“There shouldn’t be any problem. No matter how many Headtaker Ghosts there are, with that insane set of armor, they can’t possibly hurt Baron Dalton.” Another person spoke up to reassure them.

  “Time’s up, let’s go.” The temporary squad leader, Baron Stone, gave the order, and everyone had no choice but to grit their teeth and charge toward the altar.

  Eight squads rushed toward the altar from different directions. The Headtaker Ghosts immediately fell into chaos. Taking advantage of the confusion, the heavily armored Baron Dalton charged straight for the altar. Along the way, he gave a small demonstration of his power—supported by his formidable gear, he easily cut down more than a dozen Headtaker Ghosts blocking his path, while those ghosts couldn’t even scratch him. The sight greatly boosted everyone’s morale.

  Seeing Baron Dalton charging like a tiger, wielding a blade and shield as he sped toward the altar, any Headtaker Ghost that tried to block him was either sent flying by his shield or decapitated by his blade. No one could stop his advance. The crowd cheered, fighting the Headtaker Ghosts around them with renewed vigor.

  Baron Dalton heroically broke through the blockade of Headtaker Ghosts and actually made it onto the altar.

  Atop the black-and-red altar covered in runes, a pillar of light shot skyward from its center. Headtaker Ghosts were resurrecting from the stone pillars at the altar’s edge. And there, a three-meter-tall, blood-red, demon-like Skullsplitter Ghost, wielding a giant axe, glared at Baron Dalton with bloodshot, fiendish eyes as he charged up the altar.

  “Screw you, go to hell!” Baron Dalton spat, let out a wild roar, and charged at the Skullsplitter Ghost.

  The Skullsplitter Ghost’s massive body was anything but clumsy—its movements were as fast as lightning. Baron Dalton had only just seen it raise its giant axe when the weapon was already upon him, crashing down on his head.

  There was no time to dodge. Baron Dalton could only grit his teeth and brace his shield to take the blow head-on.

  “Boom!”

  After a thunderous crash, Baron Dalton was sent flying back dozens of meters. His shield, considered top-tier even among barons, now had a crack running straight through its center—just a bit more and it would have been split in two.

  Everyone who witnessed this scene cried out in shock. Baron Dalton himself turned ashen. Such a superb shield, ruined by a single blow from the Skullsplitter Ghost—its terrifying strength far exceeded everyone’s expectations.

  But Baron Dalton had no way out. He could only toss aside his shield, grip his blade with both hands, and charge forward with grim determination.

  The outcome was brutal. The set of gear everyone had pinned their hopes on was no match for the Skullsplitter Ghost. It was hacked to pieces as easily as cutting through tofu.

  In the end, Baron Dalton only managed to throw his great blade, leaving a superficial wound on the Skullsplitter Ghost’s arm, before he was hacked to pieces by a flurry of axes, blood splattering all over the altar.

  Everyone felt their scalps tingle and their legs go weak. The Skullsplitter Ghost’s overwhelming power filled them with despair. Baron Dalton was already one of the strongest among them, and with that luxurious armor, he was still cut down in just a few blows. In an instant, everyone was plunged into the depths of hopelessness.

  “It’s over, it’s all over. We’re all going to die here!”

  “No matter how powerful the gear, it’s useless. This isn’t even a fair fight—the Skullsplitter Ghost is definitely a terrifying viscount-level being.”

  The crowd was stunned, even forgetting to run. Even if they tried to escape now, what good would it do? In the end, they’d still be killed. If they couldn’t reach the altar, everything was pointless.

  Edward White fixed his fiery gaze on the Skullsplitter Ghost howling at the sky atop the altar, his eyes focusing on the wound left by Baron Dalton’s thrown blade.

  “Baron-level gear can injure the Skullsplitter Ghost, which means its flesh isn’t all that tough. The Lingluo Sword should be able to kill it. But the Skullsplitter Ghost is just too fast. At my current speed, even if I use Blade Step, I probably won’t be able to dodge its attacks. Facing it head-on is certain death.”

  While everyone else was retreating, Edward White moved against the flow, heading toward the altar.

  “Now is the only chance. If I don’t go, I’ll definitely die.” Edward White understood even more clearly: right now, the Headtaker Ghosts were distracted and scattered by the others, giving him a chance to reach the altar. If he didn’t go now, these people would never have the courage to try again. By then, the Headtaker Ghosts would all be gathered in front of the altar, and he wouldn’t even have a chance to make a run for it.

  “What are you doing? Hurry up and run!” Someone from Edward White’s squad, seeing his strange behavior, shouted loudly.

  “Are you deaf? Are you out of your mind?” Seeing Edward White still heading for the altar, someone else yelled.

  “Forget about him, let’s just run for our lives.”

  Ignoring the others, Edward White focused all his attention on the altar. Every step he took was calculated with precision—he had to reach the altar as fast as possible while conserving enough strength to face the Skullsplitter Ghost. But unlike Baron Dalton, he didn’t have that luxurious armor to ignore the Headtaker Ghosts’ attacks. His only assets were Blade Step, the Pain Blade technique, and the Lingluo Sword.

  Amidst the Headtaker Ghosts, Edward White drifted like a phantom, weaving left and right, slipping through the ghostly horde at impossible angles—several times squeezing past them with barely an inch to spare.