Monsters swarm outside Heavenly Court, relentless. Each defense tower salvo fells dozens, but sheer numbers push some past the kill zone, nearing the vine fence.
Zhou Yan, unwilling to risk structural damage—especially to the fence, critical for settlement scores—rallies his team. "Outside the fence—cut them down!"
Their strength emboldens the move. Damaged buildings could dock his evaluation, costing rewards.
White-Robed Ghost Soldiers form ranks, spears gleaming, ready. Zhou Yan grips his Fengyang Bow, its fiery red curve phoenix-like. Diao Chan, beside him, wields her blade.
"Gorgeous bow," she admires.
"Just grabbed it from the Mystery Store," Zhou Yan grins. "Want it?"
"No, bows aren't my style," she declines, hefting her weapon.
Zhou Yan draws the golden bow, arms—over 100 strength—forming a full moon effortlessly.
"Boom!"
An arrow rockets, piercing a Black-Toothed Pig and the snake behind it. Both collapse.
"Gold's no joke," Zhou Yan nods, nocking another.
Archery isn't new—combat classes on Canglan Continent drilled swordplay, fists, and bows. Post-inheritance, his senses—eyesight, soul, perception—transcended, his mind sharpened. It's a rebirth, a life's baptism, hard to articulate.
Monsters close in. The corporal leads: "White-robed ghost soldiers, life or death! Kill!"
S-tier veterans, they strike as one. Spears plunge, felling boars and lizards. No monster matches their level or skill—slaughter ensues. They advance, leaving corpses.
Day eight's assault dwarfs the prior seven. Textbooks warned: post-week one, monster numbers and strength spike, testing lords. High-quality territories like Zhou Yan's draw fiercer hordes.
Chat rooms wail—lords' crystals shatter, names gray out. Globally, day eight culls rookies. For others, more monsters spell doom; for Zhou Yan, they're loot.
Zhen Mi's luck doubles chest yields—2-4 coins versus his 1-2. Thousands of monsters hit in half an hour, with no end in sight. Other lords face a fraction—his trial's intensity underscores his edge.
More breach the towers' range, charging the fence.
"Kill!" Zhou Yan swaps bow for blade, blitzing a Black-Toothed Pig. His 200+ attributes—buffed by gear—make it effortless. The pig's neck splits, dead sans skills.
He dives into the fray, carving through monsters. Corpses trail him—over a dozen in moments.
Diao Chan, slashing nearby, marvels. His speed blurs, even to her. His might reassures her—no harm will touch him.
The territory's refresh clears carcasses, preventing piles. An hour in, distant monsters still pour. "Stamina holding?" Zhou Yan calls.
"Lord, this is nothing!" a soldier shouts. S-tier physiques shrug off an hour's fight.
The Blade, Gas, and Storm Towers dominate, culling most foes. The Poison Gas Tower's mist and powder devastate, the Blade Tower's storm slices, and the SSS-tier Storm Tower rains havoc. Yet towers are finite—none sell in trials.