Duan Tianhong looked at the young spearman before him, a mere Mountain-Viewing Realm practitioner.
A trace of shame and rage was added to his already contorted face.
Never in his wildest dreams had he expected to be driven to such a state by this brat.
What he had swallowed was a Blood-Surge Pill he carried for emergencies.
After ingesting this medicine, one could forcefully boost their power by thirty percent for half an incense stick’s time.
Yet the price was severe meridian damage once the medicinal effects wore off, requiring at least half a year of bed rest.
The pill slid down his throat.
A violent torrent of energy abruptly detonated from within Duan Tianhong’s dantian!
In an instant, his eyes turned bloodshot, and the muscles throughout his body swelled to the point of bursting!
His black martial attire creaked under the strain, the seams bursting in several places to reveal skin beneath bulging with thick veins.
The excruciating pain in his right knee was forcefully suppressed by this wild medicinal power.
Regaining his footing, the nine-ring broadsword in his hand emitted a vicious hum far more violent than before.
“Get the hell back, all of you!”
Duan Tianhong roared, and the people of the Azure Dragon Sect retreated in unison at his command.
Muscles corded across his arms as he raised the nine-ring broadsword high above his head.
Violent blade intent poured from the blade, coalescing in the twilight into a blood-red blade aura over a zhang long.
“Blood Saber Nine Forms: Soul Extinction!”
This was his ultimate trump card.
Bearing a heaven-and-earth-destroying momentum, the blade aura cleaved straight down toward Chen Zui’s head!
Wherever it passed, the air was ripped apart into a visible white shockwave!
Pine branches on both sides of the official road snapped cleanly where the blade wind swept past, their cuts smooth as mirrors.
The might of this slash was more than thirty percent greater than any of his earlier strikes.
Even a fellow Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster would not dare meet it head-on.
Chen Zui’s pupils contracted slightly.
He could see that Duan Tianhong was truly risking his life.
The power of this slash had exceeded the scope of what he could counter head-on at present.
Taking it head-on meant death or crippling injury.
Dodging was out of the question—the blade momentum had locked down the area for several zhang around.
No matter how exquisite his Dragon Roam footwork was, it was impossible to evade completely.
In that case, the only option was meeting offense with offense.
Taking a deep breath, the Mountain-Viewing Realm internal energy within him surged into the spear shaft like a river breaching its dam.
The black mist along the spear abruptly surged!
The grim chill of ghost shadow spear intent and the biting frost of wind and snow spear intent intertwined at the spearhead into a rapidly spinning vortex.
At the same time, a warm throb pulsed from his left shoulder.
That was the first wisp of sword qi Liu Yinsheng had left within him.
The sword qi stirred, seeking to protect its host.
Yet Chen Zui did not unleash it.
This was his own battle.
A mere fake Grandmaster propped up by pills was not worthy of making him spend the Sword Saint’s sword qi!
Instead of retreating, Chen Zui stepped forward. His spear slashed diagonally upward from below, the spearhead carving a bizarre yet ferocious arc through the air.
This spear thrust carried none of the violent spectacle of Duan Tianhong’s blood-red blade aura, produced no earth-shattering shockwaves, and did not even make the slightest sound.
All the spear intent on the tip had been compressed to the absolute extreme.
Condensed and withheld.
Only at three cun from the spearhead did it form a point of deep black light so profound it seemed ready to swallow all light.
【Thirteen Ghost Shadow Spears Fifth Form: Seamless Thrust】
This form was the only thrusting technique in the Thirteen Ghost Shadow Spears.
It was also the fastest, most perilous, and most resolute form in the entire spear technique.
“Seamless” meant without gap or delay.
It did not seek the greatest power, only to be faster than the opponent’s killing strike.
Before the opponent’s attack could land upon oneself, strike the opponent first.
Spearhead met blade aura.
Black light clashed against bloody radiance.
Two completely different energies collided in midair!
There was no violent explosion as expected, no flying gravel—only an extremely soft, crisp snap.
Like a needle piercing a sheet of paper.
Chen Zui’s spearhead pierced right through the blood-red blade aura.
Breaking the plane with a single point.
Chen Zui had focused all his spear intent onto that single point at the tip, using the sharpest needlepoint to pierce the blade aura’s weakest energy node.
The blade aura split to flow past both sides of his spear, gouging a deep trench over a zhang long into the official road behind him!
And at this very moment, his spearhead had already arrived before Duan Tianhong.
Duan Tianhong’s pupils shrank violently as he hurriedly brought his blade across to block.
The spearhead tapped against the blade’s surface, and a bone-chilling spear intent penetrated straight through the metal to pierce his heart meridian.
He felt as if a slab of ten-thousand-year-old glacial ice had slammed into his chest; the blood throughout his body momentarily froze.
The violent energy stirred by the Blood-Surge Pill was forcibly severed by this spear intent!
With the medicinal power rebounding upon him, a sweet taste rose in his throat, and a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed from his lips!
His entire body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily onto the official road!
The nine-ring broadsword slipped from his grip and flew away, clattering into a pile of gravel three zhang out.
The four elders and dozens of disciples watched their sect master go from violently bursting with power to spitting blood and flying backward; for a time, they were completely frozen in place.
A deathly silence fell over the valley.
Chen Zui drew back his spear. A few drops of Duan Tianhong’s blood still clung to the spearhead, appearing stark and dazzling against the twilight.
He glanced down at Duan Tianhong on the ground, then looked up to scan the Azure Dragon Sect disciples, who were too afraid of hurting their leader to make a move.
“Your old sect master’s backbone was long squandered away by this fake leader of yours.”
Resting the spear back on his shoulder, he turned and strode toward the valley exit.
After taking a few steps, he paused and tossed back a remark without looking:
“Before I change my mind, take your sect master and get lost.”
The mountain wind swept through the valley, whipping his robes with snapping flaps.
Behind him, the disciples of the Azure Dragon Sect exchanged bewildered looks.
After several breaths, someone finally recovered from the shock. Flustered, they helped the semi-conscious Duan Tianhong up and dragged him, along with the nine-ring broadsword, into the depths of the dense forest.
In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, dozens of people had withdrawn completely.
All that remained on the official road was that deep trench over a zhang long carved by the blade aura and gravel strewn everywhere.
As Chen Zui reached the valley exit, a system notification chimed in his mind.
【Host detected defeating Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster Duan Tianhong. Experience Points +350】
【Host detected completing the clearing of Azure Dragon Sect ambush quest. Additional Reward: Experience Points +200】
Listening to the flurry of ticking numbers in his head, the corners of Chen Zui’s lips slowly curled up.
He felt the small celadon bottle in his bosom, then glanced at the location of the Quchi point on his right arm.
The last remnants of the sunset fell upon his youthful face, tinting those clear, sharp eyes in a warm gold.
...
After the Furnace-Listening Pavilion’s convoy passed through Yixian Gorge, the official road gradually widened.
Yet the mountains flanking both sides grew increasingly steep, with sheer cliffs like carved walls and dense pine forests.
When the mountain wind blew through the gorge, it let out a mournful weeping sound, as though someone were softly sobbing in the far distance.
The old man surnamed Qi remained seated upon the open baggage wagon, the long saber resting horizontally across his knees.
His eyes were half-lidded as if dozing, but his hand gripping the saber had never relaxed.
The carriage wheels rolled over a piece of gravel, causing the wagon to jolt slightly. He did not even lift an eyelid, merely brushing his thumb gently against the scabbard.
It was too quiet.
This stretch of the road was simply far too quiet.
At this moment, far from relaxing, the expressions of the eight martial artists in martial attire grew increasingly grim.
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