The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

Sharla was brimming with confidence. She firmly believed that with her strength a full realm above those of the Islamic Prophet's guardians, she wouldn't be intimidated by the overwhelming numbers. After all, she stood at the pinnacle of martial arts; how could an ordinary opponent easily challenge her?

However, reality dealt Sharla a heavy blow. She hadn't anticipated that the strength of a master at this level lay not only in their own immense strength, but also in the intricate array of formations and the precious artifacts bestowed upon them by the prophet. Even worse, the prophet, thousands of miles away, had actually, at this very moment, successfully broken through the shackles of the Celestial Realm's Great Perfection and entered the legendary realm of earthly immortals!

Because the prophet had reached such a transcendental state, the power of the treasures and instruments he had passed down was greatly increased. When these Dharma protectors worked together to activate the prophet's treasures and operate the mysterious formation, they were able to leverage the terrifying power of the land's immortal realm to suppress Sharla.

In comparison, Sharla looked incredibly miserable. You have to remember, she was currently under the pressure of a formation from a master a realm higher than hers. While her attackers displayed strength at the Celestial Realm, her own strength plummeted to the Great Perfection of the Profound Realm due to the formation's influence. This situation was even more devastating than the suppression Yu Shanshan had experienced at her own level!

Back then, Sharla, a peerless master who had reached the Great Perfection of the Celestial Realm, possessed devastating power with every gesture. But now, faced with such a predicament, even her omnipotent powers were difficult to unleash. It was truly a pity! Just like Yu Shanshan before, suppressed by this group of religious masters' formations, her realm was instantly suppressed, and she was aggrieved to the Great Perfection of the Profound Realm. Then, these Celestial Realm masters began to mercilessly abuse Sharla!

Sharla's face was filled with shock and despair, and her once resolute eyes had dimmed. Her body was tightly bound by the formations created by the guardians, unable to move, as if pressed down by a heavy mountain, leaving her no room for resistance.

Countless weapons rained down upon her, each one flashing with a cold light and carrying a deadly threat. These weapons whistled through the air, emitting a sharp, chilling sound. Sharla tried to resist with her own strength, but her efforts were in vain. Her body was only at the Great Perfection of the Mysterious Realm. Against the attacks of countless Celestial Realm masters, she was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. The enemy's swords mercilessly pierced through her defenses and stabbed directly into her body.

The sword mercilessly slashed through her body, leaving deep scars. Blood gushed out from the wounds like a fountain, splattering on the surrounding ground, forming a scarlet mist. The blood was like blooming flowers, bright and dazzling, forming a sharp contrast with the surrounding darkness.

Sharla's screams resounded throughout the space, a cry of indescribable pain and despair. Her voice was sharp and shrill, as if it could tear through the endless darkness. Each scream was like a sharp sword, deeply piercing the people's eardrums and making them shudder.

Her body trembled violently under the assault of the weapon, as if it would shatter at any moment. With each tremor, more blood gushed out, staining her leather armor and the surrounding ground red. Her face was contorted in agony, her eyes wide open, tears streaming from the corners.

Sharla's screams, like the wail of a night owl, echoed throughout the room, each one like the agonizing struggle of a torn soul. The sound grew louder and louder, more shrill, as if unleashing all the pain and fear within her. Her voice lingered in the air, lingering for a long time, like an invisible force, assaulting everyone's eardrums, making it impossible to escape.

As the weapons continued to attack, Sharla's body suffered horrific damage. Her skin seemed to be torn into countless pieces, and blood flowed like a fountain, intertwining with shattered muscles and broken bones, forming a bloody and horrifying scene. Her body was riddled with holes, a bloody mess, as if it had been gnawed by countless demons.

The bones, gleaming pale against the backdrop of blood, seemed to speak of the pain and torture she endured. Their sudden exposure to the air, a stark contrast to the surrounding flesh, made one shudder. Each bone seemed to speak of her former strength and unyielding spirit, yet now she could only silently endure this endless agony.

Her eyes were filled with anger and resentment, an accusation of fate's injustice. Gathering her last ounce of strength, she let out a cry that seemed to come from the depths of hell, her voice filled with determination. Every note seemed soaked in pain, carrying an endless sorrow, like a mournful elegy that lingered in the air for a long time.

On the battlefield, shrouded in darkness, a howling wind blew up dust and sand, threatening to bury everything. Sharla was in the midst of it, like a delicate flower swaying in a storm.

The enemies, transformed by the formation, surged forward like a tide, dense and endless. Sharla's sword had long since bent, blood flowing down its blade, and it was impossible to tell whether it was the enemy's or her own. Her red leather armor was tattered, and the blood from her multiple wounds stained it even more crimson.

Sharla's screams, like the weeping of a nightingale, echoed in the air. They seemed to emanate from the depths of her shattered soul, filled with endless pain and despair. Each cry was like a sharp dagger, piercing one's heart, leaving one trembling.

Her eyes were filled with anger and resentment, a accusation of fate's injustice. She had come to defend the justice she held in her heart, but the cruel reality before her had left her in despair. Facing the wolf-like foe, Sharla never flinched.

Sharla swung her sword again and again, exhausting all her strength with each strike. But the enemies were too numerous, and she gradually felt exhausted, her legs feeling heavy as if they were filled with lead.

Suddenly, an enemy, seizing the opportunity, attacked from behind, thrusting a sharp spear straight at Sharla. Sharla sensed the danger, but was powerless to dodge. The spear pierced her body, and in that moment, time seemed to freeze.

She exhausted her last bit of strength and let out a cry that seemed to come from the depths of hell, her voice filled with determination. Every note seemed soaked in pain, carrying endless sorrow, like a tragic elegy that lingered in the air for a long time.

As the world gradually blurred, Sharla's eyes reflected the beautiful scenery of her hometown, the peaceful village, the kind family members, and the warm smiles. She knew she could never go back, but she had no regrets.

The screams and shouts echoing in the air are a constant reminder to people that freedom and peace are hard-won.

Sharla's throat was hoarse, but she still cried out desperately. Her voice was like a flag in the wind, swaying in the storm of pain, but she refused to fall. Her body trembled from the excessive effort, as if it would collapse at any moment.

Finally, at this thrilling moment, the final blow, the one that would decide her life or death, arrived! Two master priests, standing at the pinnacle of the Celestial Realm, simultaneously thrust their gleaming swords into Sharla's fragile throat with the force of thunder.

Sharla's eyes widened, filled with astonishment, resignation, and despair. Her beautiful gaze stared straight ahead, as if trying to peer through the void to see the truth hidden behind fate. However, it was already too late.

Instantly, a stream of crimson blood gushed out of her throat, surging like a flood. The blood splattered on her bright red leather bra, instantly staining it like a bunch of sad, beautiful blood-red flowers; it also mercilessly splashed on her cheek, once pure and flawless, now shrouded in the shadow of death, outlining heartbreaking bloodstains.

As the flame of life gradually died, Sharla's body lost its support and, like a puppet with its strings cut, collapsed to the ground, heavy and powerless. The wound in her throat was like a rift in the valley, from which blood continuously flowed, gathering into a rushing red river. The blood cascaded down like a red waterfall, spreading rapidly across the ground, soon staining a large area red, forming a shocking pool of blood.

The pool of blood seemed like a bottomless vortex, emitting the breath of death, greedily devouring Sharla's body. It was like the devil's mouth from hell, baring its fangs and claws, trying to drag her soul into the endless dark abyss.

Amidst the shocking pool of blood, Sharla appeared like a withered flower, incredibly fragile and helpless. Her delicate body trembled slightly, each tremor a final struggle against death. However, this force was so insignificant in comparison, completely powerless to change the trajectory of her fate.

Her lips, once pale as paper, trembled slightly, opening with difficulty a crack, as if she were struggling to utter those crucial words. However, at this critical moment, a torrent of blood gushed out of her mouth like a flood, instantly drowning out all the words that were about to come out. The scarlet blood formed a shocking column in the air, like a blooming flower of death, exuding a suffocating bloody odor.

Then, with the last of her strength, she exhaled her last breath. Her once-bewitching lips now parted, revealing a tender little tongue, as if still uttering her final words. The tongue trembled slightly, as if striving to express the resentment and regret deep within her heart.

As time passed, Sharla's eyes gradually dimmed. Once lively and full of life, they became hollow and lifeless, as if devoid of the light of life. Her gaze betrayed a deep despair and helplessness, as if bidding a final farewell to the world. The breath of life slowly drained from her, and her body gradually grew cold and stiff.

Her lips trembled twice more, those subtle movements a final struggle from deep within her heart. She seemed to want to say something, but she couldn't utter a single sound. Perhaps her heart still held countless words and emotions, but they would be buried forever with her departure.

At that moment, a sickening, overpowering stench of blood permeated her body. Like an invisible net, the odor enveloped everything around her, nearly suffocating her. The bloody odor was intense and pungent, a symbol of death, impossible to escape. Simultaneously, a stream of warm liquid slowly flowed from between her legs, forming a clear, thin stream. This stream flowed down her body, relentlessly soaking the earth beneath her. The moist soil and crimson blood mingled, creating a strange and tragic scene.

Her face was as pale as paper, her lips had lost their color, her once bright eyes had become dull and lifeless, and her breath had completely disappeared.

In this bloody scene, Sharla's figure appears so lonely and poignant. Her departure seems to be the end of a tragedy, which makes people feel heartbroken.

In this silent moment, time seemed to freeze. Everything around them became blurry, with only Sharla's motionless naked body and the ripples in the pool of blood reminding people of the tragic battle that once took place here.

The masters of the Guardian Corps watched all this with indifference, their faces devoid of any pity or guilt. Their eyes were filled with indifference and callousness, as if Sharla were merely an insignificant being. They gloated over their victory, seemingly forgetting that Sharla was a living, emotional being. In their eyes, there was only power and profit, no humanity or kindness.

The scene of Sharla's sacrifice is truly breathtaking and horrific. Her unyielding will and resolute spirit inspire deep admiration. Who could have imagined that this peerless master, having reached the celestial realm of great perfection, would ultimately perish in such a tragic and tragic manner? It truly brings a sigh of regret.

A peak-level expert like Sharla should be invincible and unstoppable. However, the power of religious repression was incredibly powerful. Even at her level, a bizarre suppression technique could force her down from the Great Perfection of the Heavenly Realm to the Great Perfection of the Mysterious Realm, instantly reducing her to a mere ordinary expert, completely unable to compete with the Heavenly Realm's might. Faced with such a drastic disparity, Sharla, though unwilling to accept it, could do nothing but watch herself descend into the abyss of death.

Even more tragically, Sharla, a dignified female general who had attained the Great Perfection of the Celestial Realm, was not defeated in a fair duel, but rather framed by the elaborate schemes of those sinister Arab religious priests, ultimately leading to her death. Her fate was truly tragic, making her one of the most tragic female generals of the Great Perfection of the Celestial Realm in history. People could not help but feel deep regret and injustice for her, while also overflowing with anger and condemnation towards the abominable religious forces. Whenever the breeze blew across the battlefield, one could hear the lingering echoes of that mournful elegy, commemorating Sharla's bravery and heroism.