Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 115: Assault

The prison cart continued forward, its wheels grinding against the gravel, producing a monotonous and grating creak.

The mountain path grew increasingly rugged, with sheer cliffs on both sides like the fangs of a giant beast, slicing the sky into narrow strips.

The wind began to change.

"With acting skills like this disciple's, back in my day, it would have been a waste of talent if he only won a Golden Rooster Award for Best Supporting Actor." Lin Yu's internal monologue carried a touch of lightheartedness, finding joy amidst hardship.

"Look at your current appearance: sallow and emaciated complexion, unfocused eyes, and a faint trace of drool hanging at the corner of your mouth. Perfect! You're practically the twin brother of that gambler!"

Su Ming did not respond. He merely huddled himself tighter, as if trying to wedge himself into the corner of the prison cart.

His senses, however, operating under the circulation of the Greenwood Longevity Art, were heightened to their limit.

The sound of the wind, the sound of water, the low roars of unknown beasts in the distance, even the heavy breathing of the great bandit beside him—all clearly reached his ears.

"Something's wrong ahead." Wei He's voice, thunderous like an explosion, suddenly rang out.

He reined in his horse. The magnificent Northern Border warhorse pawed the ground uneasily.Almost simultaneously, the forty Northern Border Army soldiers gripped the hilts of the swords at their waists, their gazes sweeping the surroundings like hawks.

Their movements were uniform, without a single superfluous sound, only the faint rustle of clinking armor plates.

This was the instinct honed by elite veterans of a hundred battles.

"Boss, fog is rising." The vice officer's voice was tinged with vigilance.

Ahead, in the valley, a dense white fog could be seen rolling and surging forward at a visible speed.

The fog came too fast, too bizarre, completely defying the laws of nature.

"This is no ordinary fog!" Wei He's scarred face contorted. From this fog, he smelled the scent of death.

"Ambush! Form a circle formation! Protect the prison cart!" Wei He's roar echoed through the valley.

But it was already too late.

The thick fog, like a burst dam, instantly swallowed the entire convoy.

One couldn't see their own hand in front of their face.

Comrades who were clearly visible one moment vanished into the thick white fog the next.

Sounds also became muffled and indistinct, as if wrapped in a thick layer of cotton.

Panic began to spread among the soldiers' hearts.

array!" Su Ming

Array! A low-tier auxiliary array, but for ordinary mortals, it's an inescapable net!" Lin Yu's voice was

At that very moment!

"Swish—"

of something cutting through the air flashed

after, came the dull thud of a body hitting the

A soldier let out a short, sharp scream that was abruptly cut off, as if an invisible hand had seized his

"Old Third!"

"What was that?!"

He's roar carried a trace of suppressed shock

out from

a muffled grunt and the extinguishing of

a fight; it was

Black Rong iron cavalry on

swung his long saber, the blade wind howling, but it only sliced through clumps of empty,

he roared

him was a flash

He's roar was cut short. He lowered his head, looking at the bowl-sized bloody hole in his chest, his eyes filled with unwillingness and

body collapsed with a

the soldiers' psychological defenses completely

the thick fog, only desperate

in Su Ming's eyes, only the calm

operation of his spiritual energy, the seemingly sturdy

the slightest hesitation, he rolled, taking cover behind a half-man-high boulder beside the prison

a blind spot in the field of

Aura Concealment Art, lowering his own aura to the minimum,

was

a soldier that had just fallen not far

gurgling from the

Ming's eyes, but it was instantly replaced

over, reached out his hand, and without hesitation,

over his own face, neck,

of blood instantly

it tightly to his chest, curled his body

his eyes, adjusted his breathing, and

aura, even his posture, he was indistinguishable from a prisoner who had just been tragically caught and killed

had become a perfect "background

tore through the deathly silence of

"Whoosh—Bang!"

at the top of the dense fog,

A signal flare!

bribed, with his last ounce of strength