Chapter 81: Seeking Life in the Face of Death (0.2)

The spiritual energy within is like a general, while that outside the body is the army. All spells and divine abilities are structured from the internal spiritual energy, then filled out with the essence of heaven and earth. The meridians are like great roads, allowing the general to travel, and the major acupoints are their exits. Of course, there are also winding byways; while these can be traversed, they inevitably suffer damage.

Wu Yue’s current predicament was this: his internal roads were severed, and the exits had collapsed. Though he had countless generals, there was nowhere for them to go—they could only gather at his qi sea.

“You are simply too weak,” Wu Yue said softly. His voice was not loud, but among those present, all were at the Core Formation stage, their hearing preternaturally keen. All looked at this extraordinary young man with surprise.

Taking the opportunity, Hongxiu manipulated her Sword Embryo to release two arcs of sword energy in a crossed formation. This sudden move, however, achieved little; its power was less than a tenth of its former strength, and two opponents facing her directly dispersed the attack.

“There’s no need,” Wu Yue said to the black-clad woman before him, adding, “One palm, one heap.” Hongxiu remembered these words clearly. Once, she had asked him how high his cultivation was. He had merely raised his hand and uttered those four spirit-crushing words: “One palm, one heap.”

A wisp of divine sense broke through its shackles. The new core at his qi sea, condensed from the entirety of his half-step Transcendence stage energy—a unique core painstakingly forged by Yu Dangran—began to slowly rotate. It released a thread-thin current of spiritual energy, which surged unimpeded through his body, reaching his palm.

Wu Yue used no spell. The three major acupoints in his palm collapsed once more. The spiritual energy burst out, laced with a murderous intent that had already transcended the mundane.

It passed by, light as a feather, leaving no trace—like a startled swan’s fleeting glimpse, like a crane’s tracks in melting snow.

The four men fell dead without resistance, their life force extinguished. These were the very foes Hongxiu would have had to fight desperately, yet Wu Yue dispatched them with a mere gesture. Indeed, they were far too weak.

Not far away, Zhuge He watched in utter shock. This “great sect disciple” who seemed so frail—what cultivation had he truly attained? He realized at last that matters had spun utterly out of his control. Zhuge He dared not hold back any longer; a ring of azure spiritual energy surged around him, ready for attack or defense. The two who had been besieging him retreated even further. Zhuge He, for his part, had no mind to continue the fight; with a contraction and release of his azure aura, the two attackers failed to evade, coughed blood in unison, and Zhuge He turned to flee.

“Senior brother, where do you think you’re going? With me here, I will protect you. There’s nothing to fear.” With these words, Wu Yue advanced, blocking the two retreating men’s escape.

Seeing this, the two, who had already harbored thoughts of retreat, were forced into a frenzy. Their spiritual energy surged as they resolved to capture Zhuge He first. One of them even spat out his inner core, binding it to his attack.

Zhuge He’s gaze darkened, his heart racing, yet he could not break free.

“Don’t be anxious, senior brother,” Wu Yue said deliberately, his unhurried manner only heightening the tension. Hongxiu swallowed the Sword Embryo; once dazzlingly brilliant, it now seemed ashen and dim. Yet, it was curious—the veil on Hongxiu’s face remained undisturbed despite the fierce battle. Only the Thunder Scepter, once wreathed in lightning and exuding power and prestige, now showed only faint arcs of electricity. Hongxiu picked up the scepter, a flash of pain crossing her face unseen by any but herself. Such a fine treasure, yet, alas, now in undeserving hands.

Wu Yue came to a halt, content to watch the chaos from afar, much as before. To add insult to injury, he nonchalantly produced a pill and swallowed it, letting the precious medicine from Old Mount Huang heal his recent wounds, utterly unconcerned with the others present.

Unexpectedly, this led Zhuge He to a mistaken conclusion: anyone bold enough to take medicine mid-battle must be gravely wounded. Coupled with Wu Yue’s earlier deceptive cultivation and the flash of crimson Zhuge He had glimpsed when Wu Yue raised his hand, he was all but certain—this young man was grievously injured and could not act recklessly!

Zhuge He charged straight at Wu Yue, even at the risk of being struck down with a single blow. The other two exchanged glances, determination flashing in their eyes, then turned and fled in a blur.

Zhuge He’s speed was astonishing; the azure ring around him blazed with light as he shot toward Wu Yue. In truth, Zhuge He’s judgment was not wrong—Wu Yue indeed had little energy left to resist.

A violet shield rose slowly around Wu Yue, runes flowing across its surface. The azure light struck and vanished in a blink. This treasure, a gift from Li Suizhu, whose name Wu Yue still did not know, saved him once more. Zhuge He, too, charged forward, his azure aura surging, yet met with equal futility. Realizing the futility, Zhuge He decisively attempted to take flight, but had only just risen before falling back to the ground.

Seated cross-legged, Wu Yue raised then lowered his head, a fresh streak of crimson at the corner of his mouth. Reaching to his chest, he found the protective violet spirit orb and a jade pendant—the White Jade Dragon’s Hand, capable of containing a soul. Wu Yue swallowed another pill; of the twelve he had, eight now remained.

Wu Yue stood, walked straight over to Zhuge He—the lucky youth from the mountain village—whose eyes stared wide in disbelief, dying with unfinished business. Wu Yue searched him quickly; as expected, there was no Ninefold Lotus Heart, and the small cloth pouch he first carried contained only a stone.

“Let’s go outside the city. Perhaps we’ll be the mantis stalking the cicada,” said Hongxiu, not questioning further. Still, as in the beginning, if you wish it, I will walk with you—even if it means being the mantis blocking the carriage. This was not love, nor could it be called friendship; it was something far more complex, indescribable by words.

Hongxiu stood before Wu Yue, one hand holding the Thunder Scepter, the other suddenly reaching out to steady him. Wu Yue paused, surprised by this gesture, then turned and smiled. “I’m all right.”

“Aren’t you going to ask if I can fly by sword?” Hongxiu replied coldly. “Hold on tight.” A long sword on the ground shuddered, shot to their feet.

The sword rose, only three feet off the ground, but as swift as lightning.

At the city gate.

Three bodies lay on the ground, but in truth, four had died—three Nascent Soul cultivators, and one who had transcended the mundane, whose bones were already dust. With such a glorious victory, Green Jade Master stood with hands clasped behind his back; none dared provoke him further.

“He’er, you actually died.” It was impossible to tell if Green Jade Master was angry or mournful, as he murmured to himself.

“Your death is of no consequence, but you wasted my painstaking cultivation.”

“Your death is of no consequence, but the murderer dares to walk free.”

“That is of great consequence.” Alone at the city gate, Green Jade Master did not hide or avoid, but waited in silence.

From within the city, a woman approached, flying on her sword.

On this sword, there were two people.