Chapter 18: Trading Wounds for Wounds

The golden crow soared across the heavens.

The contest swiftly approached its fifth round, the final stage of the Azure Cloud Gathering. Now, only twenty labor disciples remained; each was a rare talent selected from thousands, possessing true skill and grit to have carved their way to this point.

If one could claim victory in the last match, the rewards would be enviable: cultivation rights in the Spirit Gathering Valley and a pill to advance one’s cultivation—benefits that could save years of arduous training and leave peers far behind.

Due to the unusual changes in her peachwood branch, she could not absorb demon energy for the moment. Eager to grow stronger and shed her status as a laborer, Jiang Min had come here solely for the prize.

“Artifact Hall, Feng Yu.”

A woman in her early twenties stood atop the platform, holding a fiery red whip. She cupped her hands in greeting to Jiang Min.

Since her opponent announced herself, Jiang Min returned the gesture. “Library Pavilion, Jiang Min.”

She hadn’t expected to face such a formidable adversary in the fifth round.

Feng Yu was among the most difficult labor disciples in this Azure Cloud Gathering. She possessed a wealth of protective treasures, rendering conventional attacks ineffective. The fiery scorpion whip in her hand was a rare, mid-grade fire spiritual weapon, its body lined with sharp crimson scales, its tail tipped with fire poison—any contact meant immediate poisoning.

Feng Yu herself wielded her whip with the agility of a veteran, crushing her opponents with almost overwhelming force. In the fourth round, she swiftly defeated an opponent of equal cultivation.

No one believed Jiang Min could overcome Feng Yu.

Jiang Min still held only a simple short sword, not even a spiritual artifact, which made those below the stage, such as Liu Yunfeng, worry for her.

Qin Gengyun clenched his fists in concern. “She was already struggling in the fourth round, barely scraping victory after a prolonged stalemate. Now, her spiritual and physical strength haven’t recovered. Facing such a powerful opponent, I just hope she won’t be hurt.”

“Junior Sister Jiang is still young. To have reached this stage is already remarkable. Even if she loses to Feng Yu, it will be an honorable defeat,” Zhong Qu sighed.

“Let the match begin!”

On the stage.

Feng Yu looked down at Jiang Min, who was half a head shorter and armed only with a short sword. She sneered coldly, “Blades and swords are ruthless. If you surrender now, it wouldn’t be too late.”

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“This is a rare opportunity to hone our skills. I ask Senior Sister to instruct me,” Jiang Min replied with a smile, her tone unwavering.

“How ignorant,” Feng Yu snorted. She’d seen many like Jiang Min—those who refused to yield until forced. They always believed they had a chance, but in the end, they would have to surrender in disgrace.

She poured spiritual power into her fire scorpion whip, and with a flick of her arm, the whip slithered like a swift venomous snake, leaving afterimages as it lashed toward Jiang Min at breakneck speed.

Jiang Min activated a speed talisman, moving like blue smoke to dodge the whip. Her left hand, hidden in her sleeve, pinched another talisman.

Feng Yu saw Jiang Min only dodging and assumed she was out of options.

She knew Jiang Min was likely at the second level of Qi Refining, without any spiritual weapons, relying on sword techniques and footwork. Either she would attempt to close in for an attack or circle her opponent and win with talismans.

Such cunning girls who made it to the final round were merely lucky.

But Feng Yu was no fool—Jiang Min’s tactics against previous opponents would be useless here!

Feng Yu’s wrist twisted, changing her whip technique. The air filled with the sound of wind being sliced as the fire scorpion whip became a web of lightning-like afterimages, weaving a dense net that pushed Jiang Min toward the edge of the stage.

The long whip, like a meteor hammer, was a flexible weapon, but even more nimble. Jiang Min could not evade it as she had the meteor hammer; faced with the flawless web, she had to step back along the star positions, but Feng Yu pressed closer, about to drive her off the stage and claim victory.

Jiang Min glimpsed the edge of the platform approaching—she could retreat no further. A flash of resolve shone in her eyes as she raised her short sword to block the whip’s assault.

Feng Yu saw Jiang Min attempt to parry with a short weapon and sneered.

“Foolish.”

She flicked her wrist, and the whip’s tail, like a spirit snake, swiftly coiled around Jiang Min’s sword. Feng Yu pulled back, trying to snatch Jiang Min’s weapon—once disarmed, Jiang Min would be at her mercy.

Unexpectedly, Jiang Min gripped the sword tightly, using Feng Yu’s force to leap toward her.

Sensing danger, Feng Yu immediately released the whip’s tail, but Jiang Min refused to let go. She twisted her right hand, sword in hand, drawing a circle and winding the whip from the blade to Feng Yu’s right arm. Then, she bent her elbow, tightening it, wrapping the lower half of the whip around her sword and right arm.

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Feng Yu pulled hard, but the whip wouldn’t budge. As she tugged, the whip’s sharp, cold scales sank deep into Jiang Min’s right arm, staining her gray robes with bright red blood.

“Mmm…”

Jiang Min groaned, her face suddenly pale and sweat beading her brow.

But she showed no intention of withdrawing. Taking advantage of Feng Yu’s immobilized whip, Jiang Min pressed in, raising her heavy arm and thrusting the sword toward Feng Yu’s throat.

Faced with Jiang Min’s reckless exchange of injury for injury, Feng Yu showed no fear. She smiled smugly; when the sword tip was two inches from her throat, a radiant glow suddenly burst from her body.

Buzz!

Jiang Min’s sword struck the glow, and a powerful force rebounded, slamming into her. She grunted, uncontrollably thrown backward, and Feng Yu seized the chance to reclaim her whip.

Bang!

Jiang Min crashed to the ground, pain wracking her body, her right arm numb. Gritting her teeth, she rolled away, narrowly avoiding the glowing scorpion tail that appeared where she’d landed. Had she not moved, the poisoned tail would have pierced her.

Feng Yu, missing her mark, did not pursue, but instead smiled coldly. “Surprised? I have a protective treasure. Even if you get close, you cannot harm me.”

Jiang Min caught her breath, endured the agony, and struggled to her feet, breathing heavily, her face solemn as she stared at Feng Yu.

Her right hand, gripping the sword, hung at her side. Drops of blood fell from her wrist onto the stone tiles.

Drip, drip...

She’d traded injury for a chance to wrap the whip and strike at close range, only to be blocked by Feng Yu’s unknown treasure.

Is victory truly out of reach?