At the very moment the gunfire erupted, guests in the hall dropped to their knees, clutching their heads, while women screamed—chaos ensued. After Zhang Yuanqing shouted "Evacuate the casino," the guests and women, filled with anxiety, rushed without hesitation toward the casino doors, fleeing the center of the disturbance. Zhang Yuanqing's evacuation effort proved highly effective. Indeed, they had arrived—and with a Night-Wanderer companion! Both Qingsong and Qi Ba Jiao felt a surge of concern. The enchantress and the Night-Wanderer were both at the peak of their combat prowess; when compared on individual strength, excluding equipment, the gap between ordinary and peak-tier professionals was significant. With three against two, although their numbers were superior, their chances were not certain. Shenle glanced at her teammates and calmly said, "Don't worry. This is our home ground. The decisive weapon I brought from my family will be sufficient to handle them." Upon hearing this, Qingsong and Qi Ba Jiao relaxed slightly, their confidence returning. At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing glanced past the panicking crowd and turned his attention to the betting table by the window, instantly recognizing Wu Yi—the man with a mole on his cheek—and three Ling-jing travelers. To eliminate them as quickly as possible, Zhang Yuanqing shifted his focus and aimed his gun at the musician. Among the three, the musician was the weakest in physical condition, primarily serving a supportive role, and could deliver effective spiritual attacks against spiritual beings, posing the greatest threat to Ye You Shen. Further away, several guests wearing shirts grabbed the hunting rifles hidden beneath the slot machines and immediately unleashed a torrent of gunfire at the two intruders. The sudden turn of events left Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue caught off guard, forcing them to halt their advance toward the gaming tables and pause their shooting, instead dodging threats emerging from the crowd. Kou Beiyue kicked a woman aside and then swung her military saber, deflecting two bullets with crisp clinks—sparks flew as the bullets embedded into the walls and ceiling. Had they been hiding assassins among the guests? Zhang Yuanqing crouched low, evading the bullets, and was about to fire at the ordinary attackers when he noticed something was amiss. The twisted, hostile expressions on their faces—the desperate glares as if they wanted to peel them and extract their bones—were utterly out of the ordinary. Musician? Zhang Yuanqing quickly recalled the skills associated with a musician’s profession and pinpointed one—hypnosis! The core skill of a Level 3 Musician! They hypnotized the casino guests, treating ordinary people like pawns, hoping we'd hesitate, passively endure, and suffer losses—while any vigorous resistance would cost moral points, both to the guests and to the musicians themselves, who'd inevitably lose ground as they killed off hundreds to pay the price... Zhang Yuanqing swiftly discerned their underhanded intentions. Witnessing two of their adversaries disrupted by pre-arranged tactics, the deity of music, with strands of yellow hair, smiled with quiet satisfaction. The compact, sturdy figure of Seven-Blade exhaled a hearty laugh and immediately swung his arms, launching a ball of fire. At the same time, fierce flames surged up from his body. The hot fireball landed beside Zhang Yuanqing and instantly swelled, then the figure of Seven-Blade emerged from the flames, delivering a crisp, spear-like right punch. On the other side, the young man with yellow hair, elegant and refined, pressed his hand to his lips and began to hum a slow, lullaby-like melody. The tune was serene and soothing, like a mother softly singing a lullaby, inducing deep drowsiness and a profound sense of inner calm. Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue were slightly dazed, half-asleep. The seamless coordination between the 3rd-level musician and the 3rd-level fire specialist instantly put Zhang Yuanqing in peril. A fierce straight punch pierced his chest, and his body shattered like a phantom. This was only a phantom created by a spell of enchantment—when the seven blades leapt out of the flames, they themselves had been entranced. Zhang Yuanqing's true form materialized several meters away, holding one blade with one hand and pressing the first button on the Cat King speaker against his back. He was taking control. The next instant, a thunderous drumbeat erupted from the speaker, resonating throughout the hall—deep, resonant, and majestic, each beat echoing with power. The serene lullaby of the divine music was instantly silenced. Guests who hadn't had time to flee fell to their knees, trembling, including the hypnotized assassins. Kou Beiyue, his teammate, and the three enemy travelers from the spiritual realm all felt a heavy pressure in their chests, an inexplicable sense of fear and suffocation, desperately wishing to escape the scene. Zhang Yuanqing, with the ambient music playing in the background, raised his rifle and fired at the seven blades standing several meters away. On the other side, the young man with a broad face grew fierce, lifted both palms, and slammed them hard against his ears—shattering his eardrums—so that the oppressive, terrifying drumming instantly faded, leaving the world utterly silent. He seized a vine whip and swung it forcefully toward the enemy who had raised his rifle. Thump! Thump! The whip struck the enemy’s arms, causing the rifle to wobble, and the bullets hit the wall behind the seven blades, leaving two deep, ruptured bullet holes. With a flick of his wrist, the young man caused the whip to hook the hanging chandelier suspended from the ceiling, then gently swung himself like a monkey toward Zhang Yuanqing. The seven blades’ temples pulsed with tension, enduring the discomfort from the drumming, and with a heavy step forward, pressed a surge of scorching flame from their palms, coalescing it into a long, high-temperature blade. Transforming fire into an army! The blade swept upward, lashing toward Zhang Yuanqing’s chest and abdomen, leaving him no chance to fire. Zhang Yuanqing sidestepped the flame-swinging sword, the searing heat grazing his body and scorching his eyelashes and hair. "Thud!" He crossed his arms over his chest, blocking the flying kick from the young man with the horse's face, then stumbled back. At that moment, Kou Beiyue, influenced by the lullaby and the drumming, reacted a beat slower and failed to come to his aid. Not exactly—given your current level, how can you possibly claim to be on par with Li Xianzong? Li Xianzong is far stronger than you! Zhang Yuanqing caught a glimpse of his teammate caught in mental struggle, and couldn't help muttering a quiet critique in his mind. Crack! Crack! Crack! The young man with a horse-faced demeanor whipped his reed whip with vigorous force, striking the floor tiles until they cracked, shattering machinery, and sending Zhang Yuanqing stumbling and dodging. Meanwhile, the seven blades, driven by the fire master's aggression, closed in for close-range combat, their flame-wreathed fists raining down in dense succession, leaving no room for the enemy to recover or launch a counterattack. Together, they coordinated—each supporting the other—firmly containing the third-tier Night-Wanderer. Zhang Yuanqing exhaled a cold breath, absorbing the fire master's powerful punch, gaining a brief respite, then raised his head and roared. A hazy moonlight pierced through the buildings and fell upon him, gilding his form with a delicate silver glow. His pupils darkened and surged, completely covering the whites of his eyes, transforming his aura into something noble and otherworldly. Roar of the Moon! Then, with his right hand, he reached back and pressed the second button on the Cat King speaker. Instantly, the suona's sound erupted—lamenting, piercing, and soaring. Zhang Yuanqing's body suddenly swelled, his muscles rippling and At night, under the glow of the moon, and with the power of the suona, his breath reached an exceptionally terrifying level. "Crack!" The second punch from the fire master came swiftly, a fierce and deadly blow aimed at the temple. The flames exploded outward, and Zhang Yuanqing's seven orifices gushed with blood—enough to splinter his brain. Yet Zhang Yuanqing remained motionless, cracking his lips to reveal a cruel smile. The seven sword-holders stiffened, retreating decisively. Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward with his right foot, closing the distance with greater speed, then grasped the seven sword-holders' neck with his right hand, lifting him and pushing him a short distance before pressing down hard. Crack! The back of the seven sword-holders shattered the floor tiles. Zhang Yuanqing bent his knees, pressing firmly against his chest, straightened his spine, and raised his fist, delivering a powerful downward strike. The deep, resonant impact was accompanied by the sounds of fractured facial bones, nasal bones, and teeth, as the seven sword-holders' legs suddenly jerked violently. Crack! Crack!... Qingsong's face paled as the wisteria whip struck the enemy again and again, tearing through garments and splitting the flesh, leaving deep, gash-like wounds. Yet within two seconds, these wounds rapidly healed. At the gambling table, Godoku, observing the scene, immediately altered the melody, once more playing a lullaby, hoping to calm the enemy's battle resolve. Suddenly, he noticed the previously dazed youth crouching low, gripping his military sword, advancing silently and swiftly—like a tiger in pursuit of prey. Godoku instantly ceased playing and rolled on the ground. Crackle! The gambling table was shattered beneath a fierce kick from the young warrior. Hearing the cracking sound of the table breaking behind him, Godoku broke into a cold sweat, realizing that, as a musician, his close-combat prowess was barely sufficient to withstand a peer-level enchantress, let alone secure victory within ten strikes. Thud… thud… thud… The steady, resonant sounds came one after another. Upon hearing them, Juno turned to see the fierce night wanderer, wielding his heavy fists, repeatedly striking the face of the Seven-Bladed Sword. With each blow, the sword’s skull cracked, splattering crimson and white mingled flesh. The Seven-Bladed Sword’s legs convulsed, its head smeared with blood and torn tissue. So that’s how it ended? A Third-Class Fire Master, thus defeated? Juno’s expression darkened, deeply stirred. Without hesitation, he drew the pendant from his chest—a deep blue gem with fine, serpentine electric currents dancing within. With a gentle press of his fingers, the gem burst with a sharp crack. At that moment, Kou Bei Yue had already reached behind him, her military spear precisely aimed at his back. Sizzle… sizzle… The electric serpents surged in the air, striking the spear blade and then the body of Kou Bei Yue. Her form instantly stiffened, her short hair standing upright in sharp spikes. Juno spun around sharply, summoning a lightning lash in his palm and delivering a powerful strike. Red glyphs flared Kou Beiyue弹跃双腿，挺身刺入军刀. As the blade was about to pierce the enemy's chest, Shenle suddenly transformed into a blinding flash of lightning, "crashing" toward the distance and materializing six meters away, where his long thunder lash, though late, landed with decisive force. Kou Beiyue nimbly rolled to the side. Crack! The thunder lash split the ground with crisp, resonant sounds. Shenle rose into the air, his hair standing upright, a lightning pattern etched across his brow, as if the Thunder God himself had descended. With a cold, composed gesture, he waved his lash, forcing Kou Beiyue to either roll or jump, awkwardly evading, much like a trainer playing with a wild, uncooperative beast. "Hmph!" Shenle said coldly, "A mere Level 3 Enchantment-type spirit—dare to breach the dragon's den and tiger's lair? Who gave you the courage?" The disposable prop he had just shattered came from a foreign profession known for its singular ability, yet renowned for its devastating offensive prowess—Thunder! At the same time, simplicity is its cost—once the prop is used, the musician's skills can no longer be employed. This one-time prop reaches the level of a Saint, with a duration of fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes is enough to eliminate two Level 3 Stalkers or to hold off until Chimei An arrives. He had always cherished this prop, intending to use it only when absolutely necessary. Yet this young fool had summoned a Level 3 Night Wandering Deity for assistance—his strength was truly formidable, and within less than three minutes of combat, he had dispatched seven blades. Turning now to Zhang Yuanqing, he declared with the solemnity of a celestial decree, "You too will die." Kou Beiyue's expression grew grave. Though he had never witnessed such mastery over lightning, the overwhelming pressure and devastating power were unmistakable—clearly the hallmark of a Saint's strength. He had assumed that, as a mere Enchanter, combined with Yuan Ting's Night Wandering Deity, he could easily subdue the modest Copper Rooster Pavilion without any surprises. Yet the opponent had such a decisive trump card. Once again, it's failed. Every single move ends in defeat—I'm simply so unlucky… He's both disheartened and furious, convinced that fate itself is working against him. Why does Heaven so often favor the wicked? Kou Beiyue glanced at "Yuan Ting," silently asking him whether they should retreat, only to be stunned to find that this Night-Wanderer of the Taiyuan Sect remained utterly calm and composed. "Oh, it's time to pull out the big guns!" Zhang Yuancheng kicked the body at his feet aside, his eyes dark as ink, and spoke calmly, "Then I can now pour all my strength into the attack." "Really? Just you?" Shino floated above, sneering. Zhang Yuancheng paid no attention. Under the watchful eyes of the three, he bit into the willow blade, donned the Bruiser's gloves, put on his black-framed glasses, produced the Vambrace and the Straw Man, summoned the Red Slippers, and finally, in the three's astonishment, unfurled a dark robe embroidered with blazing flames and wavy patterns. Is there truly someone so wealthy? Is this a mobile treasure vault? Kou Beiyue stared in disbelief, while Qingsong and Shinoko both felt the urge to curse under their breath. "Resolve you within one minute—more than enough!" Zhang Yuancheng tossed his Yin-Yang robe into the air. The robe unfurled in midair, the Taiji fish on its back slowly rotating, sending out translucent streams of water that surged with intense flames. Water and fire balanced each other, forming a massive, rotating disk that spanned a thirty-meter radius. Zhang Yuancheng himself then vanished. "Huff... huff..." Kou Beiyue's position was unfortunate—he was precisely caught within the fire array, his sleeves blazing with flames. He gritted his teeth, patting them off, his skin quickly turning red and forming blisters. The already delicate body of the seductive spirit-being was already suffering so greatly; imagine what the wooden spirit must be going through—tumbling and screaming in the searing heat, desperately trying to break through the windows and escape. Whoosh! An invisible wall of energy blocked his path. Could he really not make it? Shinagawa arched his brow, his confident demeanor dimming, yet he remained calm. This one-time prop gave him sufficient confidence—he just needed to hold on for fifteen minutes, and Chikurin An would surely arrive. "A mere trifling skill," Shinagawa said, gazing down at the water and fire array with cold composure. "Whether it's a trifling skill or not, you'll find out soon enough." In the shimmering stream of water, a figure formed—solidified from water—appearing with a spear in one hand and a sword in the other, wearing black-framed glasses. "This blonde is so arrogant—I'm actually annoyed," said the figure emerging from the flames. From the fire, a form slowly materialized, wearing gloves and holding the Vamper Staff and a straw figure. The water form paid no attention to the fire form, gently lifting her palm. The ethereal stream of water swept up the guests still inside the hall, including Mr. Bu, carrying them into the water array. Compared to the fire, the water was more gentle—its flowing stream did not cause suffocation, allowing ordinary people to survive. Within the blaze, these individuals would be reduced to ash within moments. Once the Water Form had completed all this, the Flame Form eagerly revealed the Straw Man, transforming the crude and unattractive puppet so that his face took on the likeness of Godoku. With two fingers gripping the straw man's head, the Flame Form suddenly exerted immense force. Godoku in the sky screamed in agony, his face shrouded in a swirling black mist. His eyes filled with endless fury and madness; his reason eroded by decay, becoming a wild beast driven solely by emotion, charging relentlessly toward the Flame Form. Using the Vision of the Observer, the Water Form anticipated Godoku's path and pressed the trigger. Thud! Thud! The bullets missed. By instinct, Godoku transformed into lightning, striking the Flame Form while simultaneously evading the bullets coming from behind—thus delivering a direct hit to the Flame Form. The human silhouette formed by the Flame Form brought both hands together in a solid palm-to-palm clash. Boom! His body was shattered by the lightning, dissolving into a brilliant blaze of fire. And Shenle faced the explosion head-on. As a musician, the lightning did not strengthen his body—instead, he was instantly severely injured. "Puff! Puff!" The water duplicate fired decisively, covering the area with concentrated fire. Sizzling... Shenle's body turned into a stream of electricity, and once again, the bullets missed. This was a speed Shang Yuanqing had never witnessed—despite the opponent's consciousness becoming disoriented, relying solely on instinct, the water duplicate's two shots still failed to connect. Red Slippers pursued the young man with a broad face, now delivering an especially brutal assault, stepping firmly and repeatedly upon him. The already severely burned Seiho, under the relentless pressure, had his cries shift from strong to faint, barely holding on through the recovery power of the wood spirit. "Hey, doggone it, Kou Beiyue—do you have any idea how to seriously wound this guy?" The flame duplicate reformed, speaking angrily. Before Kou Beiyue could respond, the flame duplicate grumbled, "Stubborn original—always just talking! With this guy's speed, not even a minute of continuous attacks can kill him." "Kou Beiyue said, 'I need his blood.' 'Easy!' The water-bodied figure lifted one foot, and the Taiji fish behind his yin-yang robe spun. The water-fire array shifted, and cascading streams of ethereal water surged in layers, enveloping Shengle. Though water has no form, it possesses substance—within this array, there was no escape, no matter how fast Shengle moved. With a sharp snap of his fingers, a shimmering stream of water swept over Shengle's body, carrying away blood scorched by flame. Under the water-bodied figure's guidance, the blood fell toward Kou Beiyue. Kou Beiyue extended his palm to receive it, then reached into his inventory and grasped a bronze sculpture—holding a short knife, its face grim and fierce. He brushed the blood onto the sculpture and placed it on the ground, then knelt, bowing deeply. The bronze sculpture's eyes flared with a deep crimson light, and the miniature knife struck down. Suddenly, Shengle cried out in agony, blood mist erupting from his chest, revealing a horrific wound that exposed bone. This blow rendered him completely incapacitated. Seize the opportunity. The water duplicate swiftly stepped in, firing off one after another of his arrows, each striking the Shunle and creating massive wounds. Shunle's body collapsed, and the lightning symbol at his brow faded out. He was dead. Turning to the fire duplicate, the water duplicate coldly remarked, "Idiot! Don't just watch the show—that wooden spirit hasn't died yet." "Ah, right!" The fire duplicate immediately snapped to attention, summoning his magnificent flame blade and advancing with purpose, severing the young man's head with a single stroke. The wound at the neck turned black, with not a single drop of blood spilling. Seeing this, both the water and fire duplicates dissolved effortlessly, the flowing water and blazing flames returning to their robes. Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward, catching the robes and retrieving all the props—except the red dance shoes—into his inventory. "Resolved. It's done..." Stunned, Kou Beiyue, her body marked with numerous burn scars, gazed at Zhang Yuanqing. How strong was he? Absolutely extraordinary. Was this Yuan Ting the heir of a senior master from Taimo Sect? How could an ordinary cultivator be so well-off? "Don't waste time—bring Master Wu here." Zhang Yuanqing slowly exhaled, finally releasing the pent-up anger he'd been holding since tonight. "And what about you?" Kou Beiyue asked. "Stop talking!" Zhang Yuanqing glared at him. I don't have time—I have to perform a clumsy dance in my own mind, he thought, chuckling to himself. "Very well, very well..." Kou Beiyue scanned the unconscious crowd and swiftly located Master Wu. He strode over to him. At that moment, waves of flames surged from the windows, shattering the glass with a loud burst, and the fire erupted into a bright, solid figure—a man in a white suit. Guichu An has arrived! Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue both grew serious, their eyes blazing with both fury and determination.