PFC Chapter 161 Defending Our Homeland 4
Chapter 161 Defending Our Homeland 4
At this tense moment, Grandma suddenly shouted, "Watch me break your sorcery!" Before her words even finished, the shovel magic weapon shone brightly, its light dazzling and radiant like the sun, instantly shattering the enemy's black smoke spell. The black smoke vanished without a trace, leaving only the enemy's astonishment and fear.
Grandma seized the opportunity and threw the pot lid magic weapon with all her might, shouting, "You dare underestimate us!" The pot lid spun as it flew out, just like a rapidly spinning disc, and smashed right on the enemy's head.
The enemy was caught off guard by the sudden attack and was completely disoriented. With a pot lid on their head, they ran around aimlessly like headless flies, cursing all the while.
Before he could react, his grandmother and maternal grandmother pounced on him like two agile cheetahs, each grabbing one of his arms and twisting it sharply. The enemy let out a scream, instantly subdued and utterly powerless to resist. The enemy muttered repeatedly, "How are these two old women so strong..."
On the other side, the uncle and aunt stood side by side, their posture upright, their eyes fixed firmly on the enemy surging towards them like a tide. The uncle gripped a sword tightly in his hand, its blade gleaming with a cold, piercing light that seemed to proclaim its sharpness and power. The aunt stood quietly beside him, her hands moving rapidly, her fingers fluttering like nimble butterflies, as she chanted incantations, preparing to unleash a powerful spell.
Upon seeing this, the enemies were startled and paused slightly. But they did not retreat; instead, they let out strange cries and charged at the uncle and aunt even more fiercely. One of the enemies, charging forward, yelled, "Let me show you what we're made of!" He wielded a strangely shaped weapon, swinging it with a whooshing sound that kicked up clouds of dust.
Undeterred, the uncle brandished his sword, its blade flashing like a silver serpent. Every move carried immense power, as if capable of slaying all evil in the world. An enemy charged menacingly at him, but the uncle darted away like a nimble swallow, easily dodging the fierce attack. Then, with a backhand strike, he slashed at the enemy's weapon with lightning speed.
A deafening crash resounded, making eardrums ache. The enemy's weapon was nearly knocked away, his arm went numb, and a look of pain crossed his face.
Not to be outdone, her incantations grew increasingly rapid, and her hands moved even faster. In an instant, a series of dazzling spells flew from her hands, flames, frost, and lightning intertwining, like a magnificent yet dangerous painting, swiftly attacking the enemy.
An enemy, unable to dodge in time, was struck by the flames, his hair instantly ignited, and flames roared upwards. He screamed in agony as he frantically tried to extinguish the fire, but this only made the flames grow larger, turning him into a "human torch" in an instant. He rolled around on the ground in agony, emitting pitiful cries.
With the tacit cooperation of the uncle and aunt, the enemy gradually found themselves at a disadvantage. Their attacks grew increasingly fierce, like a storm, and the enemy, unable to defend themselves, began to retreat in disarray.
Seeing the situation was dire, and knowing that further resistance would only lead to death, one of the enemies turned to flee. The uncle shouted, "Where do you think you're going!" and charged forward like an arrow, kicking the enemy to the ground. Immediately afterward, the uncle pointed his sword at the enemy's neck, the gleaming tip pressed against his throat. The enemy, terrified, turned ashen-faced, his legs went weak, and he immediately raised his hands in surrender, his eyes filled with fear and despair.
Look at my aunt and uncle. They stand side by side, facing a powerful enemy, their eyes filled with determination and resolve, as if no difficulty in the world could defeat them. My uncle holds a long sword, its blade gleaming with a cold light, like winter snow, exuding a chilling aura. He stands tall and imposing, like a majestic mountain peak, unyielding and unyielding.
My aunt held a lotus-shaped magic weapon, which emitted a dazzling light. The light was soft and holy, enveloping her, making her look like a fairy descending to earth, beautiful as a dream.
As the enemy drew closer, my uncle launched the first attack. He roared, his voice echoing across the battlefield, and his longsword flashed like a silver lightning bolt, instantly slashing at the enemy. The blade flashed like lightning, gleaming with deadly light, and the enemies scattered in panic. One enemy reacted a little too slowly, his clothes torn by the blade, his face turning deathly pale, crying out, "My God, that blade is so fast!"
My uncle's attacks were relentless, giving the enemy no chance to breathe. He slashed down repeatedly, each strike sharp and deadly, forcing the enemy to retreat and throwing them into chaos.
Not to be outdone, the aunt gracefully wielded her lotus-shaped magical artifact, which unleashed powerful energy, transforming into beams of light that shot towards the enemy. The light carried mysterious runes, shimmering with an eerie glow, as if speaking of ancient power. The enemies struck by the light screamed in agony.
Some enemies were frozen in place by the light, unable to move, their faces showing terror and their eyes filled with despair; others were scorched by the light, emitting black smoke, writhing on the ground in agony.
With the tacit cooperation of my aunt and uncle, the enemy gradually found themselves in a difficult situation. Their attacks grew increasingly fierce, engulfing the enemy like a surging tide. The enemy began to retreat steadily, utterly powerless to fight back.
Aunt and Uncle successfully defeated their enemies, protecting everything they cherished. Uncle sheathed his sword with a clean and swift motion, displaying his elegance. Aunt put away her magic weapon, her face beaming with a victorious smile. The two looked at each other and smiled, their eyes filled with the joy of victory and mutual admiration, as if the whole world had stood still at that moment.
The siblings Wang Rong and Wang Guang displayed astonishing teamwork in the battle. Wang Rong's hands moved rapidly as she chanted incantations in a clear yet mysterious voice. Instantly, a green light shot from her hand, swiftly entangling the enemy like a nimble vine.
The entangled enemies struggled desperately, some pulling hard on the vines, but the vines only tightened, like tough ropes suffocating them. They struggled and shouted, "What the hell is this? Let me go!" Their voices were filled with fear and anger.
At the same time, Wang Guang's figure flashed, weaving through the enemies like a ghost, his speed so fast it was impossible to catch. The slender sword in his hand transformed into a streak of cold light, thrusting towards the entangled enemy. His movements were agile and precise; the sword seemed to come alive in his hands, nimbly weaving through the gaps in the enemy's defenses, searching for their weaknesses.
An enemy tried to dodge, but Wang Guang seemed to have anticipated his movements. With a slight turn of his small sword, as nimble as a swimming fish, he accurately pierced the enemy's arm. The enemy cried out in pain, and his weapon clattered to the ground, a look of agony on his face.