The Alchemist's Guide to Flesh and Blood Ascension

Meanwhile, the previously silent eastern pipe was now filled with a deadly white toxic gas that could cause lung ulceration.

The cultists, dressed in white robes, lay sprawled among them, with only the leader, Walker, and his second-in-command struggling to stand, leaning on their swords, barely clinging to life.

"Communications are down...Quick, go tell Bishop Uriel," Walker said in a muffled breath, untying his storage bag and shoving it into his deputy's arms. "Go...hurry up."

call out--!

A crossbow bolt pierced his palm!

What followed was Old Six's shout: "Fellow rats, I, Old Six, don't understand all these roundabout ways... Kill them, and we'll be close to returning to our 'rat nest'!"

This short, chubby ratman, who usually only rolls around in piles of gold coins, is now wearing a "plate armor" made of dozens of scrap boiler steel plates riveted together. He is holding an iron sword that is slightly longer than him and pointing it at the church members!

Behind it were dozens of ratmen counterattack team members dressed in similar attire, wearing breathing equipment similar to that used by Yunevo when diving. Some carried backpacks filled with alchemical explosives, while others carried poison sprayers. They marched forward in unison!

"Brother Yunevo said it's either we get killed by these white-robed men, or we kill these white-robed men!" The sixth brother took two difficult steps forward. "We don't want to become specimens, so..."

"Kill them!" Old Six used all his strength to slash at the air!

boom!

Three ratmen wielding tetanus blades kicked open the maintenance pipe on the side, grabbed the throats of the fallen paladins with a claw, and slashed them down!

"You...do you really think I'm just a decoration?" Walker laughed angrily, first spitting out a mouthful of dark blood, then his weakened aura actually increased instead of decreasing—he had actually used the life-threatening combat skill [Self-Sacrifice]!

The next moment, his speed was comparable to that of the [Gale Rush] that Yunefu had used before, and each flash of golden light could take the life of a helpless ratman!

"Don't be afraid, rats! We have some formidable fellows coming too!" Old Six shouted, as the figure of that ranger wielding a crossbow appeared behind him—Nichta.

"What you're saying..." Nehta's expression was grave. He shielded the sixth brother behind him and then ordered without hesitation, "Rat brothers, retreat... I'll take care of the rest."

"Ha, you? A half-baked fifth-tier professional?" Walker scoffed, clearly not optimistic about this hunter-mage hybrid, and swung his sword again, smashing a ratman to pieces...

"Come on, let me see how much weight you have?" He raised his leg, ready to charge straight at Nehta, but was blasted back two steps by an explosive crossbow bolt.

"Hey~ Looks like some people want some sewer skewers..." Nehta pressed the speed switch on the side of the crossbow—during his time in Starmoke, he had bothered Dark quite a bit to modify his "treasure".

……

Battles rage on constantly within these dark tunnels, abandoned by the Holy Light…

When a paladin falls, one or two other creatures from the underworld will also fall.

Even with the support of three high-level combatants—Yonev, Nehta, and Iseria—the casualty ratio still reached a despairing one to one.

The stench of blood in the air had thickened into a visible, floating mist.

A sense of desolation and grief spread through every crack in the drainpipe...

In times of war, where can heroic epics be found?

Amidst the chaos, Lin huddled at the top, at the joint of the main pipe that perpetually spewed out waste steam. Its lame leg twitched slightly from maintaining the same position for so long…

But it was completely unaware.

Even though his fingers were bleeding from fiddling with that rudimentary vibrating device for so long...

"Yes, yes, fire there! Sixth Brother, quickly help Nehta fire some 'sneak arrows'! Beautiful, worthy of being a citizen of the forest!" The lame ratman closed his eyes and at this moment actually looked a bit like an emperor "leading an expedition"!

However, just as he was about to issue another order to encircle them...

A warm breath sprayed onto the back of its neck.

Lin's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat—it was the gaze of his apex predator, the instinctive tremor.

"Found you...you damn little mouse..."

His voice was as gentle and refined as ever, but it carried a chilling intent to kill the other party!

It's Edmund!

The middle-aged man who was leading the "Holy Cross" team actually managed to find Lin's location by following the clues, thanks to his keen sense of "frequency"!

The latter suddenly turned around, his crippled right leg slamming against a protrusion in the pipe wall, trying to eject himself before the holy silver dagger, gleaming with divine light, arrived!

But clearly, Edmund wasn't raised to be a pushover...

He immediately changed his stance to a thrust, taking a swift step forward and plunging the dagger into Lin's right ribs, drawing a spray of red blood!

"Ugh—!"

Lin screamed as he lost his balance in the narrow pipe and crashed into a rusty valve wheel, falling with a "plop" into the rushing wastewater below.

We can't die! We can't die!

The lame ratman struggled to emerge from the water, the burning pain stimulating its brain to regain consciousness in the cold wastewater!

A pale gray claw extended from the bank of the "wastewater river"!

Lin clutched his right side, wriggling along the shore like a maggot...

Click!

Even though his fingernails were broken from scratching the tube wall, this lame rat-man, who once dreamed of becoming emperor, didn't utter a sound!

He wanted to run away; he wanted to take this white-robed figure, who could influence the battlefield, away from the battlefield between Lao Liu and Lang Lang…

He wanted to protect the last chance for survival for his "subjects"!

"Yonev... Lin, Lin is a little injured and a bit cold... Lin doesn't seem... quite like a good emperor..."

It continued crawling, sending out a final, faint tremor through the communication crystal pressed against its throat...

Even the broken notes sounded like crying.

"Iseria, can you pinpoint Lin's location?" The black-robed alchemist's face showed no emotion, but his fists were clenched tightly.

"It's in the wastewater river, moving very slowly towards the 'root'..." The fair-haired girl looked somewhat tired—it was still a bit difficult for her to completely stop the Western cultists on her own.

"There's a large 'signal source' following behind, probably the one chasing it," Iseria said softly, looking at Yunevo. "I can use ether to hold it off for a few more minutes."

"Please..." Yunefu nodded and patted the white-haired girl on the shoulder.

Then, he turned around, his black robe drawing a suffocating arc in the blood mist.

"I'll go to the rescue."