High Martial Arts: From Mechanic to Sword Immortal

Chapter 89 The Isolated Island! The Crimson Altar Activated

In a deep mountain valley 15 kilometers away.

Before the simple, rubble-strewn altar, the old man walked unsteadily up the stone steps.

His withered hands gripped the white bone staff, which was pieced together from the leg bones of humans and demonic beasts.

Reaching the stone sculpture array in the center of the altar, the old man raised his wrist and forcefully slashed the tip of his bone staff against a vein.

Thick, dark blood dripped down his wrist. The moment the blood touched the array's core, all the dark red patterns carved on the altar's surface lit up simultaneously.

An extremely evil and icy aura surged into the sky.

This energy, imbued with intense malice, rapidly spread towards Golden Harvest Farm along the earth's deep ley lines.

The main battlefield on the west side of the farm.

Nearly ten thousand monster corpses, torn apart by heavy firepower, were piled up on the plain, their stench of blood completely soaking the soil.

At the very second that the old man activated the altar with his blood, a strange change occurred on the battlefield.

From the mound of mangled flesh, wisps of dark red mist rose without warning.

These mists expanded extremely quickly, and within a few breaths they coalesced into a rolling red sea of ​​clouds, completely engulfing the mountains of corpses and seas of blood on the plains, and heading straight for the alloy defenses of the ranch owner's fortress.

The defensive positions on the city wall were the first to be affected.

A retired veteran inside an exoskeleton armor is preparing to change the magazine of his psionic rifle.

A dark red mist drifted past the bunker, and the veteran suddenly stopped moving.

He roughly ripped open the heavy collar, gasping for breath, his eyes quickly turning a frightening red.

A surge of violent, uncontrollable killing intent rushed to his head.

Not only him, but dozens of guards on the defensive line also experienced dizziness and irritability. Some even turned their guns on their comrades.

"All of you, calm down!"

Captain Wang Defa noticed the abnormality and instantly pushed his cultivation level, which was at the early stage of the Awakening Realm, to its limit.

The true energy of the Thick Earth and Rock Technique flowed into his throat, and a loud shout resounded on the city wall.

This shout, imbued with powerful earth-elemental true energy, caused the ears of the frenzied guards around to ring, and the bloodshot in their eyes to subside slightly.

But the troubles outside the city walls are even greater.

After inhaling the blood mist, the low-level cannon fodder monsters, who were already dizzy and disoriented, underwent extremely terrifying mutations.

The shriveled muscles swelled up, and strange, purplish-black flesh buds gushed out from the torn wound, filling the bullet hole completely.

The surface of these monsters was covered with dense, blood-red patterns, and their aura surged by at least 30% in an instant.

The berserk beasts had completely lost their sense of pain. They charged forward with extreme savagery, braving the dense barrage of bullets.

When a 20mm armor-piercing round hits their swollen muscles, it only splatters a few purplish-red bloodstains, far from being a fatal blow.

The pressure on the defensive line increased exponentially in an instant.

At the forefront of the main battlefield, Lei Zhen sat in the cockpit of the "Black Bear" battle suit.

The previously clear tactical display on the main screen suddenly became violently distorted, with large amounts of static covering all the data.

The infrared imaging module was severely interfered with by high-dimensional energy, resulting in a screen full of ghosting and garbled text, and the psionic radar was completely paralyzed.

Lei Zhen cut off the power to the electronic screen and looked out through the thick, bulletproof glass.

The concentration of the blood mist was astonishing, reducing visibility to less than fifty meters.

In this environment, the fire control and target acquisition system that the heavy mechs were so proud of became blind.

Without any hesitation, Lei Zhen pressed the highest-level full-frequency communication button.

"All units of the Ironclad Battalion, listen up! Something's wrong!"

Front-line swordsmen and shield bearers hold up their shields, rear-line firepower provides suppression, and the entire army provides alternating cover!

Lei Zhen roared, "Everyone retreat! Retreat to the main castle's defensive perimeter! Absolutely no lingering!"

At the same time, inside the main control tower.

Deputy Director Zhou Ping was sweating profusely with anxiety.

He frantically typed on the console, trying to switch all the communication channels.

"Minefield Chief! Please respond! What's the situation with the main fortress defenses?"

"Captain Zhang Hao! Can the flight formation hear me?"

Zhou Ping ripped off his headphones and slammed them heavily onto the control panel.

All radio channels were completely blocked by unknown energy, and there was nothing but piercing electromagnetic noise.

Undeterred, he activated the high-power quantum-encrypted frequency band connecting to the Donghai City military headquarters, but still received no response.

These evil followers of the Blood Feeding Cult used this cloud of blood mist to cut off all external communication.

Golden Harvest Farm has become an information island.

One thousand meters above the farm.

Han Feng tapped his flight helmet; the dial tone on the communication channel stung his eardrums.

He looked down and saw that the entire Golden Harvest Farm was covered by a layer of murky, dark red mist, making it impossible to see the outlines of the buildings on the ground.

Han Feng immediately activated [Spiritual Vision].

The physical barriers were stripped away, but in the vision of the psychic, the energy lines below were more chaotic than ever before.

Blood mist itself is a highly polluting, high-density energy body.

Before he could carefully search for the location of the ley line nodes, more than a dozen high-energy red dots were moving rapidly in the soil around the living area.

Those are second-order tunnel worms.

These things became intelligent; they drilled a hole from the ground, sprayed high-pressure acid at the building, and then immediately retreated back into the ground.

They will not linger; they will quickly change positions to launch the next attack.

Han Feng pushed down the throttle valve, lowering the flight altitude, and the 30mm cannon began to spew fire wildly.

He served as a mobile artillery platform high in the sky. With the help of his [Spiritual Vision], he could always deliver armor-piercing incendiary bombs into the wide-open mouths of the worms the moment they broke through the soil.

After five consecutive extreme changes of direction, the five worms were blown to pieces inside the tunnel.

The cannon barrel had turned a dangerous dark red due to the intense, continuous firing.

"Click".

A sharp sound came from the pod under the fuselage.

That was the sound of the machine spinning aimlessly as the ammunition belt completely emptied. Han Feng glanced at the fuel gauge; the red light was flashing.

With his last ammunition supply exhausted, he had to land immediately for resupply.

Otherwise, even if it wasn't shot down by the monsters, it would have crashed due to loss of power.

Han Feng pulled the control stick, and the massive gray donkey drew an arc in the air as it swooped down toward Helipad No. 7.

Next to the runway on the tarmac.

Zhang Hao and Wang Meng were jumping up and down anxiously, staring at the sky. Just three minutes earlier, a burly man covered in purplish-black armor had burst out from the ground behind them.

The opponent didn't engage in combat at all, instead crashing through the load-bearing wall in the middle of the runway at full speed and escaping.

The violent impact of the man's escape left a new crack seven or eight meters wide on the runway.

The original track, which was broken due to the attack of the demonic insects and was only 120 meters long, is now less than 80 meters long.

The heavily armed fighter jet descended at high speed, with a braking distance of eighty meters, which was not even enough to slow it down by deploying its parachute.

"Don't get off! The track is broken! You can't stop!"

Wang Meng screamed wildly, waving his hands in a frantic, crossed motion above his head, trying to signal the fighter jets in the sky to cancel their landing.

Zhang Hao drew a large-caliber pistol and fired three warning shots into the sky.

But the gunshot was immediately swallowed up by the continuous artillery fire and the roar of the old reactor in the gray donkey.

The grey donkey's landing gear slammed heavily onto the damaged runway.

The immense gravity, combined with the inertia of the descent, caused the tires to rub against the concrete surface, producing thick white smoke.

Just as Han Feng's hands touched the mechanical brake valve, a blinding fault line instantly popped up in his [Spiritual Vision] field of vision.

A few dozen meters ahead, a new, bottomless crack suddenly appeared.

The gliding distance is eighty meters.

It weighs over ten tons.

Even if the brake pads are slammed into the ground and catch fire, the fighter jet will definitely plunge into that ditch.

Han Feng's pupils contracted. In that fraction of a second between life and death, he didn't pull the ejection pin.

At this moment, all the blood and qi of the late-stage eighth level of Body Tempering erupted without reservation, surging into the core of the fighter jet like a raging dragon through the nerve interface at the back of the neck.

The mastery level of "Sword Control Technique" was pushed to its limit.

Instead of retreating, he advanced and forcibly severed the access to the mechanical braking system.

The surging energy and blood transformed into countless invisible steel cables, tightly gripping every load-bearing component of the fuselage.

Han Feng gripped the control stick tightly with both hands and slammed his foot down on the rudder.

The fighter jet skided violently during high-speed taxiing.

The massive fuselage twisted wildly on a concrete road less than eighty meters long.

The physical limits of the struggle between qi and blood and the machinery created an exaggerated S-shaped trajectory. The edge of the wing swept across the ground almost touching it.

The rubber on the tire surface melted in large patches under extreme friction, and the alloy wheels of the landing gear collided with the gravel, bursting into large, dazzling sparks.

The ear-piercing sound of metal scraping against metal echoed across the entire tarmac, drowning out the distant artillery fire.

The fighter jet's nose suddenly dipped downwards, the thick hydraulic shock absorber was pressed to its lowest point, and the entire aircraft shook violently a few times.

Ultimately, it came to a complete standstill.

The strong winds whipped up dust and smoke from the ground.

Han Feng sat in the cockpit, panting heavily.

He looked up and saw that the 30mm cannon barrel at the very front of the nose, still emitting blue smoke, was less than five meters away from the edge of the wide and deep crack.