Chapter Forty-Four: Jump!

“Beep beep beep—”

Huang Xiwen hadn’t managed to establish communication with headquarters before Polaris emitted a series of urgent alarms. He tapped the screen, which instantly illuminated with rows of characters.

The satellites launched by the Republic focused mainly on the northern hemisphere, especially the hotspots closely tied to their interests. There were fewer satellites over the southern hemisphere, and the Skychain channels were limited. Real-time video command was out of the question; even simple messages and images needed several relays to reach them.

After only a brief glance, Huang Xiwen’s expression changed. He lifted his head and spoke loudly, “Headquarters reports: three hours ago, a Hercules transport aircraft carrying roughly a company of special forces from the Minya Federation took off from the Sharunu Air Force Base in the Eastern Pacific. Judging by its route, its target is the same as ours—Saint Emperor Bright Island!”

Lei Dong and Wu Yun exchanged glances, a subtle excitement flickering between them.

In this unit, whether it was Huang Xiwen and Song Jingang—the original members of the Furious Dragon Brigade—or Lang Tianyu and Bei Shiliang, who had just joined, all had countless combat experiences. To their knowledge, no matter the opponent, no matter the country, this team had never lost. Seasoned veterans, battle-hardened.

Only the two of them, with the shortest military careers and the least experience, were absolute novices in special operations—having participated in only one real mission, and one had nearly suffered a breakdown from fright.

Now, they were about to face their first true battle since joining the Furious Dragon Brigade—and their adversaries were the special forces of the world’s most powerful military nation.

It was exhilarating.

Lei Dong and Wu Yun moved discreetly, but Huang Xiwen noticed, shooting them a fierce glare. Wu Yun rolled his eyes, Lei Dong pursed his lips, both thinking the same thing: “This guy is getting sharper by the day…”

Huang Xiwen ignored their antics after the glare, barking out, “Headquarters orders!”

The soldiers instinctively snapped to attention with a synchronized movement, watching as Huang Xiwen, resolute as iron, declared loudly, “Overcome all obstacles, race against time, and complete the mission at any cost!”

“Kill!”

Their thunderous shout exploded through the cabin, reverberating high above the earth.

The sound pierced the heavy cabin doors, startling the crew as they entered new coordinates.

Half an hour later, Huang Xiwen sent the battle plan back to headquarters. After careful consideration, approval was granted, along with repeated warnings: above all, safety.

“Gear up, ten minutes to prepare!” Huang Xiwen roared.

“Yes!”

The team swiftly checked their equipment. In their headsets, Huang Xiwen’s voice rang out clearly.

“Mic check, one, two, three, clear, good!”

“One, two, three, clear, good!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

A cascade of affirmations sounded as Diao Fang reentered the cabin, assisting with final equipment checks, his face troubled as he glanced out the porthole.

By now, the aircraft was nearing the outer spiral cloud band of the hurricane. Winds above force seven howled, and the plane began to shake gently. In the pitch darkness, distant lightning flickered incessantly—thin, winding serpents leaping chaotically between sky and sea.

The pilot adjusted course, pointing the nose directly into the wind to reduce speed while keeping engine power steady, hoping to create even the slightest improvement in conditions for the team’s parachute jump.

“Impressive technique!” Lei Dong gave Diao Fang a thumbs-up in admiration.

Diao Fang shook his head, shouting, “You’re the real heroes—may the winds favor you!”

The cabin lights turned red as the rear hatch slowly opened. Diao Fang fastened his safety line and stood by the door, watching the team gather.

Wu Yun looked outside. In the distance, the hurricane’s central vortex cloud mass loomed like a boundless lid, shrouding heaven and earth. Lightning flickered, tearing small rents in the ink-black darkness.

“Damn! A cursed sky—an alien spaceship!” Wu Yun exclaimed. Diao Fang forced a smile, “Is this really the time to clown around?”

The others ignored Wu Yun’s antics, clearly used to his odd behavior.

Diao Fang smiled bitterly again as Huang Xiwen shouted, “Jump!”

Crackling lightning flashed in rapid succession, thunder rolling.

Huang Xiwen was first out the hatch, diving headlong into the dense blackness.

In the intensifying lightning and thunder, the team’s figures quickly vanished into the endless night, disappearing within seconds.

The wind grew stronger, the plane now rocked violently—it had to return.

The rear hatch closed slowly. As the aircraft turned north for its return, Diao Fang gazed through the porthole at the unending darkness, silently praying: “May all be well.”

Lei Dong had parachuted from ten thousand meters before—even in darkness and high winds, it wasn’t his first time. But this was different.

During previous jumps, no matter how poor visibility, his unnaturally sharp eyesight could still discern faint outlines of mountains or plains. But now, above was pitch-black sky, below was an unfathomable sea—no terrain, only darkness. Dense clouds surrounded him, and all seemed to have fallen into a bottomless void, without a single glimmer of light.

Only the howling wind screamed and wailed around him, like the cries of ghosts.

He felt stripped of all senses, unable to perceive anything—not even his usual spiritual awareness, which seemed blocked by the boundless darkness. His body became a drifting leaf lost in the vastness, tossed about with nowhere to rest, or perhaps a stone plunging swiftly into a bottomless abyss.

Seven thousand meters, six thousand, five thousand… Lei Dong’s descent accelerated, the wind roaring ever louder. Finally, at two thousand meters, he tore off his high-altitude breathing apparatus and flung it aside, reached out with his right hand, and deployed the main parachute.

“Zero-zero-one, zero-zero-two, zero-zero-three, zero-zero-four,” Lei Dong silently counted. With a rush, the matte black camouflaged wing parachute snapped open, the lines taut, jerking his plummeting body as if a speeding car had slammed on the brakes.

At the instant his body stopped in midair, his vision, hearing, and sense of awareness returned, and he felt suddenly light.

He looked up. Several hundred meters above, seven glowing dots spread across a wide area—his teammates’ wing parachute indicators.

“Damn it, it’s always the same!” Lei Dong sighed in frustration.

Within the Furious Dragon Brigade’s Third Squad, Lei Dong’s cultivation and skills were undoubtedly the best, but this was also his greatest frustration. The others—whether Huang Xiwen and Wu Yun, who had reached the Foundation stage, or Bei Shiliang and Luo Haoran, still in the Qi Refining stage—couldn’t fly like true immortals, but their internal energy allowed them to perform certain aerial maneuvers, slowing their descent. Even a slight reduction in speed greatly decreased the danger of high-altitude jumps.

Only Lei Dong, whose cultivation was nearly at the Nascent Soul stage, should have been able to glide hundreds of meters at least—even if not truly flying. But thanks to his innate celestial lock and the restrictions his old master placed in him, he had power but nowhere to use it, forced to fall like an ordinary human, straight toward the earth.

Because of this, after every jump, Lei Dong became the butt of his teammates’ jokes.

Was this the most humiliating event in the history of the cultivation world? It was enough to make one weep.

No sooner had Lei Dong finished sighing than Huang Xiwen’s voice came through the headset: “Number Seven, keep watch on the sea, prepare to guide the landing!”

“Got it!” Lei Dong replied irritably, greeted by his teammates’ gleeful laughter.

He rolled his eyes, looked up at the seven glowing dots zigzagging in formation, then looked down to see thick clouds pressed low over the sea, obscuring everything.

“Reporting: wind force about eight, clouds too low, water surface difficult to observe, must break through the cloud layer!” Lei Dong used his throat mic to relay the information, then decisively maneuvered his parachute downward. In his headset, Huang Xiwen’s voice came: “Be careful.”

“Understood!”

Lei Dong replied, swiftly tearing off his cold-weather gear and punching through the clouds, steering his parachute one-handed, infrared night vision pressed to his right eye as he scanned the sea.

His glowing altimeter read 1,500 meters—below the clouds. The sky was still pitch-black, but the sea below now showed a slight change, tinged with blue amidst the darkness. Within the blue-black, a patch of dim brown stood out starkly.

“That’s it!” Lei Dong cheered, pulled out his compass to confirm direction, and shouted, “Ten o’clock, three degrees right, two hundred meters, target confirmed!”

The wind grew fiercer, making parachute control extremely difficult. Lei Dong gripped the control bar tightly, carefully zigzagging his way toward the brown patch, guiding his teammates.

Lightning tore the night sky, thunder rumbled. His headset crackled with static and electrical noise. After a few seconds, Huang Xiwen’s voice came through: “Target confirmed, all units, dense formation, prepare to land! Now!”

In the night sky, seven enormous, bat-like black figures drifted through the roaring storm, heading toward the unknown, tiny island reef.