WHAT! I Have To Kill Heaven's Son To Live!-Chapter 183: Saving The Favorite Supporting Character (5)

Chapter 183: Chapter 183: Saving The Favorite Supporting Character (5)

The Gang Leader marched to the center atop the gate wall. He was a huge, shirtless brute with bulging muscles and a massive cleaver-like blade resting on his shoulder.

His face twisted in anger as he stared down at the lone intruder below.

With a thunderous voice that echoed across the fortress, he barked:

"Who the hell are you, bastard?! How dare you step foot here? Drop your weapon and raise your hands—maybe then, we’ll let you die with a whole body—!"

Reon, standing calmly about a fifty meters away from the gate amidst a sea of pointed arrows, didn’t flinch.

He slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes gleaming with disdain.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you coconut-headed clown," he said with a chilling calm.

"Open the gate. Or I’ll pulverize it."

A sharp, stunned silence followed.

"C-Coconut... head?" the Gang Leader echoed blankly, as if struck by lightning.

Then—

"Pfft—Hahahaha!"

One of the archer bandits burst out laughing. "He’s right, Boss! Your head really does look like a coconut!"

The Gang Leader’s face turned crimson in anger.

Smack!

Kin Tin’s fist slammed into the back of the archer’s skull, silencing him instantly.

"Eyes on the enemy, not your jokes," Kin Tin growled, though his lips twitched, barely holding back a grin.

"Y-Yes, Brother Kin!" the archer yelped, straightening up like a frightened dog.

The Gang Leader’s fury boiled over. His veins bulged, face contorted in rage, and he slammed the hilt of his cleaver against the wall with a metallic clang that rang like a war drum.

"This insolent scum dares to mock me?! I’ll tear his goddamn tongue out and feed it to the hounds!"

With a savage glare, he thrust his arm into the air.

"Archers—FIRE! Let’s turn this arrogant bastard into a pincushion!"

SWOOSH!

SWOOSH!

At the Gang Leader’s signal, a storm of arrows surged into the sky—dozens upon dozens loosed from bows and crossbows.

Some of the projectiles shimmered faintly—coated in Spiritual Qi, sharpened beyond steel and hardened to pierce even a cultivator’s body.

"Hah! That bastard’s done for!" one archer jeered from the left wall.

"No one can survive that many arrows—not even a C-Rank adventurer!" another chimed in.

Laughter echoed across the ramparts.

"He came alone to challenge over fifty archers? Plus another hundred swordsmen and spearmen inside? This moron literally walked into his own grave!"

Yet below them, Reon stood still—calm as moonlight, hands relaxed at his sides.

’Fools... do they really think mere arrows can harm a cultivator who’s awakened his Sword Aura?’ he thought coldly.

But as his eyes lifted toward the sky, they narrowed.

’Hmm? Some of these arrows... carry Spiritual Qi? That could actually be troublesome.’

Then, a slow smirk spread across his lips.

"Fine. Let’s try something new."

He raised both of his hands and whispered:

"Shadow Thread!"

WHOOSH!

From each fingertip of his gloves, dozens of ultra-thin, pitch-black threads emerged—so fine they were nearly invisible under daylight.

’Let’s push the limit this time.’

More threads unraveled like strands of shadowy silk, coiling and weaving upward.

’Now... let’s see what happens when I channel more Spiritual Qi through them this time.’

A faint blue glow flickered across the threads like lightning dancing along a wire. They whipped upward, slicing through the air with eerie grace.

’Just imagine... that each thread is a sword.’

Closing his eyes, he focused deeply, attempting to compress his Spiritual Qi even further—trying, for the first time, to infuse Aura into each individual thread.

High above, the bandits sneered.

"Hah! Look at him!" one laughed. "He’s closed his eyes. Has he accepted death already?"

"Maybe he came here to commit suicide and just wanted a dramatic exit!" another mocked.

And then—

RAIN.

WHOOSH!

WHOOSH!

The arrows rained down like splattering rice grains, momentarily blotting out the sun.

Reon’s eyes snapped open.

’Tch... not yet. I couldn’t convert it into Aura in time. There are too many threads, and my focus isn’t sharp enough. I’ll have to test it again later.’

But even without Aura—

The moment the arrows entered range, his hands moved with blinding speed.

WHOOSH!

SLASH!

The shadow threads danced, fluid yet razor-sharp. Ordinary arrows cracked, splintered, and fell to the earth like broken twigs.

One after another shattered midair as if struck by an invisible blade.

"H-Huh?!" the Gang Leader’s eyes widened. "Why are the arrows breaking?! What the hell is going on?!"

The archers panicked—because to them, there was nothing. They saw no threads, no aura—just their arrows crumbling inexplicably.

Worse still—

Some of the Spiritual Qi-infused arrows froze in midair—caught by multiple threads, suspended like insects in a web.

"T-The arrows... they’re just hanging there?" one archer trembled. "Is this... sorcery?"

"Ghosts! This has to be the work of ghosts!" another cried.

"Shut up, all of you!" the Gang Leader roared, trying to quell the fear rising among his men. "It’s just some kind of illusion or trick! Don’t stop! Keep firing!"

"Yes, Boss!" the archers shouted in unison, gripping their bows tighter——but their aim faltered, and the fear of the unknown began to eat into their morale.

Below the wall, Reon’s smirk deepened. A dangerous glint flickered in his eye. freeweɓnovel~cѳm

"Let’s see how long you can keep up..." he muttered.

Above, the archers doubled down—arrows rained like a monsoon storm, their numbers now in the hundreds.

Crossbows twanged, bowstrings snapped taut, and deadly bolts screamed through the air.

But Reon was already in motion.

His arms blurred—a blur of shadows and precision. The black threads wove through the sky like living serpents, slicing through incoming arrows in rapid, fluid arcs.

Crack!

Slash!

Swoosh!

Each thread danced under his command, deflecting, destroying—and now, redirecting.

With a flick of his hand, Reon caught the Spiritual Qi–imbued arrows midair, reversed their trajectory, and launched them back at the very archers who’d fired them.

SWOOSH!

THWACK!

BANG!

One after another, archers dropped like felled birds, their heads bursting like overripe fruit.

"AHHH!"

"AGHHHHH!!"

THUD!

THUD!

Screams echoed as bodies tumbled from the high walls to the ground below, blood painting the stone red.

Panic spread like wildfire.

"W-What’s happening, Gang Leader?!" Kin Tin shouted, trembling as another body dropped beside him. "Why are our own arrows coming back at us?!"

The Gang Leader grit his teeth, eyes narrowed at the figure standing calmly below amidst the chaos.

"Don’t panic!" he barked. "He can’t keep it up forever. Even if he gets through the gate, there are still hundreds of us inside. We outnumber him by too much!"

But his voice couldn’t mask the tremor of unease.

Above them, the archers’ momentum shattered—along with their composure. They couldn’t understand how their attacks were turning against them.

Couldn’t see the shadow threads that twisted in the air like the devil’s own puppeteer.

Meanwhile, Reon’s figure stood motionless—serene in the eye of the storm, as if merely testing his strength.

Then his voice cut through the chaos, calm and cold.

"Let’s get serious now."

The sourc𝗲 of this content is free(w)𝒆bnov(𝒆)l