Chapter 146: Preparing for a Gang-Up

Yan Luo was not riding a horse—the previous two volleys of arrows had frightened his mount, causing the creature to rapidly paw a deep trench into the sandy beach with its hooves and leap inside to hide.

In truth, being on horseback was not conducive to executing the Ten Directions Staff Technique, as every single movement of the staff required the coordination of physical force.

"Roar!"

As he ran, a low growl burst from Yan Luo's throat. He had already charged to the front of the Spanish Royal Guards like a ferocious tiger. With a single leap and pounce, his hands gripping the coiling-dragon staff, he unleashed a move named "Cleaving the Eight Desolations," bringing the weapon down with a howling gale of force.

Weighing sixty-two catties, this crushing strike was as wild, violent, and devastating as a collapsing mountain! As the tip of the staff fell, it directly shattered the head of the foremost Spanish soldier like an exploding watermelon.

Fortunately, this was a game; otherwise, brains and blood would have been spewing everywhere.

Having killed a man with a single blow without pausing, Yan Luo gripped the shaft of the staff and launched himself off the ground, smoothly transitioning into a move called "Three-Talent Blazing Tremor." The iron staff vibrated with explosive force, emitting cracking and snapping sounds. The weapons of two soldiers who had raised their stone axes to slash simultaneously instantly developed spiderweb-like cracks across their surfaces, and in the next second, they shattered with a loud bang.

"Sweeping the Six Directions!"

Yan Luo swept the two disarmed soldiers, sending them flying off the ground. Upon hitting the sand, their bodies directly turned into data and vanished.

"A Single Pillar Supporting the Sky!"

A blow refined through a thousand trials—he thrust the staff straight ahead. A Spanish soldier in the front used a wooden shield to parry, but with a crisp snap, the wooden shield was pierced right through by the iron staff. Then came another crisp snap, and this time, what was pierced right through was the soldier's chest.

Smashing, cleaving, sweeping, collapsing, thrusting...

Amidst the endlessly ringing sounds of weapon collisions and the whistling of displaced air, Yan Luo was entirely like a tiger entering a flock of sheep. Not a single soldier could withstand even a single move under the swinging of the sixty-two-catty heavy iron staff.

These Royal Guards were undeniably strong, their baseline attributes exceeding those of the Macedonian soldiers, but Yan Luo had now advanced from a primary lifeform to an intermediate lifeform. He could finally use the sixty-two-catty coiling-dragon staff as a standard weapon, and he had even mastered the Ten Directions Staff Technique!

One Spanish soldier after another was beaten to death by the iron staff. These NPCs lacked near-death protection; upon falling to the ground, their corpses rapidly dissolved into data and disappeared.

In a mere ten minutes, under the swirling dance of Yan Luo's iron staff, one-third of the three-hundred-strong royal guard legion had been eliminated! Over a hundred men lay dead.

Fighting a hundred men single-handedly!

And it was a completely crushing victory at that.

The Spanish players watched this scene with gaping mouths and stunned expressions.

"This is an illusion. It can't scare me!" someone muttered to themselves.

Previously, fighting seventy or eighty people alone was already shocking enough. But now, three hundred soldiers belonging to Queen Isabella's royal guard were being ruthlessly and overwhelmingly slaughtered by a single player!

Moreover, what did this guy do in the real world?

Although they could not comprehend the explicit and implicit forces contained within the Ten Directions Staff Technique, there was one thing they could clearly see: Yan Luo's combat style was intensely dazzling!

Every single move and posture, the extension of his body, the trajectory traced by the staff, the ripples in the air, the shattering axes and shields upon impact, the particle-like visual effects created by flying stones and wood shavings, the residual afterimages and light effects stirred up by the staff whirling through the air...

It was simply breathtaking.

"Chinese Kung Fu!" someone couldn't help shouting out loud.

Many white people, despite looking down on the Chinese, harbored a heartfelt admiration for martial arts.

Numerous martial arts academies existed across Europe and America, where foreigners diligently practiced Chinese Kung Fu. As one German person had once stated: "My practice of martial arts comes from the bottom of my heart." Chinese Kung Fu movies had swept the world for decades.

Bruce Lee was named one of the "Top Ten Cultural Icons of the Century," revered by Westerners alongside Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, Coco Chanel, and Che Guevara.

Yan Luo did not engage in unarmed combat; instead, he used melee weapons, just like a scene from an ancient war—magnificent, sweeping, and unstoppable! Under this pure, heavy-weapon brutality, the Spanish soldiers scattered like splashing water droplets. Such a sight even caused some players to shout and cheer with excitement.

It was too cool and dazzling!

"Stop!"

Queen Isabella could finally bear it no longer: "Royal Guards, fall back!"

Every leader started out with five thousand soldiers. Before establishing a city and recruiting armies, these forces were the security guarantee during the early stages of a civilization. Having so many wiped out by Yan Luo—soldiers could not resurrect like players, and the loss was simply too great.

Seeing the soldiers retreat, Yan Luo did not pursue them.

After all, the sixty-two-catty coiling-dragon staff required him to channel his entire body's force into every single strike, consuming physical stamina intensely. Annihilating over a hundred soldiers had exhausted the majority of his stamina, leaving even his lungs burning with a hot, bloody metallic taste.

Pizarro and Cortés, the two most famous conquerors and adventurers of the Age of Discovery—one who destroyed the Aztec Empire, and the other who destroyed the Inca Empire, standing as the strongest generals of the Spanish civilization—had eyes bloodshot with rage.

High-level NPCs possessed emotional systems.

If the hundreds of men Yan Luo had killed were placed under their command, it would have been enough to conquer an ancient American imperial civilization—in true history, Pizarro, who destroyed the six-million-strong Inca Empire, brought only a little over 160 men.

Both generals burned with anger inside.

"That Chinaman is yours."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Cortest donned a bright red cloak embroidered with the pattern of the Feathered Serpent God, its edges adorned with individual feathers. From the perspective of the Stone Age, this cloak was gorgeous to the extreme! He drew a rapier resembling those used by modern fencing athletes, but the blade was not made of steel—it was obsidian!

The Feathered Serpent God cloak and the obsidian rapier were clearly items designed based on his exploits in conquering the Aztec Empire.

Beside him, Pizarro gripped a golden scepter, pressed a mechanism on it, and extended a golden spear tip from the top, transforming it into a golden spear. It was incomparably magnificent, the shaft shimmering with waves of dazzling golden light!

This was a weapon designed based on the background of conquering the Inca Empire.

Within the game, the leader of the Inca civilization, King Tupac Amaru, also possessed a similar spear, though it was even more grand, with the pattern of a deity embossed on the scepter: the Sun God Inti. The transformed golden spear was named: Spear of the Sun God.

The two most powerful subordinates of Isabella, the leader of the Spanish civilization—existences who had conquered ancient American civilizations with hundreds of men!

The strength of the two was clearly formidable, and all three pieces of equipment carried mysterious powers.

"Are those... divine artifacts?"

"No, probably not that high, but they are definitely magic weapons."

"I want them so badly..."

One player after another looked at the obsidian rapier, which seemed to contain the profound darkness of night, and the golden spear, which shimmered with the brilliance of the sun. Their eyes were filled with greed. Even if these could not compare to Napoleon's Consul's Sword, Himiko's Seven-Branched Sword, Victoria's Sword of Mercy, or Qin Shi Huang's Star-Shatter Sword—they were undoubtedly top-tier gear!

"Pizarro, let's go!"

Donning the Feathered Serpent God cloak and wielding the obsidian rapier, Cortés began to run. His movement was quite distinctive: one hand gripped the hilt while the other clutched a corner of the cloak, his upper body remaining rock-steady to maintain a posture ready for a thrust at any moment, while his legs moved with rapid strides.

Pizarro, gripping the golden spear with both hands, followed closely behind his companion with large steps.

The two of them were shamelessly preparing to gang up on him.