Chapter 277 - 168: Threshold Fenghou Strength

Chapter 277: Chapter 168: Threshold Fenghou Strength

Countless intricate light patterns flowed rapidly across the doorframe. Ripples in space distorted the scene within the gate, and a violent, alien demonic aura surged forth as if it were tangible!

"WEE-OOO—WEE-OOO—WEE-OOO!!!"

The shrill, ear-piercing alarm instantly shattered the tranquility of the entire underground fortress.

Flashing red alarm lights pulsed frantically, bathing the cold alloy walls in a bloody crimson.

"Assemble! Emergency assembly!"

"Enemy attack! The Stargate is active!"

"Move! Highest state of alert!"

The chaotic sound of footsteps, tense and urgent shouts, and the clang of equipment all mingled together.

The Godfiend warriors on duty and those resting rushed out from every corner, sprinting to their designated battle stations at top speed.

Every face was extremely grim, without a trace of their usual ease.

The reason was simple.

The Demon Race were not stupid beasts. Ever since their first invasion, they only ever attacked after amassing a force behind the gate, one they believed was large enough to ensure victory.

Every time the alarm sounded, it signaled a desperate, life-or-death battle to defend the gate.

Every invasion could come at the cost of blood, just like the battle in Bluestone County.

The ethereal blue light reached its peak, and the spatial vortex at the center of the Stargate spun madly.

The first wave of invaders appeared.

There were twenty of them!

Twenty figures stepped through the Star Gate simultaneously. Their heavy bodies hit the ground, stirring up a visible shockwave of demonic aura.

They had varied forms, but without exception, the energy fluctuations radiating from their bodies had all reached the Late-stage Bright Moon Realm.

A unique pressure belonging to the Demon Race, mixed with a violent and bloodthirsty aura, filled the entire underground space.

This was the limit of a small-to-medium-sized Stargate’s single-transfer energy capacity.

For the first wave to be twenty Late-stage Bright Moon Realm demons was an extremely rare and dangerous opening.

Their appearance alone signaled that the Demon Race’s determination this time was extraordinary.

The twenty late-stage demons set foot on Blue Star’s soil. They didn’t immediately launch a brainless charge, but instead quickly formed a stable formation.

Their cold, bestial eyes scanned the Human Race’s defensive line, which stood in disciplined formation. They seemed to be assessing them, but more importantly, they were waiting—waiting for the Flying Star Realm demon soldiers that would be transported next.

"Requesting backup! Highest-level red alert! Antai County is under a large-scale invasion! First wave confirmed to be twenty Late-stage Bright Moon Realm demons! I repeat, twenty Late-stage Bright Moon Realm demons!"

The garrison captain screamed himself hoarse into the communicator, his voice cracking and raspy.

The disparity in power was too great. Calling for aid was their only path to survival.

There was no more talk.

Almost at the same moment the captain shouted for aid, the eyes of both sides met across the space.

One side was grim, ready to fight to the death. The other was cruel, bloodthirsty, and confident of victory.

The battle erupted in an instant!

The Human Race’s garrison had only ten Godfiends. Although they had a powerhouse holding the line, they were at a disadvantage in both numbers and quality. From the very first clash, they were forced into an extremely defensive position.

Their exquisite coordination and unwavering will to fight to the death barely held the defensive line in a few areas, but the overall situation was already like a bursting dam, irreversibly sliding toward the abyss of collapse.

Blades flashed and sword shadows danced. Demonic aura surged everywhere.

The sturdy underground fortress passage had become a meat grinder. The thunderous boom of colliding energies, the clang of weapons, the pained grunts of the wounded, and the roars of the Demon Race mingled with the shrill alarm, weaving a symphony of despair and heroic tragedy.

Every breath was accompanied by new wounds and fading strength.

Defeat seemed to be only a matter of time.

An air of despair spread silently among the Human Race defenders as casualties mounted rapidly.

...

The red alert from the Antai County Stargate tore through the night sky. The signal pierced through space, instantly reaching Li Wen’s communication terminal in Bluestone County.

Without a moment’s hesitation, not even having time to give any instructions, Li Wen’s figure had already transformed into a streak of light, shooting toward an aircraft on the landing pad.

The cabin door closed and the engine let out a low roar. The aircraft instantly broke the sound barrier, becoming a silver meteor tearing through the night sky as it rocketed toward Antai County at the terrifying speed of dozens of Mach.

Not long after Li Wen’s aircraft sped away, a figure silently materialized in the sky above Bluestone County. It was the Cloud Dragon King, who had arrived several days prior.

He used no external aids. His figure paused for a moment, seeming to merge with the breeze, and in the next instant, he gave chase at a speed that rivaled the aircraft’s.

His posture was relaxed, yet his trajectory through the air was too fast for the naked eye to follow.

Meanwhile, in the shadow of a desolate mountain peak on the border between Antai County and Bluestone County, a figure stood like molten rock, their aura concealed so perfectly that not a single trace leaked out.

From behind a cold, dark-silver mask intricately carved with fine serpentine patterns, a pair of icy eyes pierced the darkness, locking firmly onto the silver streak speeding across the horizon—Li Wen’s aircraft.

’He’s here,’ a raspy, almost inaudible voice muttered to itself.

When the aircraft entered a certain invisible, critical range, the figure on the desolate mountain suddenly moved.

There was no earth-shattering display of power, only a terrifying pressure—cold, vast, and soul-freezing—that descended abruptly.

BOOM!

The formless pressure crashed down like an ocean of immeasurable weight, instantly blanketing the entire airspace.

The high-speed aircraft felt as if it had slammed into an invisible wall of divine iron. Its speed plummeted, and the airframe groaned as if under an unbearable load.

Inside the cockpit, Li Wen’s pupils contracted sharply. A profound sense of crisis, born from primal instinct, shot up his spine like an ice pick.

In that instant, he felt the space around him freeze solid and lock into place. His blood seemed to stop flowing, and even his thoughts grew sluggish.