It started when a bloody rain was about to fall.

"The intensity of the life domain is 37%, and the energy conversion rate decreases by 0.4 per minute."

At the same time, a sound rang out, hoarse like sandpaper rubbing against metal, or like rusty gears being forced to turn.

Each syllable carries a metallic chill, like a pronouncement from the abyss.

As the voices spoke, a figure emerged from the shadows of the ruins. The figure was thin as a blade, wearing a tattered dark gray cloak with charred holes burned into the edges by energy.

Beneath the cloak was a face with sharp, angular features, and skin that was an unhealthy grayish-white, like a specimen that had been soaked in formaldehyde for a long time.

What's most striking is his eyes; his left eye is covered by a tactical goggle, and green data streams pour out like a waterfall.

The right pupil was an eerie dark purple, with faint, fine runes slowly rotating on the iris, as if the depths of the pupil were connected to a collapsing void.

Rot Wolf – Commander of the 7th Battalion of the Ash Hunting Group, known for his ruthless tactics.

Behind him, in every crack and crumbling wall of the ruins, figures emerged silently like a tide.

More than a hundred people, arranged in a fan-shaped formation, completely blocked the exit of the ruins.

They wore identical dark, tattered combat suits, with the Ash Hunting Corps insignia on their chests—a bone claw emerging from the flames, gleaming coldly in the crimson sky.

Some of them had arms that had mutated into twisted bone blades, some were surrounded by unstable energy glow, and some had dark lines on their faces left by the erosion of supernatural abilities, like cracked earth...

No one speaks.

The only sounds were the wind and sand striking the metal armor, the faint crackling in the air as superpowers gathered, and over a hundred pairs of eyes—some scarlet, some pale, some burning with cold flames—all locked onto the same target: Ye Qingrou.

The oppressive feeling was like a mountain collapsing, like an impending tsunami, like the silence before a death sentence.

At this moment, the rotten wolf was surrounded by a dark purple aura of annihilation, and even the light in its path was distorted and collapsed.

It was as if the air around the rotten wolf itself was filled with fear, fleeing, and turning into nothingness, as if he himself were the embodiment of death, the messenger of the apocalypse.

This is the Corrupted Wolf's special ability, "Annihilation Mark".

It can leave a mark on the target that continuously erodes their life force, but it requires close contact to activate.

The rotten wolf is waiting for that opportunity.

"At your command!"

The rotten wolf raised its right hand.

With fingers spread out, each fingertip pulses with a different colored energy glow.

That meant he had to monitor the real-time status of five attack teams simultaneously; he was the commander's eyes and ears on the battlefield.

"The first group of 'Bone-Eating Poison Ivy' seals off the ground—its roots extend thirty meters underground to prevent her from transferring energy through the earth's veins."

The second group of "resonance bone fractures" disrupts the field structure—the frequency increases by three kilohertz per minute until a resonance point is found.

The third set of "Frosty Sighs" dropped to the absolute zero threshold—not to attack her, but to freeze the air molecules around her, preventing her from converting energy through thermal motion.

Then the rotten wolf paused for a second, and a new set of data flashed on the tactical visor. The numbers were jumping, screaming, and urging the killing to come.

"Five seconds later, the fourth set of gravity suppression was activated—applying pressure simultaneously from six dimensions."

Front and back, left and right, up and down—it's not a simple gravitational field, but a distortion of the curvature of space.

The fifth group of "Blazing Fire Wheels" fired simultaneously—eighteen fire wheels, six in a group, alternating among the three groups.

The first group attacks the front, the second group attacks the rear, and the third group stands by to cover.

A cold smile appeared on the corner of the rotten wolf's mouth, the smile of a hunter seeing his prey fall into a trap.

"Remember, her abilities are a trinity: offense, defense, and healing can be transformed into one another."

Our goal is to prevent the conversion rate from keeping up with the consumption, creating a new attack the instant she converts one type of energy into another, thus keeping her in a perpetual state of conversion delay.

"Group One, understand!"

"Second group, understand!"

"Group Three understands!"

"Group Four understands!"

"Group Five understands!"

As soon as the Rotten Wolf finished speaking, figures flashed out from among the hundred or so people, forming five attack groups not far in front of him. They responded in turn, like the Grim Reaper counting his scythes, each scythe reaping a life, each drop of blood watering this already dead land.

The symphony of death began to roar.

The first group of three attackers crouched down simultaneously, their hands embedded in the scorched earth.

The action was not a simple touch, but some kind of ancient sacrificial ritual—the arm instantly turned to wood, revealing twisted, dark green patterns.

The three attackers were burly, with muscles that bulged like the roots of an old tree, and skin covered with cracked, bark-like textures.

Their eyes had no pupils, only turbid, dark green pus churning within them, and thick fluid constantly seeped from the edges of their eye sockets, corroding sizzling pits as it dripped onto the ground.

At the same time, countless scarlet eyes opened from within the green veins, each eye turning, searching, and greedily gazing at the distant emerald light.

The light was so pure, so warm, and so full of life that it made them instinctively want to destroy, pollute, and devour it.

At the same time, the earthquake tremors were not ordinary earthquakes, but spasms of the earth's veins themselves.

Then countless poison ivy vines, as thick as bowls, burst forth from the ground, their surfaces covered with suckers oozing purplish-black sap.

The suction cups sprayed corrosive toxic mist as they opened and closed, and wherever the mist passed, even the concrete made a "sizzling" sound as if it were being digested.

It melted into a bubbling black liquid, which flowed, spread, and dragged everything into an abyss of decay.

The next moment, the poison vine, like a giant living python, spread along the bottom of the emerald light curtain.

Furthermore, the vines are topped with menacing flower buds, which reveal layers of sharp teeth when they bloom.

Those sharp teeth were grinding and gnawing, trying to erode the territory from the foundation and tear a hole leading to the interior.

Seeing this, Ye Qingrou lightly stomped her left foot on the ground.

The movement was as gentle as a dancer's spin on stage, yet it triggered a war in the microscopic world.

A circle of emerald ripples spread out from the toes of her feet.

Wherever the ripples reached, the flow of time seemed to change, and then the poison ivy began to grow in reverse.

That's not just simple withering, but a regression as if time has reversed:

The murky, dark green fades, turning into a healthy, verdant green; the menacing, sharp teeth fall out, shrinking back into soft, tender buds.

The suction cups shrank and disappeared, and a pure white flower bloomed from the tip. Dewdrops rolled on the petals, and those dewdrops were crystal clear, like the tears of a newborn.

The fragrance of the flowers is refreshing, like the first breeze of early spring, instantly neutralizing the toxic smog in the air.

The poisonous fog was broken down into harmless water vapor by the fragrance of flowers, rising up and forming a brief rainbow under the purplish-red sky.

Although the rainbow only lasted for three seconds, it was so beautiful that it made people forget that this was a battlefield, a hell, and the end of the world.

At this moment, fine beads of sweat appeared on Ye Qingrou's forehead, glistening like morning dew on her jade-like skin.

Those beads of sweat weren't ordinary water droplets, but rather the body's instinctive cooling response when overloaded with energy.

Each drop carried a faint emerald glow, making a soft "hiss" as it fell to the ground, scalding small pits into the scorched earth—proof that she was burning her life force.

Not to be outdone, the Poison Ivy group simultaneously bit their tongues, spitting out a mist of dark green blood.

The blood mist merged into the poison vine, causing the vine to instantly grow three times its original thickness. More scarlet eyes opened on its surface, and those eyes began to reflect distorted emerald images, mimicking and analyzing Ye Qingrou's life energy frequency.

"We've found the resonance point!" the leader roared, his voice filled with excited trembling.

The poison ivy's suckers began to pulsate in sync with the frequency of the emerald light curtain. Then, instead of forcibly breaking through, they tried to "integrate" into the field, like a virus disguising itself as a normal cell.

Ye Qingrou frowned slightly and lightly touched the ground with her toes again.

This time, the ripples are no longer simply a reverse growth, but rather have been accompanied by "time wrinkles".

Poison ivy is repeatedly pulled between degeneration and evolution, its dark green and verdant hues shimmering alternately, its ferocity and gentleness cycling back and forth.

The vine's own timeline was disrupted, and its cells began to malfunction:

Some parts grow in reverse, while others evolve wildly. Flowers and sharp teeth bloom simultaneously on the same vine, creating a bizarre tapestry where beauty and ugliness, life and death intertwine.

Ultimately, Poison Ivy collapsed due to this time paradox, cracking at the molecular level and turning into a cloud of dark green dust.

But the dust did not dissipate; instead, it reformed in the air, transforming into three enormous wooden spears, their tips burning with purplish-black flames, which simultaneously pierced the core of the domain from three directions!

"Resonance-induced bone fracture, activation initiated!"

Just then, the voice of the Rotten Wolf rang out, and the second group of two people were seen floating in mid-air, not flying, but floating in a way that defied the laws of gravity.

The two men were so slender that they didn't look like adult men. Their skin was translucent, and you could vaguely see the writhing muscle fibers and pulsating blood vessels underneath.

Their bones appear to have several more joints than normal, their arms and fingers are bent in ways that defy human anatomy, and their bodies are surrounded by visual distortions caused by distorted force fields.

They were surrounded by a distorted force field that bent even the light.

At the same time, his hands were loosely clenched as if drawing an invisible bowstring, the movement slow and solemn, as if playing a melody that only the gods could hear.

Invisible resonant waves are released!

That is not sound, but vibrational frequency that directly affects the molecular structure of matter; it is the primordial sound that existed since the beginning of the universe.