Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

----

As it turned out, Barr's choice was absolutely correct.

The disorganized soldiers, like a flock of sheep separated from the main force, were unable to mount a single counterattack despite having guns and ammunition. Seeing the massive horde of Ramoun raiders pouring in through the breach in the fortress, they panicked and tried to flee. Ultimately, they were overtaken and wiped out by the Ramoun raiders led by Wolf and Silverfrost.

Such tactics have been practiced many times before entering actual combat, so they are extremely efficient in execution.

This is precisely why Zhang Renfeng dared to lead four thousand men straight into the enemy territory. He and the northern army employed different tactics. His destructive power alone was far ahead of its time. Therefore, it was best not to have anyone with you when he charged in alone, otherwise you would easily be affected by his formidable destructive force.

Fourteen years later, Zhang Renfeng's strength has made great strides again.

Besides the Nine Yin Manual and the Toad Skill, he also focused on practicing the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill.

Just as his master said, this is a slow and steady process; each day of practice yields only one day's progress. Zhang Renfeng pushed the millstone every day, and he only reached the sixth level, but for him, that was enough.

Now, once he unleashes his true abilities, even Little Wolf and his two biological sons cannot keep up with him on the real battlefield.

Forcibly binding them together would only force Zhang Renfeng to spare time to take care of them. The same goes for ordinary soldiers.

Whenever Zhang Renfeng led a team of Lamon raiders, they invariably employed the tactics employed during the Red Center Gang's era: Zhang Renfeng would charge in alone, shattering the enemy's morale and organization in one fell swoop. Then, the majority would catch up and finish off the remaining forces. At this point, the enemy soldiers were left with no choice but to flee; it was essentially like shooting at a moving target.

Highly efficient and precise.

It's like a wheat harvesting machine.

Chapter 978: The Killing Machine

"Mayor Mans, what's going on? Why did it suddenly become like this, with no one able to come in or out? Does that mean we can't even go back to Morocco City?"

“This violates our basic rights. We are good citizens, and they cannot treat us like prisoners of war or criminals!”

"Yes, they have no right to lock us up here!"

"Isn't this going too far, Mayor! Didn't you assure us that this was just a harmless military visit? The federal government's army is invincible, didn't you say that yourself? So how do you explain this now?"

……

Faced with everyone's questions, Mans didn't know how to answer, fidgeting and giving an extremely awkward smile.

As the mayor of a city in Morocco, he naturally wouldn't miss such a good opportunity to achieve results. Any mayor in any other city would seize this opportunity and make a big splash.

Not to mention, the commander of this army is the eldest son of the Sisley family.

Although Zeke had always wanted to use this war to elevate his family's status and enter the core decision-making level of the federal government, in the eyes of someone like Mayor Mans, simply having connections with a family of a major general was already a remarkable achievement. If this war hadn't happened to be near Morocco, he would never have had the opportunity to meet the eldest son of the Sishui family.

Humanity cannot learn any lessons from history.

In the early stages of the last Civil War, large spectator groups also appeared, like people rushing to a market, wanting to witness a grand historical event unfold before their eyes. As a result, after the Union army was routed, they also collapsed, resulting in countless deaths, injuries, and trampling.

This time, Mans didn't call as many people; he only summoned all the prominent figures in Morocco. Under the guise of "offering condolences," they came to the army's positions.

He didn't ask for much; he simply wanted to be among the first to rush forward and celebrate the army's victory after it triumphed over the enemy. This great victory would undoubtedly make the news, and being included in a major historical event would grant him some political capital.

However, just a few minutes ago, the once orderly position suddenly became chaotic.

Soldiers moved back and forth, shouting for battle. Everyone slung their weapons over their shoulders, moving in unison like worker ants in an anthill receiving orders. The main defensive force of this camp was clearly focused on the eleven fortresses at the front, so much so that the rear positions had no other arrangements besides some temporary firing positions and shelters.

They wanted to leave, but were told that the position was under complete lockdown and that no one could leave.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please listen to me." After much effort, once the crowd's indignation had subsided, Mans seized the opportunity, cleared his throat, and said, "What you are worried about is almost impossible."

"Throughout the history of world wars, examples of smaller forces defeating larger ones are extremely rare. And this is under the premise that both sides are attacking each other on the same battlefield."

"Once they have established defensive positions, the attacking side often needs three to four times more troops to break through the lines. Not to mention, our soldiers far outnumber the rebels; for them to break through from the front is simply a pipe dream. To be honest, I don't really understand what you are worried about."

What Mans said wasn't entirely wrong; at least, this logic holds true on the vast majority of battlefields.

but……

The soldiers at the forefront of the position, standing ready for battle, might not agree.

----

"Boom!!"

"Boom!!"

"Boom!!"

……

The commotion coming from the nearby fortress could only be described as terrifying.

The unknown is the scariest thing.

The soldiers, lacking imagination, couldn't fathom what could have happened inside the fortress to produce such a sound. The commanders, of course, couldn't offer a clear answer either; they themselves didn't know. They could only force them into position using military orders. Although no one spoke, fear spread rapidly like a plague. A slight tremor in their hands caused the metal buttstocks to rub against the contact surfaces, producing a "click-clack" sound that grew louder and louder.

Making the sign of the cross, reciting prayers, legs trembling... fear is laid bare on the battlefield.

From the fortress not far away, the terrifying sound grew louder and closer!

They witnessed firsthand how an impregnable fortress could be breached from within.

Amidst the flying dust, rubble, and bricks, a figure emerged, perfectly embodying the image of the "Demon King" from the story: a towering 2.56 meters tall, with an extremely robust physique, clad in heavy armor that reflected a deathly metallic sheen. In his left hand, he gripped a soldier in each of his other hands; his arms outstretched, he slammed them down to the ground!

"boom-------!"

The weight of several hundred kilograms, when it hit the ground, was like a meteor falling from the sky, causing the ground to shake several times.

Smoke and dust billowed.

Centered on his landing point, cracks spread across the earth like a spider web.

In an instant, the whole world fell silent. This was Zhang Renfeng's first-time killing blow—it was hard for anyone witnessing such a scene for the first time not to be stunned. Many people's fingers were already on the trigger, but they were so shaken that they didn't even have the strength to press it down.

"..."

Zhang Renfeng slowly stood up from his half-squatting position, and apart from the sound of metal plate armor rubbing together, there was no other sound.

The two unfortunate men he had been holding had already died from the violent impact, their bodies practically "falling apart." His hands were now free again, allowing him to pull out the twin halberds fixed to the back of his armor, push aside the dust, and slowly walk out of the smoke.

The heavy armor lived up to its weight; with each step, there was a resounding "thump," as if it were stepping on everyone's hearts, creating an unparalleled sense of oppression.

From this point on, the two main protagonists of this war, the North and the South, finally met in person.

Outdated armor.

Weapons out of date.

Everything about him seemed detached from 1893, as if from another time and space. This strong sense of incongruity, coupled with Zhang Renfeng's silence, instilled a sense of inexplicable fear in even seasoned veterans. They didn't know what would happen next, nor what they were fighting against.

At least so far, Zhang Renfeng's performance is vastly different from the "Southern Army" they have encountered before.

He's not like a human being.

It's more like a gloomy, bizarre, and silent killing machine.

----

"What are you waiting for..." Matthews, the adjutant who had barely escaped from the fortified position, suppressed his fear and roared, "What are you loading in your gun barrels, gummy bears?! Fire! Fire! Fire!!"

As soldiers, even when the enemy is within 200 meters, the order to "fire" still requires a superior officer to give it before it can be carried out, which shows how low morale is.

However, this statement did have some effect, more or less.

The soldiers at the front lines, their fear turning to rage, roared and pulled the triggers!

Chapter 979: Born with Honor, Die with Honor

Guns roared.

Countless bullets rained down, heading straight for Zhang Renfeng.

Beneath his helmet, his expression remained calm, even somewhat indifferent. The slight hunch in his back and the slight bend in his legs, a posture of preparing for battle, were not discernible beneath his plate armor. Therefore, to everyone else, it appeared as if he had merely stood still for a moment, intending to rely on the thickness of his heavy armor to withstand the hail of bullets.

But, at the very last moment, as the bullet whistled through the air and was about to hit him...

His figure disappeared.

……

"Whoosh—!!"

Compared to hard-hitting, physical skills, lightness skill has always been Zhang Renfeng's weakness, and he hasn't made any special effort to compensate for it. If he could defeat his opponent head-on, why bother learning to use grappling techniques?

For some special reasons, Zhang Renfeng has not touched the Wild Goose Skill to this day. Perhaps because of this, the lightness skill he uses also has the flavor of hard skill. There is no dodging and gliding like an immortal. There are only straight jumps. It has nothing to do with body techniques. It is entirely due to his strong physical fitness to dodge all the enemy's attacks. That's all.

Dissipate energy.

The body, temporarily confined within the armor, lost all its strength, becoming as soft and boneless as it merged into the armor.

Then, with each breath, concentrate all the dissipated energy onto a single point.

Toes.

The moment he started moving, Zhang Renfeng shattered the ground beneath his feet once more, and then began his light-footed skill, a unique and mesmerizing footwork—leaping left and right.

Jumping from right to left, then from left to right, that's all; it's like a game that mischievous children play when they're roughhousing with their friends.

The only difference is that it is hundreds of times faster than them, fast enough to create a series of mirage-like double images in the air!

Zhang Renfeng leaned forward slightly, leaping left and right with a posture reminiscent of short track speed skating. His heavy armor forcefully tore through the air, emitting a continuous rustling sound, and with each movement, it created a series of afterimages at the same time.

Such clumsy, yet straightforward light-footed skill enabled him to pass through the dense hail of bullets unscathed.

Of course, bullets did hit him, but those were mostly coincidences.

Even if there were a sharpshooter with exceptional dynamic vision who could pinpoint his location and successfully fire, it wouldn't matter. His heavy armor already protected his vital organs completely; at most, a few insignificant sparks would be scraped off the armor.

The moment the afterimage disappeared, a gust of wind rushed towards me.

That terrifying figure, within two seconds, broke through the crossfire from the front and flanks, directly entering the center. With calm, emotionless black eyes, it surveyed everyone as if it weren't on a battlefield, but engaged in a leisurely activity like fishing or playing cards.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment.

His eyes were calm.

But the two halberds he held aloft in his hands seemed to think otherwise.

"ah------!!!!"

The soldiers at the front lines screamed in despair.

----

"call……"

Let out a breath.

Zhang Renfeng leaped forward and charged into the enemy ranks, using his twin halberds as twin swords, and unleashing the third sword among the Six Swords, specifically designed for fighting multiple opponents—the Well-Dumping Sword!

He had long since reached the point where he needed a sword to unleash its full power. While he hadn't yet reached the level of "using a leaf or a flower as a sword," he was still quite proficient with short, cold weapons.

The two short halberds in his hands were slightly shorter than ordinary swords, but they were still sufficient for his needs.

"boom------!"

Nine hundred and ninety-nine sword techniques, like bullets, poured out simultaneously, forming an impenetrable hemisphere on the battlefield. This engulfed all the soldiers who were relatively close by!

Although the weapons were about the same length, their weights differed significantly. Zhang Renfeng no longer aimed to slice his opponent's body open with the blade, but instead intended to use the weight of the short halberd to smash his opponent's body to pieces!

Then, amidst screams of agony...

The third sword, which should have been pure black, was also stained crimson by the rising blood mist.

----

"what……"

Matthews watched this scene from afar, his jaw seemingly dislocated, unable to close for a long time.

The nine hundred and ninety-nine sword techniques of Daojing have been fully executed.

Zhang Renfeng remained standing there, wielding his twin halberds, his expression calm, as if not a drop of sweat had fallen. Only, dripping blood trickled down from the two heavy short halberds. Not a single drop was his own.

Around him lay soldiers, their bodies mangled beyond recognition. Those who retained even a semblance of a complete outline were considered lucky; most had been smashed to pieces by short halberds, scattered here and there, all mixed together.

A sense of despair welled up inside me.

Matthews' lips trembled slightly. He wanted to continue organizing the attack, but the words caught in his throat, unable to be uttered. He couldn't help but wonder, if he were standing in front of Zhang Renfeng right now, shrouded in the shadow cast by his armor, would he have the courage to raise his gun even half an inch after hearing his superior's order?

Just as he was thinking desperately, he suddenly saw Zhang Renfeng raise his double halberds and swing them sharply forward!

"Whistle—!"