Chapter 19: The Might of Thunder

Jiang Min clutched the Thunder Talisman hidden in her left sleeve. Earlier, when Feng Yu pressed her relentlessly, she hadn’t even had the chance to finish reciting the incantation for this immensely powerful talisman. The Thunder Incantation consisted of several hundred words; she had to seize the moment to recite it in one go, uninterrupted—and Feng Yu must not discover her intent.

This was her final chance.

Feng Yu, surprised at her continued resistance, asked, “Why persist in this stubbornness? You’re still young, there will be many opportunities in the future. If you keep fighting, you’re only inviting further suffering.”

“I know you’re probably hiding a talisman in your sleeve. Don’t bother—something like a Fire Sword Talisman couldn’t hurt me, either.”

“Just concede. There’s no point in dragging this out any longer.”

Jiang Min pressed her lips together tightly. Yes, there would be many opportunities—just not for her. Because Luo Lei and Jiang Ziyi would never give her a moment’s respite. The slightest chance would see them make her pay an unknown price.

As long as she was not yet an outer disciple, every day felt like treading on thin ice.

Besides, she longed to see for herself the dazzling cultivation world of the outer disciples…

“Please, Senior Sister, instruct me!”

Jiang Min raised her arms with effort and saluted Feng Yu. By now, her strength was nearly spent; even speaking left her breathless. Yet her dark eyes shone all the brighter, full of spirit and resolve.

Feng Yu sneered at the sight.

“Very well.”

“I’ll make sure you lose without question!”

She lashed out with her long whip, seizing the initiative and striking toward Jiang Min.

Jiang Min dodged nimbly, stepping through star positions as before, but Feng Yu’s whip was preternaturally agile, swiftly homing in on her. Forced to draw her short sword, Jiang Min parried, wary lest Feng Yu try to snare it. Each block was followed by a retreat, slippery as an eel, fighting desperately for survival in the gaps between lash and shadow.

All the while, Jiang Min gripped the Thunder Talisman, steadily channeling spiritual power into it.

“Heaven and earth are formed, thus comes the thunder; across eight directions it spreads, wondrously revealing its true shape…”

The arena was a tumult of noise, rowdy and deafening. Coupled with her ventriloquized, barely-audible chanting, Feng Yu would never realize what she was doing.

“I truly don’t understand your fixation. No matter what underhanded tricks you try, you can’t break through my defensive artifacts!”

Feng Yu was growing impatient, her whip strikes turning ever more aggressive, forcing Jiang Min into greater disarray. With a flick of her wrist, the scorpion-stinger tip of the whip darted at Jiang Min’s eyes, as if it had a will of its own.

Clang!

The steward on the sidelines nearly rushed to intervene. Jiang Min’s pupils contracted; just in time, she raised her short sword to block the stinger. But it was so sharp that the blade was sliced clean in half, snapping, though the attack paused for just a heartbeat—enough for Jiang Min to tip her head back and narrowly avoid a fatal blow.

“…Thunder becomes void, Heaven shocks and Earth trembles, at the sound it smites, swiftly stirring wind and cloud…”

Again, Feng Yu struck with her whip. Jiang Min dodged, but then the whip lashed around, grazing her arm, tearing her sleeve and leaving a deep, bloody gash that exposed the bone. Blood poured from the wound in sheets.

Jiang Min let out a muffled groan, the pain dimming her vision and nearly breaking her concentration on the incantation.

“…Sweep away all evil, subdue demons and monsters; with Heaven’s might, there is no fear…”

“Junior Sister Jiang!”

From below the stage, the disciples of Flowing Cloud Peak cried out in alarm. If not for the rules, they would have already rushed to her aid.

Zhong Qu’s eyes were tinged with red as he shouted, “Concede! You can’t take another injury!”

Ming Ruoshui, seeing Jiang Min so brutally wounded, clenched her fists unconsciously, her eyes filled with complicated emotion. If only she could be as steadfast as Jiang Min—perhaps…

On the stage, Feng Yu saw that Jiang Min’s dodges were ever slower, her injuries mounting, her weapon destroyed. She sneered to herself. This absurd persistence was bound to end soon. She didn’t fear any of Jiang Min’s tricks—whether open attack or subtle ploy, she was protected by several powerful artifacts.

Still, Feng Yu remained cautious. Why did Jiang Min continue to dodge so doggedly, refusing to concede when she clearly had no means of attacking?

A talisman? A hidden weapon?

Her artifacts could withstand them all.

Suddenly, Feng Yu extended her spiritual sense, probing her surroundings.

“Nothing unusual… Was I overthinking it? Wait, what’s that sound?”

For a fleeting moment, amidst the clamor, Feng Yu caught the faintest whisper, like a mosquito’s murmur, quickly vanishing as if it had never been.

She grew instantly alert. “I’d better end this match now!”

No longer holding back, she poured all her spiritual power into the whip. Crimson flames erupted along the Fire Scorpion Whip as she flicked her wrist, weaving a blazing net of fire that swept toward Jiang Min with overwhelming force.

The effort left Feng Yu pale; the Fire Scorpion Whip was a mid-grade spiritual weapon, and it taxed her third-level Qi Refining cultivation to unleash its full power. Even a fourth-level Qi Refiner would have to avoid its edge.

As for Jiang Min—

Defeat was certain.

The fiery net closed in, driving the pale-faced Jiang Min into a corner of the arena, leaving her no escape.

Seeing Jiang Min about to lose, the Foundation Establishment steward kept a close eye on her, ready to intervene at any moment.

Yet the blood-soaked girl on stage gazed calmly at the wall of flames before her, her eyes reflecting the inferno—brighter, burning with an inner fire.

“…Purple thunder blazing, transforming into myriad forms; heed my summons, respond with spiritual insight.”

A brilliant light flared in her eyes as she shouted,

“By the urgent decree of thunder!”

Crackling.

A surge of violet lightning erupted around Jiang Min, the bolts colliding and weaving together in a piercing chorus. With a thought, she sent a tide of thunder crashing toward Feng Yu, the bolts tearing through the sea of fire in an instant, striking directly at her opponent.

“A Thunder Talisman!”

Feng Yu’s face changed instantly.

Such talismans were indeed formidable, but the incantation was long—hundreds of words—and required a steady infusion of spiritual power throughout, without interruption. How could Jiang Min, supposedly at the second level of Qi Refining, manage this? She had to be at the third level.

As the lightning crashed down, Feng Yu activated all her protective treasures at once. Several layers of spiritual light flared before her, but the thunder smashed through them one by one, about to strike her directly.

At the same moment, the fiery net conjured by the Fire Scorpion Whip reached Jiang Min. She quickly pulled out a Water Shield Talisman and recited,

“True Water, swiftly congeal—shield me from harm.”

Buzz.

A curtain of profound water formed around her, shielding her body. But such a low-grade water shield was no match for the fire net; in a blink, the flames shattered the water curtain and surged toward Jiang Min. Even weakened, the blazing net would still leave her with severe burns if it touched her.

In that instant, Feng Yu understood Jiang Min’s intent.

She meant to trade injury for injury—see who would yield first.

“Maniac!”

Feng Yu’s face was ashen; she had no intention of risking her life against someone so desperate. She shouted at once, “I concede!”