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Although he was filled with curiosity about Yang Yi's ultimate goal.

But based on the absolute trust built up over this period of time, and the barely suppressed anticipation of the upcoming "big event".

Zhang Chulan, Wang Ye, and the others did not ask any further questions.

They exchanged a glance, their eyes revealing the same resolute determination and an irrepressible fighting spirit.

next moment.

Zhang Chulan and his companions were surrounded by bursts of lightning, transforming into a blinding bolt of thunder that tore through the air and hurtled towards a military outpost with its warning lights flashing below the mountain.

Wang Ye's figure quietly blended into the shadows, silently slipping away in another direction.

The remaining strong magnetic fields also transformed into streams of light and merged into the earth, or stirred up strong winds and dispersed.

Like a pack of wild beasts released from their cages, they joined the wave of revenge sweeping across Japan.

The lightning bolts that Zhang Chulan transformed into were like the scythe of death.

He sped past Japanese military installations.

Wherever it passed, thunder and lightning roared, and a series of explosions rose and fell. Solid fortifications were torn apart like paper, and advanced weapons and equipment melted and vaporized under the violent electric current.

Wang Ye's style appears more "freehand".

He walked through the chaotic town, his fingers occasionally tapping lightly.

An invisible Qimen Dunjia formation was quietly set up, stirring up the restless geomagnetic forces beneath this land.

Those Japanese Self-Defense Forces that attempted to gather and organize resistance were often crushed and kneaded by the distorted geomagnetic force before they could even see the enemy clearly, turning themselves, along with their tanks and armored vehicles, into piles of irregular scrap metal.

Other individuals with strong magnetic fields displayed their unique abilities.

Together with the endless, roaring tide of souls, they acted like the most efficient killing machines, rapidly disintegrating the remaining armed forces of Japan.

While chasing a small group of fleeing Japanese soldiers, Wang accidentally stumbled into an ordinary middle school.

The school building was damaged in the previous chaos, but the main structure is still intact.

He stopped and sensed his surroundings, but found no trace of the deserters.

Just as I was about to leave, a group of young children ran out of a classroom.

They saw Wang Ye.

Wang casually asked if he had seen several people in military uniforms run past.

Some children, after seeing his clothes and hearing his words, keenly recognized that he was Chinese.

Then I saw them display a crazy expression that was completely out of character for their age, as if they had been thoroughly brainwashed by some ideology.

They pointed at Wang Ye and shouted, "This is a Chinese pig!"

"Kill all the Chinese pigs!" a boy who looked only seven or eight years old shouted hoarsely with all his might.

"His Majesty the Emperor will live forever!"

"Building a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere!"

More children joined in the screaming, their voices childish yet their words utterly vicious.

They even picked up stones and sticks from the ground and threw them at Wang Ye.

Those faces, which should have been innocent, were now filled with hatred and madness.

This scene deeply affected Wang Ye.

In his eyes, the last trace of pity and hesitation for the so-called "innocent" had completely vanished.

Instead, there was an unprecedented chilling killing intent.

"Even the children have turned out like this."

His voice was soft, carrying an indescribable sorrow, and even more so, a complete and resolute determination.

"As expected, this country is rotten to the core. Let's clean it up."

He no longer held back.

An invisible magnetic field swept across gently.

The fervent expressions on the children's faces froze instantly.

The next moment, their bodies, along with the malicious thoughts they had been indoctrinated with, turned to ashes and vanished into the air.

The entire process was completely silent.

The light screen transmitted all of this to the world with unparalleled clarity.

Around the world, countless people who witnessed this scene fell silent, but few spoke out for these children.

Some world leaders, looking at the fervent children in the images and reflecting on Japan's long history of militaristic education, felt a chill run down their spines.

This practice of poisoning the next generation at its root is even more terrifying than the direct destruction caused by a strong magnetic field.

Fear of the Magnetic Field Sect, and reflection and vigilance against Japanese militarism, have spread globally.

Japan itself was plunged into unprecedented panic and chaos.

The city is burning, and order is collapsing.

Countless people prayed to the gods in despair, or cursed those "demons" madly.

But no matter what they did, they could not stop the advance of the soul tide, nor could they stop the footsteps of those with strong magnetic fields.

Unlike the swift and decisive physical destruction caused by those with strong magnetic fields.

The way these heroes sought revenge leaned more towards a cruel form of mental torture.

They constantly move between cities and villages, inside and outside houses.

He passed through the bodies of the Japanese soldiers time and time again, not to kill them immediately, but to let them experience the deepest fear and feel the endless resentment of the dead.

The Japanese soldiers who are repeatedly traversed by the ghostly shadows will gradually break down in their minds under extreme terror, and eventually die in madness or exhaustion.

Veterans who participated in the invasion of China, or war criminals with blood on their hands, received special attention from the spirits of the fallen heroes.

Countless gruesome deaths were broadcast across the world through the light screen, sending chills down people's spines.

The Emperor's Banner, suspended above Mount Fuji, shone with an increasingly eerie and intense golden-red light as the revenge progressed, as if it were celebrating the fear and despair of its enemies.

Time passed swiftly amidst the killing and destruction.

The day is almost over.

The members of the Magnetic Field Sect, scattered throughout Japan, clearly sensed that the time was approaching.

They kept Yang Yi's orders in mind and began to consciously move towards the edge of the Japanese archipelago.

Along the way, they did not stop "purifying" and continued to eliminate all the Japanese soldiers they encountered.

At the summit of Mount Fuji, Yang Yi's figure still stands on the edge of the crater.

The Emperor's Banner in his hand fluttered in the gale, its surface radiating an intense, dazzling light.

It seems that a terrifying energy, far exceeding anything seen before, is quietly accumulating around Mount Fuji.

It was as if something devastating was about to descend.

(I'm exhausted today, I'm out of drafts, so I'll just post one chapter for now)

Chapter 221 Xingyi: Great Sun Nuclear Explosion Fist

A day's time passes in the blink of an eye.

At the summit of Mount Fuji, Yang Yi's divine sense, like an invisible tide, instantly covered every inch of the entire Japanese archipelago.

He clearly sensed that Zhang Chulan was currently standing idly on a boulder on the northernmost coastline of Japan.

Wang Ye's figure appeared in a cave in southern Japan, leisurely brewing a pot of coarse tea, seemingly waiting for something.

The rest of the Magnetic Field Sect members also followed the previous instructions and arrived at the edge of the Japanese archipelago, far away from the central area.

They have all been safely evacuated.

Yang Yi nodded slightly, then stood up and stood on the edge of the crater. His clothes fluttered in the wind, but his figure was as steady as an ancient rock.

With his back to the sky, he gently raised his hand, making a beckoning gesture.

The Emperor's Banner, suspended high in the clouds and interwoven with endless blood-red light and dazzling golden light, suddenly trembled violently.

The countless souls on the banner seemed to have received some kind of decree.

The millions of heroic souls scattered throughout the ruins of cities, the scorched earth of villages, and the mountains and rivers of the Japanese archipelago, upon receiving this call, all ceased their pursuit of the remaining Japanese invaders.

They looked up and let out a series of complex roars, filled with both joy and reluctance.

Immediately, these souls, each with its own unique form and overflowing with resentment, transformed into a large amount of golden and blood-red light.

Streaks of light, accompanied by sharp whistling sounds, flew from all directions of Japan towards Mount Fuji.

They flew back into the Emperor Banner above Mount Fuji, carrying with them a larger and purer amount of resentment and fear that they had absorbed in a day and a night.

After absorbing this purer energy, the golden-red light on the Emperor Banner suddenly surged, almost solidifying into a tangible form.

The blood-red patterns on the flag were even deeper, as if they were flowing with real blood.

The golden runes shone even brighter, radiating a breathtaking sense of holiness and majesty.

At the foot of Mount Fuji, and the surrounding areas that have been repeatedly ravaged by the tide of souls and turned into ruins.

Some Japanese civilians and remnants who had survived the rampage of the soul tide huddled behind the ruins, trembling with fear.

When they were horrified to discover that the terrifying ghostly figures that had previously blotted out the sky and relentlessly pursued souls were now retreating into the sky like a tide, they were initially stunned with disbelief.

Immediately afterwards, a surge of ecstatic joy at surviving a catastrophe erupted from the depths of their twisted hearts.

"They've retreated! They've retreated!"

A Japanese soldier, his face covered in soot and his uniform tattered, pointed at the sky and screamed in a hoarse voice.

An old man with disheveled hair and robes stained with unknown filth, who called himself a senior Onmyoji, shakily crawled out from a pile of rubble.

He strained his almost broken body and pointed with his withered fingers, trembling, at Yang Yi's blurry figure atop Mount Fuji.

With all his might, he spoke in a hoarse voice to the equally terrified survivors around him: