Beneath the gloomy sky, at the distant edge of the plain, a blaze appeared.
It was a hellfire raging against the heavens—deep crimson like blood, fierce as a demon.
No one could have imagined such a scene. Not the Silver Priest, not Tong Qi, not anyone involved in planning the massacre—no one could have pictured this moment.
They'd considered a thousand, ten thousand scenarios for an enemy attack, but never this one.
The soldiers were stunned, the cultists were stunned, even the priests and the Dharma Kings froze. No one could comprehend this phenomenon—it was like witnessing a miracle.
That blaze surged forward with a lonely, fierce, and domineering momentum. From the far side of the plain, it didn’t dodge, didn’t circle—it charged straight ahead.
It sped like the wind and lightning, streaking with dazzling light. The momentum was earth-shaking, as if it could stir the very clouds. Though the distance made it hard to judge speed, a master like Tong Qi’s face changed instantly—he knew that hellfire, leaping a full zhang into the air, was unimaginably fast.
Have you ever seen a bullet train roar past? If you’ve ever stood near the tracks, that shrill wind, that flash of terrifying speed—it makes you feel how fragile the human body is, how easily it could be crushed. Absolute speed brings absolute pressure.
But the Rebel Rider’s cruising speed is double that of a bullet train, and its designed top speed is nearly three times as fast!
This heavy, massive, domineering machine was never meant for ordinary humans. With the Rebel Rider’s super-powered core reactor, it can reach legendary, dreamlike speeds. Only two things limit it: first, it overheats after running at full power, risking damage to its components. Second, the rider themselves.
The long-laid trap finally showed its fangs. Chains and iron nets flew skyward, armor-piercing arrows nocked and ready, spiked pit covers ripped open. Tom Seven swung out two giant chests—smack!—they exploded, showering iron spikes in every direction.
They’d planned for high-speed enemy charges before. Sure, this time the speed was nuts, but the strategy was the same: slow 'em down, then swarm with a thousand troops. Even the Western Chu Overlord would die to this ant-swarm tactic—Jade Hawk Johnson doesn’t stand a chance!
Passenger Fang Hui clamped onto the person in front, knuckles white. If their pace faltered, it’d be game over.
But the rider just reached out and pressed a button. Wham! The Rebel Rider’s armor split down the middle, revealing a glowing cone—energy fully charged and ready to go.
Boom—a thick, dark red beam shot out and slammed into the traps and gadgets. After a split second of silence, the world erupted in a massive explosion. Crimson flames swept the battlefield, the blast deafening, fire spraying everywhere. Enemy soldiers caught fire, howling in panic.
“Get outta my way!” Yang Qi fired with zero restraint, not caring if she wrecked the Rebel Rider. Dark red beams blasted trap after trap, saturating the earth like a bombing run, flattening obstacles and scattering archers. The enemy’s morale crumbled.
“Still got guts? Come get wrecked!” The enemy’s eyes flared red—Daoist Baishun’s true energy exploded, surging sky-high. He channeled ghostly qi into his palms, then from a hundred zhang away, bellowed and hurled a flurry of handprints: “Nether—Ghost Waterfall!!”
Whoosh! Countless eerie green handprints erupted like a waterfall, blotting out the sky, surging toward the hellfire. The wind howled, ghosts wailed, and the attack felt like it could swallow every living thing.
But suddenly, a giant sword emerged from the flames—its shape unclear, but massive, long, and glowing red like molten rock. It looked like a nightmare weapon straight out of a demon’s armory.
The long-prepared trap bared its fangs. Chains and iron nets flew into the air, armor-piercing arrows nocked on bowstrings, spiked pit covers flung open. Tom Seven spread his arms wide, hurling two massive chests. With a palm strike from afar—crash!—the chests exploded, scattering iron spikes in every direction.
They’d prepared for enemy charges before—even if this speed was insane, the strategy was the same: slow them down, then swarm. Even the Western Chu Overlord would fall to this ant-swarm tactic—surely Jade Hawk Johnson can’t survive!
Passenger Fang Hui nervously gripped the person in front. If their steps were slowed, it’d be all over.
But the rider just pressed a button—the Rebel Rider’s armor split, revealing a glowing cone, energy fully charged.
A thick, dark red beam shot out, striking the traps. After a silent instant—an earth-shattering explosion. Crimson flames swept the area, deafening blasts, fire splashed everywhere, and enemy soldiers screamed as they caught fire.
“Get out of my way!” Yang Qi fired relentlessly, risking damage to the Rebel Rider. Crimson beams blasted trap after trap, saturating the land like a bombing run, flattening obstacles and scattering archers. The enemy’s morale shattered.
“Still acting tough? Your life is mine!” The enemy’s rage exploded—Daoist Baishun’s energy surged as he hurled ghostly handprints from a hundred zhang away: “Xuanming—Ghost Waterfall!!”
Countless eerie green handprints erupted like a waterfall, blotting out the sky and surging toward the hellfire. The wind howled, ghosts wailed, and the attack seemed to devour all life.
Suddenly, a giant sword appeared in the flames—its shape unclear, but massive and glowing red like molten lava, a nightmare weapon fit for a demon.
The walls of Fortress City loomed close.
“Haa—!” The giant sword swung down, cleaving the ghostly waterfall in two. Hellfire ignited the spirits—amid shrieks, the green handprints burned and scattered as sparks.
“Huh?!” Tom Seven’s eyes flashed. He shouted, “He can’t take to the air now!”
If he could fly, that sword would’ve seriously injured Baishun. Tom Seven’s quick thinking revealed the truth. Baishun shrieked and tried to rally, but the figure in the flames suddenly pulled out a silver contraption and fired.
A surge of danger hit Baishun. He twisted, just as a loud bang sounded. The tearing of muscle was the last thing he felt—his jaw muscle pierced and ripped, green fluid spraying as he crashed from midair.
Yang Qi wielded the giant sword in her right hand, a gun in her left, steering with powerful waist and legs. She fired and slashed, keeping enemies at bay. Her sunglasses hid her sharp eyes, but not her lethal intent. If not for bad timing, she’d have cut down her enemies right then.
But now, she sensed the weakened heartbeat of the woman clinging to her back—she couldn’t stop now.
“Who dares stand in my way!!”
Boom! The giant sword swept aside all before it. The Rebel Rider charged straight for Fortress City, shredding defenses, smashing towers, and plowing through arrows and martial force.
“Damn, he broke through!” “Don’t let him get ahead!” “Attack—catch up!” Silver Priest panicked as the trap was torn apart. He roared, unleashing energy and sped after them, but even the greatest master couldn’t catch the full-speed Rebel Rider.
The walls of Fortress City loomed close.
Fang Hui drew a deep breath and shouted the secret code. Instantly, the Fortress City cultists erupted in cheers. The Four Grand Archons barked orders, sending people to open the gates for the Saintess and reinforcements.
But Yang Qi had no intention of waiting for their slow gate-opening.
Behind them, Silver Priest glared and hurled a spear, its killing intent slicing through the air. But dragon-shaped shadows erupted from Yang Qi’s legs.
Boom—an explosion split the earth. The blaze leapt, carrying the passengers over the inner city wall, soaring above the stunned Manichaean cultists, then crashing down in a shower of sparks.
The spear struck with a crunch, piercing the wall but achieving nothing.
The Four Grand Archons shouted as they ran over, but Yang Qi ignored them, asking loudly, “Which way?”
Fang Hui pointed, “That way!”
“Hold on tight!” The engine roared as the Rebel Rider charged into the depths of the Promised Land. Yang Qi raised her sword, smashing through gates and barriers, reaching the mountain’s core in a flash.
Ahead, a glowing stone wall and an old man stood guard. This was the heart of the Promised Land, where the Saintess Ceremony should take place. Fang Hui shouted, but Yang Qi gunned the engine, charging straight at the strange wall.
“The Heavenly Gate isn’t open yet—!!”
Those were Fang Hui’s words.
Boom! Flames erupted, stones shattered, and a huge hole was blasted in the strange stone wall.
That was Yang Qi’s answer.
The Legacy Archon was stunned, staring at the hole in the wall. This ancient sanctuary had been violently breached, but behind the wall was a path. He gazed at the light streaming from the hole, then composed himself and sighed, “This is fate.”
Suddenly, he stood, tore off his old cloak, revealing a robust frame and sharp eyes. He was an Eastern man with yellow skin and graying hair. He turned, footsteps slowing as Silver Priest approached, hands bloodied.
Silver Priest narrowed his eyes and stopped ten zhang away.
Their eyes met, and sparks seemed to fly in the air.
Then he looked back at the wall, quietly gripping the Sacred Flame Token.
“This is what I’ve been searching for.”
Meanwhile, the Rebel Rider sped onward.
The moment they broke through the stone wall, all senses blurred. Fang Hui and the others felt as if they’d entered a world both real and illusory—supposedly in the dark mountain, but it seemed they were racing across endless wilds, climbing upward despite speeding down.
A mysterious, powerful psychic field enveloped them, distorting their senses and revealing impossible visions.
This was the will of the Sacred Flame.