Chapter Fifty-Two: The Unexpected Marvel of Spatial Armament

A head-on sniper battle was out of the question—he was no match. Taking a detour was too predictable, and there simply wasn’t enough time.

Under such circumstances, scaling the edge of the glacier’s crevice was Fang Mu’s only chance to kill his opponent.

He gazed up at the towering glacier and exhaled slowly.

This plan, in truth, sought to exploit a blind spot in the enemy’s thinking.

The incline and height would mean little to close-combat experts of the Silver or Gold ranks. With their speed and strength, a few well-timed leaps would suffice to reach the top with ease.

But for a gunfighter, especially one at the Iron rank, such a feat was nearly impossible!

He lacked the agility of those melee fighters.

Naturally, the gunfighter hiding within the glacier crevice would think the same.

Once this assumption took root, the enemy would pay little attention to this area, focusing instead elsewhere—perhaps scanning the distance for Fang Mu’s silhouette, or glancing back now and then to see if he’d chosen to go around.

Turning the impossible into the possible—that was Fang Mu’s idea of a surprise attack.

He reviewed his plan once more in his mind and exhaled, then drew his tactical dagger and approached the glacier’s base.

He first surveyed the glacier.

Beneath the ice crystals lay solid rock, but years of frozen snow had formed a thick, smooth crust.

Frankly, climbing it would not be easy.

But it was the only way, and he would not let go of it lightly.

Gripping the tactical dagger tightly, he took a deep breath, hesitated no longer, and began his ascent.

The first ten meters were relatively easy; this was the glacier’s lowest point, the slope gentlest, with wind-carved crevices offering natural footholds.

But after ten meters, the difficulty increased.

The incline steepened, and some sections were slick, offering no grip.

Here, his tactical dagger proved invaluable.

One hand gripped an icy fissure, while with the other he stabbed the dagger into the ice.

A chunk of crystal broke away.

Repeating this process a few times, he carved out a handhold.

Fang Mu exhaled and instinctively opened his mouth, intending to bite down on the dagger...

But he paused, startled.

Wait—wasn’t this needlessly complicated? Didn’t he have spatial armament?

Suddenly his eyes lit up. The dagger vanished from his hand. He grabbed the new handhold and tested its strength, a smile spreading across his face.

“Honestly, I can’t believe I forgot about this… With spatial armament, this climb isn’t difficult at all.”

With that, he pushed himself upward.

Above him stretched twenty meters of smooth ice, with few places to grip.

But Fang Mu no longer worried.

After pulling up with his right hand, his left hand produced a tactical dagger, which he drove into the crystal.

Spatial armament, unexpectedly, was of enormous use!

For Fang Mu, what was the greatest difficulty in scaling this glacier?

Not his stamina.

As an Iron-ranked evolver, his physical strength far exceeded that of ordinary men. Even the cold of the glacier affected him little.

The real challenge was the glacier itself.

Its surface was so smooth, with few footholds—no matter how strong he was, without a way to cross these stretches, he could only stare helplessly.

Ordinary climbing would pose significant trouble. His tactical dagger could easily carve out holds, but it was not convenient; he would have to frequently swap the dagger from hand to hand to create new grips.

But with spatial armament...

Everything became simple.

When his left hand found a support, it bore his full weight while his right hand chipped away at the ice to make a new hold.

Once the right-hand hold was ready, he could instantly store the dagger in his spatial armament and easily grab the new grip, shifting his center of gravity.

Then, the dagger would appear in his other hand.

He had effectively eliminated the process of passing the dagger between hands!

This small change more than doubled his climbing efficiency.

And the difficulty shrank instantly.

After a slow start and some distance covered, Fang Mu quickly mastered the technique. His progress sped up dramatically.

Within ten minutes, he had silently climbed to within ten meters of the glacier crevice.

At over 150 meters above the ground, fierce winds howled. Fang Mu clung tightly to his dagger and licked his lips.

The wind outside was so loud that those inside could not hear his movements.

But these last ten meters were critical—his pace slowed considerably. Instead of smashing the dagger into the ice, he began to carefully grind out holds, creating much less noise.

He spent another minute or two on these final meters, and at last reached a position less than a meter from the crevice.

From here, a single forceful leap would send him into the glacier’s gap.

But he held back.

He didn’t even peek through to locate the gunfighter’s position.

He knew all too well what would happen if he did—he would almost certainly be spotted immediately by the wary enemy within.

“All that remains is to wait… to wait for that crucial moment…”

With this in mind, Fang Mu turned his head, squinting into the distance.

There lay the battlefield.

Nearly an hour had passed since Greed Wolf’s ambush.

Yet the battle raged on.

“Your luck’s held. To have lasted this long…”

Fang Mu mused quietly.

His eyesight was insufficient to discern the details over there.

But he could make out the general scene.

Especially Lin Chuyin’s figure, which was clearly visible from his vantage point.

After watching a while, Fang Mu exhaled.

“It seems the time he’s been waiting for is almost here…”

He frowned, staring toward the distant battlefield.