Chapter 421: Chapter 425: The Last Queen’s Guard Chapter 421: Chapter 425: The Last Queen’s Guard Enemies appeared suddenly after the team entered a corridor that led straight into the depths of darkness—and their numbers seed endless.
A sharp whooshing sound ca from beside him; a scimitar swung viciously towards his neck, but Lawrence reflexively leaned back just in ti, grabbing the arm wielding the scimitar. Green flas instantly erupted from the edges of his palm, turning a monster, clad in a navy uniform with its head split vertically, to ashes. Before he could react, a series of gunshots rang out from across the way.
The shots were fired by a creeping monster that had suddenly crawled out of a drain—the creature had a human-like upper body, but its lower half was a writhing mass resembling deford innards. It clutched a “rifle” seemingly cobbled together from bones and flesh, the muzzle of which—despite looking completely aberrant—spewed tongues of fire.
Lawrence’s gaze instantly sharpened, and ti around him seed to slow. He felt his Eye Power in that instant far exceeded that of an ordinary person by countless tis, and he could even clearly see the trajectory of the bullets flying towards him—next instant, he twisted his body, dodging the incoming bullets in an unimaginably agile manner.
Dodging thrice, he was hit by six bullets.
“Damn monster!!” Intense pain shot through him, and the old captain let loose a curse before raising his revolver and firing two shots at the beast.
He lowered his head to look at his chest, seeing several shocking bullet holes had ripped through the flesh there. Yet, under the burning of the Phantom Fla, the translucent Spiritual Body flesh was healing at a visibly rapid pace.
Not fatal, but it resulted in intense pain and fatigue. The power of the fla also seed to be gradually depleting—still abundant for now, but it was difficult to say if it would ever run out.
anwhile, Lawrence’s fully ard crew continued to fight—these sailors, wrapped in Spectral Fla, were aware of their current temporary state of immortality. Their combat style beca increasingly fierce as they resisted the seemingly unkillable monsters with guns, bayonets, and short swords, desperately trying to push forward through the corridor.
However, just like Lawrence, everyone was still adapting to their “Spiritual Body” state, let alone mastering the Spectral Fla. These sailors, who had montarily gained immortality, were simply squandering their strength and firepower. The battle within the tunnel had descended into chaos to the point of being unbearable to witness.
Therefore, despite regenerative bodies, they could only move forward at an excruciatingly slow pace under the endless siege of monsters, with no sight of a breakthrough.
The only one unaffected by the Spectral Fla at the scene was the mummy—Abnormal 077 was also fighting, swinging two scimitars with an agility that defied its mummified status, charging back and forth through the battlefield like the wind. If not for his greatly enhanced vision, Lawrence doubted he could track the mummy’s movents.
But now, with his vision far beyond that of an ordinary person, Abnormal 077’s speed seed less outrageous. He could clearly see the mummy threading through a safe path on the battlefield, its scimitars flipping up and down, still as sharp as new after half an hour—the blades hadn’t touched anything at all.
The “sailor” was just running back and forth in the corridor, waving blades, his shouts louder than anyone else.
“I’ll carve the path with my scimitars!” The mummy’s raucous voice echoed through the corridor, accompanied by the whoosh of blades cutting through the air, “These ugly abominations are no match for !”
Lawrence took a large step forward, seizing the neck of the “sailor” who was about to charge past, his strength so imnse that he pulled the sprinting mummy directly in front of him, his hoarse voice accompanying the crackling of flas, “If you can’t be of help, at least be quiet!”
Abnormal 077’s neck was clenched, its withered head re centiters from Lawrence, shaking all over, “Yes… yes… yes! Captain!”
Lawrence raised his hand and hurled the mummy ten ters ahead, “Go clear the path—if we can’t break through today, I’ll stuff you into the steam core’s combustion chamber!”
The mummy scread as it was thrown, finally grappling with the continuously erging, mud-like monsters, while a crew mber carrying a rifle ran over, shouting next to Lawrence, “Captain! We’re almost out of bullets!”
Lawrence whirled around, seeing that nearly all his n had begun fighting those creatures with lee weapons. They were relying on their trait of being undead to hold up in this corridor, but the overall advance of the team had clearly halted.
No longer able to move forward.
With no escape route either.
The corridor was filled with chaotic cries and blood-curdling sounds of flesh ripping and limbs breaking. The black mud on the surrounding walls and ceiling continued to seep out, transforming the crew into Spiritual Bodies almost overwheld by the endless monsters. Their weapons were running out of ammo, and the Spectral Fla on his body was still burning, but fatigue was accumulating, which even began to slow and interfere with his thoughts.
In the midst of this chaotic sewer, Lawrence suddenly felt a trace of trance, even beginning to feel the whole world becoming unreal—
“”Who am I, where am I, what am I doing… The monsters here are endless, but how much longer until the agreed midnight?
At that mont, as if to respond to his own bewildernt, Lawrence suddenly heard Martha’s voice coming from the small mirror on his chest:
“They’re here.”
The old captain jolted awake from his confusion. Hastily, he drew his short sword from his waist and stabbed at a monster lunging at him, then retreated quickly to avoid the black sludge almost splattering on him while swiftly raising his head.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor—so many footsteps, along with distant and ethereal shouts and the sounds of orders being relayed. Then, those sounds rapidly approached, almost instantly reaching the area where Lawrence and the sailors were fighting fiercely.
In the blink of an eye, countless figures appeared.
It was as if they had erged from the tis of yore; one after another, shadows condensed in the air and took the form of fully ard soldiers, clutching old-fashioned rifles from half a century ago. The bayonets on the rifles glinted coldly in the dark corridor. They charged from the darkness and into another—this congealing of shadows didn’t interrupt their charge; it was as though their battle had never ceased, and only now could their figures be observed.
The sailors fighting in the corridor were stunned by the sudden sight before them, instinctively stopping in their tracks. They watched the troops rush in, fire at the ubiquitous monsters, and roar as they plunged into the fight. It took several seconds before a sailor ca to his senses, murmuring in amazent, “The last of the Queen’s Guard…”
Lawrence also snapped back to reality. Instinctively, he stepped forward, approaching a young soldier who was loading his rifle—the soldier looked to be at most twenty years old. His uniform, that of the old City-State Guards, was tattered, as if he had been scuffling in these sewers for ages.
“Hello, we’re here to help…” Lawrence reached out to pat the young soldier on the shoulder, but he stopped midsentence.
His hand passed through the figure.
Was this but an illusion?
Lawrence looked up perplexedly, only to see that those ghost-like soldiers had already engaged in fierce combat with the monsters in the corridor. Their guns fired continuously, and the humanoid abominations made of filthy sludge fell one after another.
A tall soldier charged from the other side. Lawrence hurriedly dodged but wasn’t quick enough; he watched as the tall soldier, as if not seeing him, ran towards him and passed through his body like a phantom—then, struck by a stray bullet from a monster, the large figure crashed to the ground in the sewer.
The other Queen’s Guard soldiers bypassed the fallen body and continued down the corridor.
A sailor walked by Lawrence, muttering behind him, “They are apparitions…”
“But these apparitions can fight those monsters, they can even kill them…” Lawrence said, bewildered, still feeling like he was dreaming.
“The number of monsters in the corridor is no longer increasing.” another sailor said beside him.
Lawrence imdiately realized.
For the first ti, the number of monsters in the corridor was decreasing significantly—after the arrival of the Queen’s Guard composed of apparitions, the black sludge that had continued to pour from the walls and ceilings finally stopped seeping. The malford creatures, which were previously innurable no matter how many were slain, were now truly being reduced in number!
Could the presence of the Queen’s Guard be suppressing the monsters’ “regeneration” and “reproduction”?
Countless questions filled Lawrence’s mind, but rather than seeking answers to these questions, he knew sothing more important needed to be done.
“Follow the Queen’s Guard!” He raised his hand high, commanding loudly, “Follow the path they’ve cleared!”
“Yes, captain!””
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