High Martial: I Use Everything as Swords

Inside the Trading Hall, the air was so thick it was suffocating.

A sense of despair spread rapidly through the crowd.

What little order remained, which had been barely holding on, completely collapsed the moment that blue pillar of light disintegrated.

"Get out of the way! Don’t block the path!"

A Meridian Passage Realm student with bloodshot eyes, holding a thick-backed machete, swung his blade wildly, forcing back two female students who tried to reason with him.

"The gate is right there! We just have to break out to survive! Even fighting the Demon Beasts is better than waiting here to die!"

This insane declaration surprisingly garnered a response from quite a few people. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Dozens of Martial Artists who had lost control of their emotions began to gather. Like a herd of stampeding bison, they charged madly at the sealed stone gate.

"If you don’t want to die, get the hell back!"

Lei Qianjun’s massive frame blocked the stone gate.

His Mad Ape Type Three exoskeleton was already somewhat damaged, crackling with electrical sparks.

Every swing of the giant Warhammer in his hands stirred up a furious gust of wind, forcing back the few people at the very front of the charge.

But he didn’t dare to use lethal force.

These were, after all, his fellow students, not the Demon Beasts outside.

This greatly diminished his deterrent effect.

"Lei Qianjun! You dare block our path to survival? Believe it or not, I’ll kill you!"

Someone fired a cheap shot from the crowd. A Spiritual Energy Crossbow Arrow, flying from an unknown location, grazed Lei Qianjun’s cheek and left behind a bloody gash.

Lei Qianjun wiped the blood from his face. Veins bulged on his forehead in anger, but he was helpless to do anything about it.

The scene grew more and more chaotic.

「In a corner.」

Wang Meng gripped his Alloy Giant Axe with both hands, shielding Su Yue and a few injured members of the Sharp Sword Club behind him.

"Brother Meng, what do we do?"

Su Yue’s face was pale, her fingers flying across a keyboard.

"The Energy Shield’s readings are getting lower and lower. If we don’t find a way to recharge it, it’ll fail on its own in five minutes, tops. We won’t even need that thing outside to do anything."

"Wait a little longer."

Wang Meng’s voice was a bit hoarse, but his bull-like eyes were fixed on the gate.

"Wait for what? To die?"

A boy who had temporarily joined their group whined, his face crestfallen.

"There’s no way Han Feng is coming back. With a fog that thick, even if he’s not dead, he’s lost."

"Bullshit!"

Wang Meng whipped his head around, slamming his Giant Axe onto the ground and sending shards of stone flying.

"My brother isn’t that easy to kill!"

The boy was startled by Wang Meng’s fierce expression. He shrank back and didn’t dare to speak again.

However, more people from the surrounding crowd began to press in on them.

They had their eyes on Wang Meng’s "Safe Zone," either wanting to seek shelter or to rob them of the supplies in their backpacks that hadn’t been turned in yet.

"Hand over your supplies! Since we’re all going to die anyway, what gives you the right to hoard them!"

A crew-cut Martial Artist, his eyes bloodshot with killing intent, surrounded them with three or four of his cronies.

The tip of the long spear in his hand was still dripping with blood—the result of accidentally injuring a junior student during the earlier shoving.

"Out."

Wang Meng spat out a single word.

"So there’s no room for discussion, then?"

The crew-cut Martial Artist sneered. "Since this big oaf doesn’t know what’s good for him, everyone, let’s jump him and take his stuff!"

Wang Meng took a deep breath, preparing to make his move.

「Just then.」

BOOM—!

An ear-splitting explosion erupted without warning at the entrance of the hall.

The heavy granite gates let out a deafening screech as they were blasted open, as if they were nothing more than two flimsy wooden planks.

A violent torrent of air, carrying a thick gray fog, poured inside.

The dozens of people who had been causing a commotion at the entrance bore the brunt of it.

Before they could even register what had happened, the terrifying shockwave sent them flying. They tumbled across the floor like a bunch of gourds rolling on the ground.

The once-raucous hall was plunged into a dead silence.

Everyone froze. Even the crew-cut Martial Artist who had been about to rob Wang Meng instinctively turned his head.

There, in the swirling gray fog...

A figure was slowly walking out.

He was dressed in a tattered black Wingsuit, covered in the slime of some unknown creature and long-dried, dark red bloodstains.

He carried a large military-style pack on his back that was almost half his height, bulging with unknown contents.

He walked very slowly.

With every step, his special-issue military boots made a heavy thud on the stone floor.

THUD.

THUD.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it seemed to pound on everyone’s heart.

As he entered, the desperate atmosphere that filled the hall was forcefully dispersed by the intense, lingering Evil Qi emanating from his body.

"Who shut the door so tight?"

The newcomer looked up, reaching out to remove his scratch-covered tactical faceplate, revealing a face that, while exhausted, held frighteningly bright eyes.

He grinned, showing two rows of white teeth. "Took a bit of effort to get in."

"Han... Han Feng?!"

Wang Meng nearly dropped the axe in his hands, his bull-like eyes wide as saucers.

The hall instantly erupted in an uproar.

No one had expected that the one to burst in at this moment would be the "Lone Ranger" who had been missing for the better part of the day.

"It’s that kid!"

Lei Qianjun gasped for breath, a look of ecstatic relief washing over his face.

"What are you letting him in for! He’s carrying the fog from outside!"

The crew-cut Martial Artist from before suddenly shrieked, a crazed look in his eyes.

"Kill him! He must be a monster in disguise! A Spirit Body could have possessed him!"

Such an absurd statement actually found an audience among the deeply panicked crowd.

A few of the Martial Artists, who had long since been scared out of their wits, looked at the gray mist swirling around Han Feng and actually raised their weapons.