Chapter 15: Slaughter at the Sword's Tip, the Malice of Heart's Blood

“Thud—!”
A heavy, muffled roar shook the ground beneath them.
The weapon—more like a steel door than a sword—struck the floor with such force that the solid tile beneath it cracked and caved in, spiderweb fractures spreading out like a terrifying scar.
The blade’s tip pierced through the tile and sank nearly ten centimeters into the earth.
Dust and fragments of broken ceramic scattered into the air.
Staring at the lethal weapon less than half a meter from his body, Mo Wen’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat.
Had he not twisted his body and leapt aside at the last possible moment, narrowly dodging that deadly strike, he would have been nothing but a pulp of flesh right now.
Not just a mere mortal body—no matter how sturdy his armor, even if his physical strength had doubled—being struck head-on by such a colossal killing blade would have meant either death or grievous injury.
“This military automaton... its physical strength must be at least 3.0 on the scale?”
“And it’s still in a worn, damaged state—it’s almost too exaggerated to be true!”
Mo Wen gritted his teeth.
After the initial surge of fear, a fierce determination flared in his eyes.
Indeed, the military automaton’s power was somewhat excessive, but compared to the Black Beast Captain or the Forbidden Doll Kingdom—enemies he had no hope of resisting—there was still a chance to emerge victorious.
Moreover, he was now a dream body; even if he died, three days later he would rise again as a valiant hero.
If he didn’t dare to fight now, how could he survive in this perilous, bizarre world?
Though his thoughts seemed complex, they passed in an instant.
Landing firmly, Mo Wen flexed his legs and began circling the military automaton, who stood at the center.
As he sprinted, he kept the automaton under close observation, analyzing its movements.
“The automaton’s explosive power is fierce, and wielding that steel greatsword makes its attacks even more violent. In a head-on clash, I stand no chance.”
“But it’s not without weaknesses—like right now!”
“Perhaps due to its old, damaged condition, after a burst of power, it has entered a noticeable ‘stiff’ state.”
“Also, the missing exoskeleton greatly reduces its defense.”
“If I can seize this moment of stiffness and destroy the doll’s heart inside its chest, victory might be within reach...”
In this first true battle, Mo Wen’s mind worked more clearly and sharply than he had ever imagined.
No fear, no hesitation—blood pumping, body agile and strong...
Only one belief burned within him: to overcome the enemy blocking his path forward!
Perhaps this was a hidden talent not reflected on his stats—a keen and fearless instinct for combat!
Not everyone is born to fight.
To perform on a first battle what many soldiers take years to master is undoubtedly a remarkable gift.

“Creak, creak, creak...”
The military automaton slowly straightened its back, the faint creaking of strained joints filling the air.
The heavy steel greatsword in its hands lifted as easily as a wooden stick.
Its steps were somewhat slow, but each stride spanned twice that of a normal person, so its actual speed was only slightly slower than Mo Wen’s.
The two circled the four massive stone pillars inside the confessional chamber.
But after only a dozen seconds,
The automaton suddenly halted, knees bending slightly.
In the next moment, it leapt high, swinging the steel greatsword down furiously toward Mo Wen.
The burst of speed in that instant far exceeded its usual pace—an attack identical to the opening move of the battle!
Seeing this, Mo Wen’s surprise turned to delight.
This was exactly what he had been waiting for!
Prepared and alert, Mo Wen easily dodged the strike.
Though the automaton’s jumping smash was swift, it lacked flexibility.
Dust and debris scattered with the tremor.
This time, Mo Wen didn’t retreat but charged forward, boldly closing in to the automaton’s side.
The metal staff sliced through the air, moaning with a sharp whistle under Mo Wen’s grasp.
His mastery of one-handed weapons made the strike even faster.
Finally, the staff struck the automaton’s left chest.
“Thud—”
A sharp metallic hum reverberated.
Mo Wen’s hands went numb violently, nearly losing grip of the staff.
The automaton staggered back two steps.
The hard wood at its left chest caved and cracked slightly, flickering with faint blue-purple electrical sparks within.
But that was all.
“Whoosh—!”
The sword wind howled as the steel greatsword swept horizontally.
Mo Wen’s attack seemed to disrupt the automaton’s stiffness, allowing it to regain mobility sooner than expected.
The heavy blade drew near.

At such a close distance, the sudden slash left Mo Wen no time to dodge.
He had no choice but to grip the metal staff tightly at both ends, raising it in front of him while retreating with his feet.
“Clang—!”
The metal vibrated, and faintly, Mo Wen even heard the staff’s mournful creak.
After all, it was only part of an iron fence, vastly inferior in quality to a finely forged steel weapon.
The terrifying force pressed down on the staff, driving it hard against Mo Wen’s chest.
He spat a mouthful of fresh blood, his body flung backwards like a wounded bird, soaring several meters away.
“Bang!”
The impact of landing sent a jolt through him, blood seeping once more from the corner of his mouth.
Collapsed on the cold tile floor, his palm bled profusely, and the metal staff had bent into a “C” shape.
More seriously, he felt multiple fractures in his sternum and ribs—perhaps some bones were broken.
Pain surged through his nerves as Mo Wen clenched his teeth and struggled to lift himself.
The Heart of the Black Beast activated, special bio-energy flowing to nourish his wounded parts.
Yet, perhaps because he was a half-automaton body, the restorative effect was weaker than expected.
Not to mention full recovery, regaining even basic mobility would take several minutes at least.
This talent was excellent for post-battle healing, but in the lightning-fast heat of battle, it was nearly useless.
Fortunately, though his condition was dire, the automaton on the other side was no better off.
That blow Mo Wen had struck, while failing to break through the automaton’s chest wood, had nonetheless impacted the doll’s heart inside.
Old and battered, combined with external impact and its prior full-power burst, this caused the blue-purple electrical sparks at its chest to crackle and pop erratically.
Its movements grew sluggish, jerky—like a machine with faulty connections.
Carrying its steel greatsword, it advanced toward Mo Wen with stops and starts.
Comparatively, Mo Wen’s loss of mobility made his situation even grimmer.
What to do?
His thoughts raced, desperate to find a way out.
At that moment, a pure white light flickered in his pupils.
The pain inside him faded rapidly, wounds miraculously mending.
Following the white glow, Mo Wen looked toward its source and saw a girl standing at the confessional chamber’s entrance, arms crossed over her chest.