Forty Millenniums of Cultivation

Dozens of self-propelled steam cannons, like dozens of death harvesters that harvest lives and souls, plowed dozens of flesh-flying gorilla trenches on the battlefield, filled with flesh and guts, like dozens of arrows to the fore, hurled hard at the core of the Iron Fist Army battle.

However, in Gus's view, the draining, unstoppable arrows of iron and steel, even if they can penetrate dozens of iron boxers' defenses in a row, are close to the core, slowly and even stagnate, not long after, spraying absolutely abnormal flames and smoke from the inside, collapsing like an awkward toy.

Immediately afterwards, from the remains of these steam giant guns, which are turned into scrap copper and rotten iron, they often fly out of a surrounding golden circle, illusory into various forms of fighting and flaming, powerful, such as the arrival of heavenly soldiers.

Looks like these strong men sometime got inside the steam cannon and blew up the indestructible steel fortress from the inside, easily.

And the source of these mighty...

Gus squinted his eyes and saw at the heart of the Iron Fist Army battlefield, standing on a majestic and glorious high platform.

It was like a pyramid in all directions, a combination of altars and palaces, with a statue of a vivid boxing god at the top of the pyramid, but full of anger and thunder.

At the foot of the statue, a quadrilateral platform, hundreds of high-ranking priests of the temple of boxing, all sitting on their knees and praying with piety.

They have no expression, no calm eyes, no splash at all, as if they had not seen the arrows and shells surrounding them as if they were stormy, and as if they were convinced that under the glory of boxing gods, any enemy was a jumping clown and could not lift a real wave of wind.

With the singing of hundreds of high-ranking priests, the fruit around the pyramid really stirred a visible wave, like a wave of light gold, not only boosted the morale of all the Iron Fist armies around them, but even converged into a light column of light, straight over the dome.

It was as if hundreds of high-ranking priests, with their lives and most devout beliefs, were calling upon the supreme gods in their hearts to pray for the power of the gods.

It's a world of real spirits.

The prayers of the high priests were quickly answered.

Only the blackness was not visible above the sky dome of lightning and stars, accompanied by the constant gleam of the light gold light column, a light gold swirl was slowly generating, soon, a brighter light group than the stars, transmitted down the light column, one by one into the pious high-ranking priest.

“Ahhhhh! ”

Just now, there was no expression, like a mechanical high-ranking priest, screaming softly, the figure soared at the horror speed visible to the naked eye, the skin revealed various metallic shines, and even a complex symbol emerged.

When Horan rose, their momentum was more than ten times higher than it had just been. Unlike normal humans, it was like a moving tower or hill. Faced with steam cannons up to dozens of meters, they could confront each other with two fists blessed by the gods.

“These… bastards have really gained the power of boxing gods! ”

Andrei, who watched the war beside Gus, looked pale.

As a hard and dead believer in mechanical and steam theology, Andrei has always had a nose for many beliefs and legends about the Temple of Fist.

Legend has it that as a high-ranking priest of the Temple of Fist, as long as the faith is firm enough, the body strong enough, and the situation is critical enough - at this time praying as much as possible and willing to pay the price of life, it is possible to direct some of the power of the Fist God, pouring into his body, turning himself into a container of the "power of the Fist God”, the "projection” of the Fist God walking and fighting in the human race.

The human body, of course, cannot bear the power of the boxing god for too long. After the fierce war, even if it is immortal, it will break the meridian and become a cripple.

But even if the power of the Fist God can only be allowed to remain in his body for a second, it is an immense glory to serve the Fist God as the priest of the Temple of Fist with the sole meaning of life.

They don't care about any side effects.

Even if it turns out to be flesh and blood, and ash and smoke, they're happy.

Now, hundreds of high-ranking priests of the Temple of Fist pray wholeheartedly to the Spirit and ask him to give them invincible strength.

Andrei would never have believed in the existence of boxing gods.

Well, even if the boxing god really exists, in front of the mechanical and steaming gods like Asahi Sunrise, it is also the end of a strong crossbow, Mount Nishinishi.

Such beliefs, in the face of cruel reality, are bombarded with holes and shaken.

Dozens of high-ranking priests, supported by the power of the Fist God and transformed into "Fist Divinity", rushed down from the altar.

Every boxing god is a human war machine that is no less colourful than a steam cannon.

With their bare-handed fists and their unmatched fighting temper, they are able to pull off the buzzing steam bullets.

Open the mouth of the blood basin and a thunderous yell can reverse the burning oil of the bear, instead burning the steam army to scream.

Even Gus glanced and saw that a boxing god split up in front of a steam cannon dozens of meters tall and drank it, his arms stuck to the tracks beneath the steam cannon, then suddenly, the fighting was as violent as waves, and the self-propelled steam cannon was lifted backwards.

Steam cannons several stories high, rolling like rocks falling off a cliff.

Millions of steam armies could not escape and were crushed into meat sauce and blood.

Such an appalling scenario is even ten times more damaging to the steam army's morale than blowing up a giant steam cannon with a direct punch.

Of course, the high-ranking priests, who are unscrupulous in their efforts to transcend mankind, pay the price.

A number of high-ranking priests have often burned themselves, or directly turned into a bloody mist, after blowing up thunderbolts and bombarding hundreds of steam troops with one breath.

This is the result of power exceeding limits and data collapse.

But above the altar of the Fist God, there are still many high-ranking priests who pray with devotion, and fewer and fewer giant guns have enough steam armies to pinpoint a hammer.

The morale of both sides is even more like this, the winning balance gradually pours towards the Iron Fist Army side - more and more Iron Fist Army have been called by the true God, as if they were free of pain, and injected with a whole new power like high-ranking priests, and on the steam army side, the hastily gathered U.N. people, after witnessing the powerlessness of the Fist God, have all abandoned their ridiculous beliefs, screaming and hugging the head rats, and fled.