At this moment, the roar from that lion-like man on the west side of the village echoed through the sky, even suppressing the howls of the Star Beasts on this side.

"How could the Hero of the White Armor Tribe be ambushed and knocked down!"

Boom!

Boom!

The sounds of explosions resounded like blasts one after another.

Turning to look, Nuonuo could even see a dozen figures being thrown into the air, along with a mist of blood spraying in mid-air.

The battle in the western area of the village instantly reached a fever pitch.

And just a hundred meters outside the main gate of the tribe, Alva, blood-soaked and brawny, fiercely rammed an Iron Armored Mountain Beast in front of him aside, turning his head abruptly.

"Clan Leader!!"

"Uncle Isaiah!"

"Honorable Clan Leader!"

At this moment, a thousand people cried out in unison.

"Hold on here, I’m going to help him!" Alva roared angrily, striding out toward the west side of the tribe.

His entire body sprinted like a rampaging bear, with each stride creating a giant depression over two meters in diameter.

Thump, thump, thump!

At this moment, the rhinoceros-hide war drums of the White Armor Tribe thunderously beat.

Everyone, regardless of gender or age, was passionately encouraging the warriors defending the tribe.

...

"Isaiah, that Wild Beast has gone mad. Everyone, attack him, wear him down until he’s exhausted."

"Hurry up, reinforcements are coming over there... Ah!"

A figure violently swung a Heavy Axe down.

Holding a Bone Gold Battle Axe, Alva cleaved a Red Stone Warrior trying to ambush Isaiah from behind in two, with scalding blood soaring several meters high.

"Uncle Isaiah!"

Seeing more than a dozen blood-soaked wounds on Isaiah’s body, Alva’s eyes instantly turned red, raising his head with a ferocious look.

"You Red Stone Tribe scum, your opponent is me."

"You brat, such injuries, what do they matter, hahaha." Isaiah laughed wantonly, casually pulling out a Crossbow Arrow deeply embedded in his shoulder, and with a reverse swing, smashed another ambusher, making the Red Stone Tribe warriors freeze momentarily with his domineering aura.

"Lord Basham, he’s too strong, showing no signs of exhaustion at all!"

Seeing that over eighty of their comrades had already been killed or wounded in just a few minutes of confrontation, someone finally couldn’t stand it.

Basham’s gaze carried malice as he hid at the outermost edge of the battle, even disguising his voice with a Bull Horn when he just spoke.

Upon seeing another five clansmen smashed and slain, Basham’s hatred was forcibly suppressed, "The ambush has failed, retreat, our Crossbow Arrows are poisoned, we’ll come back tomorrow! I want Isaiah to watch in despair as his clansmen become our slaves."

The Bull Horn blew once again.

Isaiah and Alva, fighting bloodily, simultaneously felt a lightening of the pressure around them.

"Uncle Isaiah, return to the village first, I’ll go kill Basham." Alva looked at the vast expanse of thick grass in the distance with a deeply ingrained hatred.

"No." Isaiah’s solid hand clasped Alva’s shoulder, preparing to speak, then suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood that was a purple shade of red.

Isaiah’s complexion began to show an abnormal gray-white hue. He looked at Alva’s youthful face and gently shook his head.

Alva’s brain gradually calmed from anger as he glanced over the battlefield.

At a glance, the Red Stone Tribe had at least sixty people dead, but their White Armor Tribe also had twenty warriors fallen...

Ten remaining were covered in wounds, nearly unable to stand.

"Let’s go back!"

Alva choked, biting his words, supporting Isaiah’s robust form, charging toward the tribe like a madman.

"The Clan Leader was hit by a poisoned arrow, get the antidote quickly!"

"Miss Nuonuo, with wisdom like the stars, please save Uncle Isaiah."

Seeing the increasingly apparent gray-white hue on Isaiah’s face, Nuonuo bit her lip and nodded heavily.

"In terms of medical skills, my knowledge is limited, but I have a vial of serum here, Uncle Isaiah, you must hold on."

"Hey, I won’t die." Isaiah weakly chuckled, laughing until his brawny body softened and fell forward.

"Clan Leader!"

"Clan Leader."

...

...

At a distance of two hundred thousand kilometers from the boundless edge of the Black Storm, the rear of that massive prism-shaped warship was now enveloped in one giant spore bubble after another.

Standing on the mobile observation platform, Job and Luke, two High Purity members of the Saint Luo Clan, carefully watched those gently trembling spore bubbles, finally losing the anxiety on their faces.

It had been a full eleven hours, all the spore repair bubbles had finished cultivation, and now they just had to wait one last hour.

Once the cultivated nanorobots completed the basic repairs on those two damaged engines, they could leave this damned place.

The tall and slender Captain Job, at this moment, kept stroking the crystal ball atop the column-shaped control panel before him with one hand.

This small observation platform, with a diameter of only about five meters, rose and fell around the warship, the more he looked, the more it pained his heart, but Job still suppressed the pain, watching his warship, constantly calculating how much Xiling would be needed for repairs.

[This probably needs... fifty million... no, at least one hundred fifty million Xiling. My heart... Oh my God!]

Job’s handsome face was now all scrunched up, the writhing Saint Luo blood almost ready to spray from his eye sockets, the larger the warship, the more astronomical the repair costs.

Xiling is the hard currency of the Saint Luo Universe!

For the civilians at the bottom, even just one Xiling is enough for them to live for two days.

One hundred fifty million Xiling, this is simply... Alas!

Job sighed unwillingly and helplessly.

No choice, he only had this one warship.

The Wind Chaser was his ultimate glory as a High Purity member.

Vice Captain Luke helplessly covered his head.

He was pained too, but compared to Job, he was more rational; as long as the foundation remained, this money could eventually be earned back.

"Sigh, suddenly reminded of the pursuit notice from Cameron’s garrison... 300 million Xiling." Job murmured in amazement beside him.

"Alright, wake up, stop dreaming. Cameron’s garrison is playing people for fools. Precise coordinates need to be verified first."

"Would a target of this level obediently stay in one spot waiting for the military to come? The underlying meaning of an S-level notice is to have us trap the target, what a joke, even an A-level notice target we can’t afford to provoke." Luke impatiently interrupted his companion’s self-talk.

"Not to mention that trillion to one chance of discovery."

After speaking, Luke began to focus on observing their warship.

However, a few seconds later, Luke surprisingly found no complaints or replies from Job, instead, his arm was tightly grasped.

The sound of grinding teeth clashing was heard near his ears.

"What are you doing!? Job!" Luke protested, turning back. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

Then, when he saw the direction Job was staring at with an open mouth... all his expressions completely froze, and he slapped himself on the face.