, kill some of their momentum. If we can force them to retreat, think how awesome we'd be."
The group discussed it, then pulled in another bunch of people from behind. After arming themselves, they lay in ambush behind the door.
Counting silently, one, two, three.
They opened the door and rushed out in a swarm.
They had only run a couple of steps when a sharp whistling sound met them head-on.
*Thump, thump.*
One after another, they were directly skewered into a string by hand crossbows.
They died faster than they charged.
They fell one by one on the stairs below, piling up.
Cao Biansheng lowered the hand crossbow in his hand, a cold sneer appearing on his face. How could they not be prepared?
These naive guys, they had also encountered a batch like this when resting on the tenth floor, perfect for accumulating kills for his Slaughterer task.
Cao Biansheng stopped the others, "Leave the rest for me."
After saying this, he charged up with his shield and short knife. Clad in iron armor, his fighting style was fierce. Enemy weapons landing on him were mostly inconsequential as long as they weren't vital spots.
In the hallway, in the blink of an eye, he had chopped down several people.
The remaining members upstairs panicked, hurriedly slamming the large iron door shut.
After recovering their stamina, everyone continued climbing and fighting upwards.
Twentieth floor, twenty-first floor, twenty-second floor...
The stairs seemed endless.
The sounds of killing and shouting rose floor by floor, blood staining the hallways red.
Blood dripped down through the cracks in the stairs, pooling into sticky little puddles below.
A heavy thud sounded from ahead. The other side had set up a triggered trap. A Turbid Clan fish-man couldn't dodge in time, was hit, and nearly fell over the railing.
Several Blood Script members nearby let out ferocious roars, swarming over in a crowd, piling onto the fish-man, adding their weight.
The Turbid Clan fish-man let out a roar, and along with the person on its chest, it fell from the twenty-eighth-floor railing.
In the moment it fell, the fish-man turned its head to look at Qin Ziwu. "Awoo." (Fish, tasty)
"!"
The heavy object landed downstairs. Both sides were seeing red.
Du Yu, wielding twin blades, carved a bloody path through the enemy.
Cao Biansheng followed closely behind, seizing every opportunity, never missing a chance to take a head. With each kill, he counted silently in his heart.
After the team charged up to the thirtieth floor, the prepared Healing Spring began to run low.
Cao Biansheng felt his arms were like they were filled with lead. He had never felt that swinging a blade could be such a difficult thing.
Combat consumed too much stamina and energy.
"Here." A hand reached out from behind him. Qin Ziwen handed him a bottle of water.
Cao Biansheng licked his dry, cracked lips, a flicker of emotion flashing in his eyes.
"Guild Leader, you drink it yourself. I still have some."
"Have some my ass, your bottle is empty. Our supplies have arrived."
As the words fell, from outside a room to the side came the sound of the Crowned Eagle.
A dark shadow spread its giant wings, blocking the moonlight.
In its claws, it carried a large sealed barrel on each side.
Qin Ziwen walked over and took the two large barrels of Healing Spring.
He shouted loudly, "Maintain defense, collect supplies in an orderly fashion."
After delivering the large barrels, the Crowned Eagle flew down, then soon flew back up. This time, it delivered an iron-plated medical kit.
Inside were medical supplies like alcohol, bandages, and painkillers.
After a round of repairs, everyone continued charging and fighting upwards.
Downstairs, Yang Long, responsible for cleaning up the battlefield, was shocked. "Are they all made of iron? Don't they get tired!?"
Erhu rubbed his arm. "Brother Long, we're tired just from moving stuff."
The sounds of killing and shouting came from upstairs again.
Yang Long fell silent for a moment, then gritted his teeth. "Let's go, keep following. Also, all the wounded who retreated from the front earlier must be taken care of properly. Don't let anything go wrong!"
The sounds of killing and shouting spread upwards, floor by floor.
Cao Biansheng swung the shield in his hand, riding on top of a person, smashing down with force. Once, twice, until the head beneath him was smashed like a watermelon. "Ninety."
He raised his head, his face completely covered in blood, his eyelashes glued together by dried blood scabs, his eyes completely bloodshot.
"Two more, just two more!"
"We've already fought our way to the top floor." Qin Ziwu gasped for breath, holding his blade, walking over from the end of the corridor.