Chapter Sixty-Eight: Narrow Escape from Death

In truth, I could have easily killed that second-rank Leaf Spirit, but to prevent him from raising an alarm, a sneak attack was preferable.

As the sound of footsteps blended with the rain grew steadily closer, I channeled my spiritual energy into my left hand, ready at any moment to summon the Snow Blade. Through the heavy downpour, I could just make out Chen Chen and Li Zijian, who had already drawn their weapons.

Silently, I counted in my heart, “One second... two seconds... three seconds...” When I reached the fifth second, I burst out from behind the tree, summoning the Snow Blade in an instant.

Before the man could react, I clamped a hand over his mouth and plunged the blade into his chest. The strike was not fatal, and as I prepared to finish him off, Chen Chen and Li Zijian rushed out from behind the tree. Li Zijian, being the quicker of the two, slashed his throat in one swift motion.

After dispatching him, we dragged the body beneath a tree and concealed it with a few branches.

“Keep moving,” I whispered, and the three of us continued making our way out of the woods.

But we had only gone a short distance when a shout erupted behind us: “Old Bull is dead! Over here! I see them...”

A string of curses raced through my mind, but there was nothing to be done—one pair of fists cannot fend off four hands. Our only option was to run.

We immediately broke into a desperate sprint. With my cultivation level now higher, I felt as though the wind itself was beneath my feet. Fortunately, our pursuers lagged behind for the moment, but Chen Chen and Li Zijian were quickly growing breathless and weary.

Sensing the approach of several spiritual energies drawing ever closer, I knew we had no time to rest. I pressed a hand to each of their backs, transferring some of my spiritual energy to them.

“Thanks, Brother Yao. I’m not tired anymore...” Chen Chen gasped.

I nodded, urging them onward, and together we fled.

By sharing my energy, we managed to escape the forest. We barely paused to catch our breath before dashing off in a new direction.

Yet I could sense someone of a cultivation level equal to mine pursuing us. It had to be Hua Ling.

As far as I knew, I bore no grudge against Hua Ling, so I couldn’t fathom why he was so bent on my death.

Running endlessly was futile; eventually, he would catch up. Better to trade one for one than three for one!

“You two, run—find somewhere to hide. If I don’t return, go after the Corpse Ghost yourselves. Now go!” Without waiting for their agreement, I shoved them both away.

“Go!” I said, then stood my ground, gripping the rain-soaked Snow Blade.

Hua Ling was fast—within two minutes, he was ten meters away. He seemed surprised to find me alone, but quickly drew his twin blades.

“You’re my only enemy left. Kill you, and I’ll be the strongest in the group,” he declared.

With that, he wasted no more words and charged, blades raised.

I quickly summoned the Snow Blade to parry his onslaught.

I had thought he was just a brawler, relying on brute force, but to my surprise, he had also learned some basic swordsmanship. Coupled with his strength, he pressed me hard.

“Stop struggling—just die,” Hua Ling taunted as he attacked.

“It’s only just begun. Cut the crap!” I shot back, which seemed to enrage him further.

We clashed in the pouring rain, weapons striking with sharp clangs, thunder rolling overhead.

Unable to gain any distance, I defended with one hand and formed a spell with the other.

A second later, a Five Spirits Art surged forth, striking him squarely in the chest.

Curling my lips into a smirk, I assumed the attacking stance of Bajiquan.

Before he could steady himself, I closed the gap with the Six Star Step.

“Flood Dragon Surges from the Sea!” I shouted—a killing move my second uncle had taught me, rarely revealed to anyone.

This punch required me to bend low, channeling force from waist and legs to explode upward.

With a dull thud, my fist struck his jaw, sending him staggering back two steps.

“You... impressive...” he muttered, his shame and fury plain as he ignored his pain and attacked again.

I braced for his renewed assault, but suddenly sensed several other spiritual energies converging from behind.

Whoever they were, they were out for blood.

With enemies before and behind, I could only leap high, hoping to evade the attack.

Yet Hua Ling’s twin blades still managed to slice into my calf.

Losing balance in midair, I crashed heavily to the ground.

Gritting my teeth against the agony, I wiped the rain from my eyes to see who had attacked.

I had expected Hua Ling’s henchmen, but instead, four Corpse Ghosts stared back at me. Two launched themselves at Hua Ling; the other two advanced on me.

Panting, I scrambled to my feet, ready to fight.

Fortunately, these two Corpse Ghosts were only second-rank Leaf Spirits—not especially powerful.

But with both legs injured, I was at a disadvantage, suffering several slashes in quick succession.

Stealing a glance at Hua Ling, I saw that he had already dispatched one Corpse Ghost and was locked in fierce combat with the other.

Meanwhile, the two attacking me knocked me to the ground again.

Suppressing the searing pain in my calves, I lashed out with a kick, sending one Corpse Ghost flying. But the other seized the opportunity to stab a blade into my shoulder.

With a roar, rage surged through me. In a fit of wrath, I hacked off the attacking Corpse Ghost’s leg and plunged my blade into its chest.

I staggered to my feet, lunged at the remaining Corpse Ghost, and with a swift stroke, took off its head.

I realized, not for the first time, that some mysterious force had aided me—without it, turning the tables so easily would have been impossible.

Across the field, Hua Ling finished off the last Corpse Ghost, but he was grievously wounded—one arm severed, the sight horrifying.

Though my legs were injured, I still retained some fighting strength, unlike Hua Ling.

Seizing the advantage, I pressed in and hacked at him with all my might.

He tried to parry, but with only one arm, he was no match. His blade shattered, and with one final blow, I decapitated him.

Wasting no time, I limped away as fast as my wounds allowed.

With both legs badly injured, each step was a struggle. I slowed, finally taking refuge in a small, hidden structure to escape the rain. No one found me there.

From my ring, I produced some tattered cloth and hastily bound my wounds.

Perhaps due to severe blood loss, darkness claimed me and I lost consciousness.

As soon as I blacked out, the white orb within me began spinning wildly.

In an instant, most of my injuries were healed.

Luckily, the wounds in my calves had missed the bone—otherwise, recovery would not have been so swift.

...

After more than an hour, a tickle in my throat woke me.

This time, I felt completely restored, without the slightest discomfort.

Elated, I touched my wounds, stood, grabbed Snow Blade, and dashed back into the pouring rain.