After killing the first serpentine Death Servitor, Wang Jianjun immediately pivoted to assist Xia Jidong. Despite being a B-rank hybrid with considerable natural strength, Xia Jidong had found himself locked in a grueling stalemate with the second serpentine creature. The addition of Wang Jianjun's support tipped the balance decisively. Working in tandem, the two men brought down the second serpentine Death Servitor within moments.
"Move!" Wang Jianjun's command cut through the chaos.
The other four operatives disengaged from the humanoid Death Servitors that had been harassing their flanks. Wang Jianjun and Xia Jidong took point, their longer weapons clearing a path through the press of corrupted bodies. The rest of the team followed in their wake, forming an arrow-head formation that punched through the horde with ruthless efficiency.
Four hundred meters to the exit. Then three hundred. Two hundred.
They were going to make it.
One hundred meters remained—just a short sprint between them and escape from this nightmare dimension.
Then everything went wrong.
A shadow fell across Chen Moqing, blotting out the impossible sun. He had barely registered the darkness when something massive plummeted from the sky like a stooping hawk.
"Chen, look out!" Qian Feng's warning came with action—he shoved Chen Moqing aside with all his strength.
The dragon-form Death Servitor's talons closed around empty air where Chen Moqing had been standing. They found Qian Feng instead. The creature's momentum carried it skyward, powerful wings beating as it lifted the captured man into the air.
"Dragon-form Death Servitor!" Aki's voice held equal parts shock and dread.
None of them had expected to encounter one of the legendary dragon-form variants. In hindsight, the surprise was foolish—this was the Nibelungen of the King of Sky and Wind himself. Of course such a domain would house more than just the weakest corrupted servants. Hell, the presence of second-generation dragon guards wouldn't even be surprising here.
"Provide covering fire for Qian Feng!" Wang Jianjun barked the order while simultaneously drawing his sidearm. He tracked the flying Death Servitor, waiting for a clean shot that wouldn't risk hitting their captured teammate.
The other four operatives drew their firearms as well, weapons rising to track the aerial threat. But the dragon-form Death Servitor moved with horrifying agility despite its cargo. It banked and rolled through the air, its serpentine body twisting in ways that defied easy prediction. The five shooters below struggled to get a bead on it—their aim constantly disrupted by its erratic flight pattern.
And they couldn't just spray the sky with bullets. Qian Feng was up there, held in those talons. One stray round could kill him just as surely as the Death Servitor could.
"Commander, don't shoot!" Qian Feng's voice carried down from above, strained but clear. "The gunfire will wake the Dragon King!"
Wang Jianjun gave no acknowledgment. His weapon remained raised, tracking, waiting for that perfect moment. The others maintained their aim as well, fingers resting against trigger guards.
Qian Feng understood then. They weren't going to shoot. Not because they didn't care, but because he was right—the risk was too great.
Which meant his survival was his own responsibility.
He twisted his body, fighting against the Death Servitor's grip, and reached for his belt. His primary weapon had been torn away during the initial grab. All he had left was the combat knife sheathed at his waist—a blade designed more for utility than combat, but it was something.
His fingers closed around the handle. He drew it with agonizing slowness, the Death Servitor's talons restricting his movement. Finally, the blade came free.
Qian Feng drove it into the creature's scaled thigh with all the strength he could muster from his awkward position.
The dragon-form Death Servitor shrieked—a sound that mixed rage with pain. Its golden eyes blazed with mindless fury.
Then its talons clenched with terrible, crushing force.
Qian Feng's scream cut off abruptly as his body separated at the waist. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc across the sky, painting abstract patterns against the blue. Gravity claimed the pieces of what had been a man, and they fell.
Several drops of blood splashed across Wang Jianjun's upturned face, warm and thick.
"Qian Feng!" Chen Moqing's voice broke on the name. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, fixed on the horror above. His friend—his comrade who had saved his life—had just been torn apart before his eyes.
"Retreat!" Wang Jianjun's order cracked like a whip. "Now!"
Chen Moqing's head snapped toward his commander, disbelief warring with rage on his face. "Commander Wang?"
How could he give that order? How could they just leave?
"I said retreat!" Wang Jianjun's tone left no room for argument.
Inside, Wang Jianjun was screaming. Qian Feng had been his brother-in-arms, a man he'd trusted with his life on countless missions. They'd shared drinks, shared stories, shared the kind of bond that only forms between soldiers who've faced death together.
But Wang Jianjun was the commander. And a commander's duty was to the living, not the dead. He had four people left who depended on him to get them home. More importantly, he carried intelligence that could mean the difference between humanity's survival and extinction. The King of Sky and Wind's existence had to be reported to headquarters.
Personal grief was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Wang Jianjun turned and ran toward the exit without another word. Ye Sheng, Aki, and Xia Jidong followed immediately. Chen Moqing stood frozen for a heartbeat, hatred and helplessness churning in his gut. Then survival instinct overrode emotion, and he sprinted after the others.
They'd covered barely fifty meters when the dragon-form Death Servitor dove.
It came down like a meteor, wings folded for maximum velocity, claws extended. The impact point would be directly in their path—cutting them off from the exit.
Wang Jianjun made his decision in a fraction of a second. As team commander and the strongest combatant, the responsibility fell to him. Someone had to buy time.
He skidded to a halt and reversed direction, his horse lance—a cavalry weapon over three meters long—gripped in both hands. "Keep running!" he shouted to the others. "I'll hold it here!"
If nobody stopped the Death Servitor, it would simply position itself at the exit and pick them off one by one. Its aerial mobility gave it that option. But if Wang Jianjun could engage it in close combat, force it to focus on him as a threat, the others might escape.
"Commander Wang, I'm with you!" Xia Jidong didn't hesitate. He wheeled around, his massive mo dao held ready, and charged to join Wang Jianjun's position.
Wang Jianjun felt a surge of grim gratitude. He wasn't certain he could hold a dragon-form Death Servitor alone—the power differential was too great. But with Xia Jidong's support, especially since they both wielded reach weapons that could keep the creature at bay, they had a chance. Not a good chance, but a chance.
Chen Moqing also tried to turn back, murder still burning in his eyes.
"Ye Sheng! Aki! Take Chen Moqing and get out of here!" Wang Jianjun's voice carried absolute authority. "You three must get the intelligence back to headquarters! That's an order!"
Chen Moqing's miao dao was a respectable weapon—longer than a standard sword, certainly. But compared to Wang Jianjun's horse lance and Xia Jidong's mo dao, it was practically a short blade. More critically, the weapon had been damaged during their earlier fight with the serpentine Death Servitors, its edge chipped and weakened. Chen Moqing would be a liability in this fight, not an asset.
Two defenders were enough to pin down the dragon-form Death Servitor. Wang Jianjun wouldn't sacrifice a third life unnecessarily.
Ye Sheng and Aki each grabbed one of Chen Moqing's arms and hauled him bodily toward the exit. He fought them every step, muscles straining against their grip.
"Let me go! They need support!" Chen Moqing's voice was raw with desperation.
"Chen Moqing!" Ye Sheng's shout cut through the other man's fury. "What is our mission? Tell me our mission!"
The question penetrated Chen Moqing's rage-fog. "To... to investigate the dragon that appeared in Kunlun. To report back to headquarters for the dragon-slaying operation."
"Then complete the damn mission!" Ye Sheng roared. "That's what they're dying for! Don't make their sacrifice meaningless!"
Something broke in Chen Moqing's expression. The fight drained out of him. "Understood," he whispered.
Ye Sheng and Aki released him, and all three ran for the exit without looking back.
Behind them, Wang Jianjun planted the butt of his horse lance against the ground and angled the blade upward, creating a defensive spike aimed directly at the diving Death Servitor. The creature would have to impale itself if it wanted to maintain its current trajectory.
But dragon-form Death Servitors weren't mindless. Not completely.
A gleam of intelligence flickered in the creature's golden eyes—some fragment of consciousness preserved despite the corruption. It adjusted mid-dive with frightening precision, banking hard to approach from Wang Jianjun's flank instead of head-on.
Wang Jianjun tried to pivot, to redirect his lance to meet the new angle of attack. But the Death Servitor was faster. It folded its leathery wings forward, using them as shields, and slammed into Wang Jianjun with its full mass behind the impact.
The horse lance connected—Wang Jianjun managed to swing it horizontal and brace it across his body to absorb some of the collision. But the weight difference was too extreme. The Death Servitor was easily three times his size and moving at terminal velocity.
Blood exploded from Wang Jianjun's mouth as the impact crushed the air from his lungs and cracked ribs. The force launched him backward, his body ragdolling through the air before crashing to the ground ten meters away.
He tried to stand. His legs wouldn't cooperate. The world swam in and out of focus, pain radiating from his chest in waves.
And the dragon-form Death Servitor turned its attention toward him, preparing for the killing blow.