The whole nation is trying to survive on the cable car; I'm choosing one of three options at ea

The Minotaur King's fist is coming again.

A fist slammed into Zhao Derong's shoulder, tearing a piece of his grayish-black skin to reveal the bright red, bleeding flesh beneath. Zhao Derong's body flew through the air again, crashing into a tree, sliding down, and kneeling on the ground, his hands bracing himself against the earth. Blood gushed from the wound on his shoulder, dripping onto the fallen leaves and staining them dark red.

Fang Lin rushed forward, blocking Zhao Derong's path. She had run out of arrows; she drew her short sword from her waist, gripped the hilt with both hands, and aimed the blade forward at the legs of the Minotaur King, Sauta. Her body trembled, but she did not retreat.

"Get away." Zhao Derong's voice came from behind her, hoarse, low, but steady.

Fang Lin did not move.

"Get out of the way!" Zhao Derong roared, his voice so loud that the leaves of the surrounding trees vibrated.

Fang Lin's body trembled slightly, and then she stepped back.

Zhao Derong stood up from the ground. Blood was still seeping from the wound on his shoulder, and the cracks on his arm were widening. Patches of grayish-black skin were peeling off, like an old wall that was crumbling.

He could no longer lift his right hand, so he picked up the hammer with his left. The hammer's handle was bent, making it very unsteady in his hand. But he held it and walked towards King Sauta.

His teammate Liu Yang pulled him back. "Captain, you can't fight anymore..."

Zhao Derong shook off his hand.

He walked slowly, each step leaving a bloody footprint on the fallen leaves. He reached the Minotaur King Sauta, looked up, and stared into those blood-red eyes.

The Minotaur King Sauta also looked at him, his eyes devoid of mockery or contempt, holding a purer, more serious gaze, as if he were looking at a worthy opponent. He raised his battle axe, and Zhao Derong raised his iron hammer as well.

Then, Zhao Derong's hammer slipped from his hand.

It wasn't that he let go; his fingers simply couldn't hold on any longer. The hammer struck the ground, rolled, and came to rest in a pile of fallen leaves. Zhao Derong's knees buckled, and he knelt on the ground before collapsing to the ground.

His body crashed onto the fallen leaves, sending a spray of dead leaves flying. His eyes were closed, his lips were purple, and his breathing was weak. On his chest, a large patch of grayish-black skin had been torn away, revealing pale, blood-soaked muscle beneath. Several cracks ran along the muscle, their edges blackened, the white beneath appearing almost like bone.

"Captain!!" Liu Yang and Fang Lin rushed forward at the same time. Liu Yang picked Zhao Derong up from the ground, while Fang Lin stood in front of them, her short sword pointing forward at the Minotaur King Sauta.

Sauta, the Minotaur, did not give chase.

It stood still, watching Liu Yang carry Zhao Derong away, watching Fang Lin retreat with her short knife in hand. Then it turned its head, its blood-red eyes scanning the battlefield, searching for its next target.

Lin Yuwei ran over from the inside of the defensive line. She squatted down next to Zhao Derong and glanced at his wound. Her brow furrowed slightly...

The injury was severe.

Beneath his grayish-black skin, the muscles were smashed to pieces, so rotten it looked as if something had exploded them from the inside; the muscle fibers were broken, curled, and blackened. Blood gushed from the wounds—not just flowed, but gushed, like someone had turned on a tap on his chest. Lin Yuwei rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a small bottle of recovery potion, pried open Zhao Derong's mouth, and poured it in.

The medicine flowed down his throat; he swallowed it after a slight movement. The medicine took effect, but very slowly. His grayish-black skin began to heal, but the healing process was several times slower than a normal wound. It wasn't that the medicine was ineffective; it was that Zhao Derong's innate talent was rejecting its effects... Petrification had turned his skin into rock, and the healing process of rock was different from that of flesh. The energy of the medicine was running rampant within him, unable to find an outlet. Lin Yuwei took out another bottle of medicine and poured it down his throat.

This time the medicine took effect faster. Fine cracks appeared on the grayish-black skin, and new pink granulation tissue began to grow from the edges of the cracks, forming a stark contrast with the grayish-black skin.

Zhao Derong's face changed from ashen to pale, then from pale to ashen. His breathing became steady, and his lips were no longer purple, but he was still unconscious.

Lin Yuwei stuffed the empty bottle back into her backpack, stood up, and looked at Zhao Derong's face. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she said nothing. She turned and walked towards the next wounded soldier.

Lin Xiaohe moved around at the feet of the Minotaur King Sauta.

Her dagger pierced King Sauta's leg, the tip sliding away without leaving a single white mark. Her fiery fist slammed into King Sauta's leg, the flames burning briefly on his greyish-black skin before extinguishing, leaving not even a scorch mark.

King Sauta of the Minotaur didn't even sense her presence.

Its paw stomped down, sending Lin Xiaohe rolling on the ground. The paw grazed her back as it struck the ground, creating a crater and splattering her with gravel and dirt. She got up, dusted herself off, and thrust her dagger at the Minotaur King Sauta's leg once more.

The blade slipped away again. She gritted her teeth and slammed her fiery fist down once more. The flames flickered briefly before extinguishing again.

The Minotaur King Sauta's fist came crashing down.

Lin Xiaohe's body rolled on the ground, a fist grazed her shoulder and slammed into the ground, creating a crater. She was thrown away by the shockwave, crashed into a tree, slid down, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

She still held her dagger in her hand, the blade stained with her blood. She got up from the ground, wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, and charged at King Sauta again.

Su Mu leaned against the trunk of a large tree, arms crossed, watching the battlefield. His expression was as calm as a stagnant pool, but his eyes glowed faintly in the darkness... not golden, but a darker light, as if ignited by something, ready to burst into flame at any moment.

The spear leaned against the tree trunk beside him, its tip embedded in the fallen leaves, not yet pulled out.

He didn't move. Lin Xiaohe was fighting desperately, Lin Yuwei was saving people, Zhao Derong had fallen, Liu Yang and Fang Lin were crying, Proxiu was dodging lightning, the guild leaders were fleeing for their lives, and the soldiers were dying. He didn't move.

Someone is watching him.

"Why isn't Su Mu moving?"

"Zhao Derong, a mere C-level performer, is pushing himself to this extent. What is he doing?"

"Isn't he someone Commander Bai values? Has Commander Bai misjudged him?"

"Could it be that his legs went weak with fear? Look at his hands, they're shaking."

Su Mu's hands weren't trembling. But those people didn't care; they needed an outlet, someone to blame, a reason to ask, "Why didn't you go and die?" Questions came from all directions, buzzing like flies in his ear.

Some were disappointed, some were angry, some mocked, and some gloated. Those who were praising Proxiu before are now criticizing Su Mu; those who were saying "Su Mu might really be strong" are now shaking their heads; those who were observing before are now following the crowd.

"Zhao Derong is much better than that Su Mu!"