King of Hundred Victories Saber-Chapter 542 - 186: The Battle of Flying Tiger Pass: The Five Poison Sect’s Crushing Defeat and a Stunning Turnaround (Part 2)
Its eyes glowed crimson, flashing with a bloodthirsty light, and green poison dripped incessantly from its mouth, corroding deep pits in the cobblestone path wherever it went.
By the street stood a small grocery store, its owner a man over sixty, preparing to close up and avoid this sudden disaster.
However, the poisonous bear had already spotted him, letting out a deafening roar. With a fierce swipe of its paw, it shattered the store’s door. The old man couldn’t dodge in time and was struck by the paw, his body flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into the wall opposite. Blood spurted from his mouth, eyes filled with terror and despair, and he died on the spot.
Not far away, a group of children fled in panic, cries and shouts mingling together.
A nimble poisonous wolf targeted one of the younger children, pouncing like a black lightning bolt towards him.
The child fell to the ground in fright, screaming in terror, his voice slicing through the sky.
The wolf’s sharp claws tore open the child’s clothes in an instant, leaving horrifying bloody marks on his tender back.
The child wailed in pain and struggled desperately but could not escape the wolf’s attack. Just as the wolf was about to bite again, a young mother rushed over, holding a wooden stick, and fearlessly struck at the wolf.
The wolf turned, glaring fiercely at the mother, who did not flinch, her eyes filled only with worry and protective instincts for her child.
The wolf leaped at the mother, who couldn’t avoid it, getting bitten on the arm, her sleeve instantly soaked in blood. Yet she held tight to the stick, continuing to fight the wolf, seeking a sliver of hope for her child.
Other poisonous beasts carried scales thick with deadly poison. They rampaged through the streets, and anyone grazed by their scales found their skin instantly rotting, the wounds quickly turning black and emitting a foul stench.
A middle-aged woman with a bamboo basket on her back was grazed by a poisonous beast. She looked at her disintegrating arm in horror, letting out a scream of despair. The surrounding people wanted to help but feared the beasts and the poison, not daring to approach, and could only watch helplessly as she struggled in pain. In the marketplace, the beasts trampled freely, overturning stalls and houses.
A vegetable vendor uncle was knocked to the ground by a beast, its massive paw on his leg, and with a "crack," his leg bone shattered.
He writhed on the ground in pain, crying for help, but his voice was drowned out by the roars of the beasts and the cries and shouts of the people.
The entire Flying Tiger Pass was filled with the painful figures of the townsfolk.
The streets were littered with injured people, some clutching wounds, others moaning in pools of blood, the air thick with the acrid scent of blood and the rancid odor of the beasts. The beasts’ rampage had plunged Flying Tiger Pass into a Human Purgatory.
The "Divine Archer" Miao Menlong stood atop a high place in Flying Tiger Pass, as steady as a pine tree, his clothes fluttering in the fierce wind.
He slowly drew his powerful bow, the bowstring taut and round like a full moon, exuding a potential energy eager to be released.
The sharp arrow was set on the string, glistening with a sinister cold light in the cool moonlight, like a meteor crossing the night sky, ready to deliver a fatal strike to the enemy at any moment.
His gaze was sharp as a hawk’s, intensely fixed on the movements of the poisonous beasts.
Every arrow shot accompanied a sharp whistling sound, like a blade slicing through the air, carrying an unstoppable momentum.
One could see an arrow, like a bolt from the blue, accurately piercing a poisonous beast’s throat. The beast, in pain, threw its head back, letting out an ultimate, piercing scream, echoing through the sky, making the surrounding air tremble.
Subsequently, its massive body collapsed like a fallen mountain, raising a cloud of dust.
Yet, the number of poisonous beasts was like countless stars, a surging black tide, continually rushing madly towards Miao Menlong’s position. The narrow streets of Flying Tiger Pass, like a shackle, limited the beasts’ movements.
They crowded together in the confined space, bodies colliding and rubbing, becoming slow and hindered in their actions.
But precisely because of this, the densely packed beasts provided Miao Menlong with countless targets.
Though Miao Menlong’s archery was exceptional, as he watched the endless beasts, he couldn’t help feeling secretly anxious.
He knew that if this continued, the arrows held by his comrades in the Heroic Sakura Association’s Divine Arrow Camp would eventually be exhausted, while the beasts seemed endless, flooding in from all directions.
At this moment, the people fell into chaos, scattering in all directions.
Crying and calls for help mingled together, like a symphony of despair.
Yet even so, some young and strong people, driven by deep love and protection for their homeland, resolutely picked up farm tools, joining the fight against the beasts.
They might not have advanced martial skills or professional training, but their burning patriotic hearts, their attachment and dedication to their home, were unwavering.
A young man, face flushed, eyes burning with anger and courage, holding a hoe, charged at a beast, which was brandishing its claws, attempting to attack an elderly person.
He used all his strength to lift the hoe high, then slammed it down hard on the beast’s back.
