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Chapter 413: Chapter 413- Festival 144- Raid on a Rainy Night 83

Guns were useful tools in a ti of distress, yes.

But they lacked features possessed by other weapons, which made them vulnerable to failure in desperate tis. Or in the face of an unparalleled force such as the 10th star or circle.

The feature was an obvious one. Not pondered on most tis, but looked upon as sothing normal.

That would be the reload.

It was different from other weapons as they required a certain number of tis before it was set to full charge and sent out to unleash certain destruction in the world.

The ti differed. It could be worked upon.

Made quicker. Or sotis slower but never stepped over.

It was a process that ca with it.

A feature that represented it.

Without the reload, a gun was useless.

And without the ti to reload, the gunn were open. Wide.

Ciara waited patiently for that mont to co and now that it did, hesitation beca a stepping stone which she easily walked over.

She charged through.

Brushing the man’s body aside with a subtle grunt, she gazed over her surroundings.

Her pupils dilated and darted about like a ping-pong ball.

Siphoning the sight into the back of her skull with vivid images.

Descriptive in every form.

She counted, observed and peered.

Straight into their bodies. Their systems.

Ciara didn’t need mana to spot down her prey.

No, that required observation on a max skill, and she had that for a long ti.

Nurtured it to get into the hearts of many before and after her.

Venture into their words. Their actions and see right through them.

It worked most of the ti.

‘Most tis.’

The image of a white haired with colourless eyes flashed through her brain in a heartbeat.

It tugged a string in her body. Pulling adrenaline and a surge of fiery warmth within her. Anger.

‘Raffaelo Jun.’

She shook her head. Burying the na before it even sprang roots and raised her gun vertically into the air.

The tallic work of art whistled with a hollow tune.

Shimring under the luminance cast through the walls of the blue Pipelines.

Its edges and lines glinted in that spark.

A malevolent hue suffused the air from her stance as a whirlwind sound echoed.

The charging of molecular Manganite, an arcane alloy of magical tal and earth.

It humd with a slow tune. Almost whistle-like, and increased with ti.

Projecting its sound against the ironwork of the walls.

The Masked n rushed to charge their weapons.

Their bodily expressions were laced with wariness and tension. An ensuing pressure hung in the air, over their heads.

Ready to land with their heads.

They struggled while they moved in haste.

Heads occasionally look up to find the next location of their supposed captive.

For a second, one of them– the second masked figure who had been with the first, a mont ago had an especially wary gaze on Ciara.

After all, he was only a few feet away from her. His gun was locked, yet loaded.

His fingers trembled under the weight of her crimson gaze which peered into his. And for a mont, they simply locked gazes onto one another.

In that instance, he had placed his fingers under the silver grip of his handgun. Tapped it with a delicate touch that caused the magazine to slide down with a slick.

He pulled it out, grabbed it tightly and slamd it against his knee.

A sudden rush of light sparked in the bullets within the magazine. An auto-reload format used for guns such as this.

With the light ca a small bolt of mana that rushed through the magazine.

He flipped it back under the gun, his gaze still focused on Ciara and then tried to plunge it back into the grip.

It stuck.

His chest tightened. Blood vessels dilated and a rush of adrenaline and crimson fluid rushed through the entirety of his system.

He was sent into fight or flight without even realising it.

But that mont would all co to an end.

With a slight click of his tongue, he glanced down at his gun. Just a second to catch his focus back and easily load it once more.

Then he looked up.

Gone.

She was gone.

A cold shiver ran down his spine as a silence settled in the air.

One that brought dread rather than relief. Tension rather than Calm.

His body jolted as he forced himself to a halt.

Quickly turning his head behind while his thoughts lingered.

‘Behind for sure!’

He thought to himself, confident in his decision when his head finally looked back.

Nothing.

The realisation dawned like a war hamr to his skull.

A biting headache to his sense of reasoning.

His face contorted deeply in confusion when a voice pierced the air.

“BEHIND YOU!”

Too late.

The raw coldness of the tallic barrel ca first.

Right at the back of his head and what followed–

BANG!

It caused a sharp ring in his scalp. Followed by a world of pain that seed to diminish with ti. Rubbish blurred his vision, wavy motions that made utterly no sense.

Though, his brain was far gone from processing it.

His head spun. Literally.

Then his body flipped down without hesitation or doubt. Landing squarely on the platform with a thud. Powerful.

A heavy quiet took root in the room.

One that held aning for many more.

So had their gaze on their dead comrade, but many more were chasing after their captive.

“KILL HER!”

A command, unlike others.

This fostered camaraderie in a matter of seconds.

Pulling the group into one motion. One goal.

The original purpose didn’t matter now.

No– what did, was survival.

Ciara moved in a blur.

Before the air was filled with the jolts of bullets that ca in like rain.

BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!!!

The sound had changed.

Not just the disparity of the situation, but the charge of the gun.

Ciara’s gaze lingered for a mont. Her ears perked to the sound of the gunshots while her body sprang with sothing sharp. Invisible to the naked eye, yet it made a world of difference in her confrontation.

She sighed.

‘They overcharged the guns.’

Right then, her head jerked back with the rest of her body. Just as a bullet rushed past her and struck the interior of a pipeline.

The effect, imdiate.

A small eruption of sound and power surged as the bullets struck the Pipelines.

Explosions of white and smoke ignited in a matter of seconds from the onslaught of bullets.

Her body reacted before she could process it.

No, she didn’t let her head do the talking.

Just her body.

Jumping into the air, her gun whipped out and pulled the trigger four tis.

Four figures grunted in pain as blood erupted from their foreheads.

Their bodies clamped before falling off the platform they stood on.

These were the Masked figures above– and generally her first targets.

The group recovered instantly. Trailing their guns after their movents.

Ciara landed on the wall of the pipeline with a thud.

Her head darted to the side where five more stood with their weapons pointed at her.

Their hesitation had been buried in the hearts of the mbers she killed and their weapons were already making quick work of the Pipelines.

Shooting and ravaging the iron work she stood on while inching closer to her body.

Ciara ignored and rushed forward. Balancing herself with her feet and right arm while climbing towards them.

She held up her gun, while her gaze was locked on the figures. Her eyes were glowing crimson, as an ominous hue danced in the depths of her eyes.

It sent a shiver down their spines, but they never stopped. Never yielded and only pulled the trigger ti and ti again.

The bullets rushed past Ciara, grazing her body with a sharp whistle but a few more landed right on target.

It erupted into a gust of wind and force, followed by a surge of crackling static that ravaged the air as smoke blood from the rain of bullets.

It clouded Ciara’s figure. Her presence.

Then blocked the Masked figures from witnessing her expected demise.

“Hold.”

One announced but the rain of bullets never stopped.

In fact, it seed to have increased.

The air escalated with the rippling songs of gunfire and exploding bullets that rained smoke and destruction onto the surface of the Pipelines.

Piercing through it with relative ease while causing a pained moan to echo from the denting of iron.

The explosions increased. Filling the air with the aftertaste of mana dust and sothing more. Charged particles, with a constant distortion and buzz of space.

It was a blast. An echo.

An influence of gun machinery in its purest form.

It filled the air with noise. Purposeless chaos that grew irritating.

The one who announced glanced at them. His gaze narrowed as a low groan shook his throat.

He walked up to the figure next to him and sent his fist raining in his face.

The effect was an imdiate cessation of all firing as the figures turned to him in unison.

Their expressions were masked with their faces, but the tension in their bodies and mannerisms had made their emotions clear.

Fear.

They stared at him in startelent. Guns were still pointed at the area where Ciara was last spotted.

“I said hold, damn it!” He announced again.

The others glanced at each other. Their chest was heavy and lungs taunt with air.

They eased their shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief.

Glancing at the spot with caution.

They stood in silence and observed.

The spot was masked by the pressure of the smoke and dust raised in the air from the explosion of the bullets.

A foggy blockage to their vision.

It lingered like stale air, dispersing in slow amounts.

“Did we get her?” another asked.

“You tell . You shot even after I said not to.”

They glanced at one another once more.

Then at the figure who had ordered them to stop.

“We panicked.”

“Understandable but undesirable.” He said. His tone, low and harsh. Discerning in the way of an authority figure. “We need adults, not children incapable of controlling their emotions.”

They stood in silence for a mont. Sighing outwardly as they turned away.

Now, their attention was on the gust of white smoke. All of them.

“The bullets hit her. I saw it.” Another said.

“Well, yes. So did I…but we can never tell.”

“I agree. She ran into this place when she knew she would get hit…it’s either she was really dumb like any other child.”

The one who ordered them let his voice drop to a low whisper when a flicker of movent went off in their peripheral vision.

“…Or wanted to get hit…”

The others turned towards the source of the disturbance. A gust of wind plucked out of the fog of white smoke.

Or so they thought, until they spotted the source.

Ciara.

Eyes blazing with crimson intent while her body was whole and perfectly unblemished.

Her gun pointed forward before they could even process the information of her presence.

And the trigger was pulled five tis.

BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!!!

You are reading I regressed and became the Sword Ice King Chapter 413: 413- Festival 144- Raid on a Rainy Night 83 on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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