At Ye Tianxie’s current HP, he could just barely withstand two oxen’s simultaneous attack at once; three carried the possibility of an instant kill; four meant certain death; and twelve… and that was even on the foundation of the 200 HP the Ring of Life added.

For an ordinary player, forget one person — even twelve people faced an impossible challenge… but that, too, was only for ordinary players.

The positions and charging paths of the twelve oxen were laid out clearly in Ye Tianxie’s mind in the blink of an eye. His body unmoving, he raised the Hour of Eternal Fate, and while calculating the brief span of the oxen’s charge, he simultaneously worked out the scene of the second and third seconds to come…

His body shifted to the left, then, mid-attack, spun through an extreme angle, the Hour of Eternal Fate in his hand carving a semicircular arc along with the motion. In the instant his body paused slightly, an ox grazing past him slammed hard into the very ox that had first charged him.

One strike landing true, Ye Tianxie swiftly left his position and went on the offensive against the four oxen arriving from behind at the same time — while at his back, three oxen fell into that brief one-second stall that followed a “Savage Charge.”

The Magician Beneath the Light and Shadow — this was another title foreign players had given the “Undefeated Evil Emperor” of Huaxia’s gaming world. Videos of him tangling with powerful monsters were exceedingly rare, but every one of them would leave the whole world marveling. That consummate, unbelievable footwork left them able to describe it only with the word “magic.” A monster’s attack was always a hair’s breadth from his body, yet could never truly land on him. Perfectly evading one continuous attack after another with the smallest possible margins of dodging — those inconceivable scenes, what could explain them besides magic?

The virtual gaming world let everyone begin from the same attributes and the same abilities, yet it was destined to be unable to affect a person’s brain, and thus unable to affect their thinking and reaction abilities in the game world. People said Tian Moxie had “lightning-like reaction speed,” “reflexes surpassing humankind,” “thinking precise to the point of terror.” He was like a swimming fish — no force could truly be brought to bear on his body — while he could always, in that split second, make the most accurate judgment and shift to the most correct position.

And a certain kind of person would think of three words at once: an esper! Reflexes and computational ability like this were by no means something ordinary people could possess. At the very least, his degree of brain-region development was surely far beyond an ordinary person’s. And so some people probed as best they could into Tian Moxie’s true identity, yet in the end found no clue. Tian Moxie never showed his true face to others, appeared in the public eye only rarely, and his counter-tracking ability was formidable beyond the ordinary. In a virtual gaming world where even the officials couldn’t truly obtain players’ private information, uncovering his real-world identity was indeed no easy matter.

The herd churned in a frenzy, kicking up sheet after sheet of sand and dust as they charged, accompanied by ox-roars layered one over another. Ye Tianxie’s body was like an illusory shadow, moving and weaving left, right, forward, and back among the twelve Frenzied Fierce Oxen — now shifting left, now right, now suddenly rushing straight at the herd as if courting death…

His footwork followed no rules at all, as if entirely on a whim — and had a player been standing here right now, they’d surely have been struck dumb with astonishment at Ye Tianxie’s weaving figure, as though watching an alien visitor beyond all ordinary measure… Because every time Ye Tianxie moved, his footing landed on the brief gap that happened to open the very next instant; the next body-position, another gap; while the gap he’d stood in before was covered, almost at the same moment, by an ox’s charge.

In the span of one second, he spun through four body-positions as if performing magic, and when his toes touched down, at his side were the backs of three oxen, and he’d finally found another chance to attack. The Hour of Eternal Fate swept out swiftly, drawing up three scarlet numbers.

In thirty seconds, he’d attacked a total of three times — and in the midst of the herd, he’d been hit a total of… zero times!

This would be a magnificent performance no audience would have the fortune to watch.

Moo~~

A dull, heavy ox-bellow came, and an ox in mid-charge suddenly slowed, its body swaying unsteadily, a -5 number floating up above its head — it had, in its violent exertion, unluckily triggered a kidney-stone flare-up. But the kidney-stone flare-up hadn’t dispelled its ferocity; bearing the damage numbers rising ceaselessly above its head and a body plainly grown heavier, the stubborn ox went on charging at its target just as before.

A rock over half a meter tall appeared behind Ye Tianxie. His gaze slanting toward it, he leapt back with all his might onto the rock, and in the very instant both feet touched down, he threw all his strength into another sudden forward leap… A crash resounded below, as three oxen slammed into the rock at once, knocking the huge stone clean over — while Ye Tianxie’s body performed a magnificent midair somersault, sailing over the oxen’s bodies to land behind them and strike back with a single reverse slash.

A player’s initial jump power was 1 — meaning a maximum jump height of only 1 meter, a height that couldn’t possibly clear an ox’s body. But borrowing the rock’s height added to his base jump height, Ye Tianxie vaulted clean behind the oxen and struck twice at their exposed, open backs before once again slipping far away.

His attack frequency wasn’t high — very low, in fact — but he was whittling down the oxen’s HP bit by bit. His expression was calm and unrippled, his two thick brows tilting slightly, while his heartstrings were held in a taut state… because let him lose focus even slightly, and once he fell into the herd’s attacks, it would take just one second to send him back to the novice village.

Still, under such frenzied and prolonged attack, even the strongest reactions and judgment should eventually suffer a split-second misjudgment and be forced to the point of nowhere left to dodge. Yet Ye Tianxie, in silence, had set himself a cruel goal… and that goal was not to wipe out these twelve full three-star elites… but rather — to annihilate them all without taking a single hit!

He was always this crazy, always setting himself one crazy goal after another, time and again. The Frenzied Fierce Oxen had powerful charging ability, but their movement speed was slightly inferior to his, and so he dared set himself such a goal, and had the standing to demand it of himself.

The white novice clothes carried a white figure along, swaying at times like a drifting phantom, at times darting back and forth.

Shhk! -153, -155…

Shhk… -150, -152…

The black arc of light always swept through gaps too narrow for a hair, in that split second too narrow for a hair, drawing up scattered damage numbers. The Frenzied Fierce Oxen grew more frenzied still, their layered ox-roars more urgent by the moment.

Half an hour slipped slowly past amid the endlessly repeating scene, until at last, with one feeble bellow, a Frenzied Fierce Ox toppled mid-charge… and not it alone — every other Frenzied Fierce Ox had its HP driven below half as well.

Concentrating intensely isn’t hard; what’s hard is gathering and tautening the mind every single moment, every minute and every second. Mental fatigue is more terrible than physical fatigue. And in this half hour, Ye Tianxie hadn’t paused for even a single second, every second spent reacting swiftly, shifting position, and continuously predicting and calculating…

Beneath his calm exterior, the things he pondered and calculated each second were by no means anything an ordinary person could imagine.

(End of Chapter 40)