If only Great Qian could have a prodigy like this too. What worry would there be, then, that it couldn’t rise again.
Chen Zhong slowly retreated into the dense grove. No wonder Senior Shen had been unwilling to leave all this while — it turned out he’d had his eye on that wild boar. Not only could he slay a Thousand Demon Den king, he could shrug the responsibility off cleanly besides. Never mind how rich the harvest — this was no deed an ordinary man could carry out. To strike boldly and slay an extreme-peak demon king before three Spirit-Transformation-realm cultivators — such nerve was enough to shame common men.
“Finally we can leave…”
Chen Zhong let out a breath in his heart. Truthfully, had he gone on watching, his heart really couldn’t have held out much longer.
Just then, he suddenly went wide-eyed. He saw Shen Yi put away the wild-boar demon’s corpse in passing, and then Red Cloud spread beneath his feet. In an instant, he swept, of all things, toward the Zhang Mingyang in the air!
“Gah!”
Chen Zhong clutched hard at his chest.
Aqing’s mouth fell wide open, the white jade in his hand dropping with a clatter.
Could it be the one Grandmaster Shen had his eye on wasn’t the wild-boar demon… but a true Spirit-Transformation cultivator?! Between the two realms lay a gulf as vast as clouds above mud.
If, facing an extreme-peak demon king a moment ago, Aqing could still think up a method — lay out some grand formation to lend a little help — then facing a true Spirit-Transformation cultivator, he could rack his brains dry and still not think of a single thing he might do.
If he couldn’t work it out, then he’d stop trying…
He stood obediently in the grove and looked up at the sky.
The scales on the golden dragon were lifelike, its whiskers streaming; were its whole body, eyes included, not entirely golden, it would have been near indistinguishable from a living thing.
And Zhang Mingyang, who had to face it head-on, felt it more deeply still. The other’s body was not the least bit weaker than a true demon emperor’s, binding him fast now — no matter how the vines tore at it, they still couldn’t shift it in the slightest. The poison-wood treasure-spear condensed from heaven-and-earth’s spiritual qi stabbed madly at the golden dragon. Yet the virulent poison that had left even a demon emperor wary had no effect at all on the golden dragon, and the keen spearpoint could scarcely break its body.
“Roar!”
Along with the dragon’s cry, the shoulder Zhang Mingyang had bitten by the dragon’s maw was chewed straight to pieces. His whole aura withered to the utmost, so much that even his spirit began to swim in a daze.
Must live… This Seat must live!
As a Spirit-Transformation-realm cultivator, how fierce his will to survive — otherwise he could never have joined the ranks of the first-rate strong. He forcibly mobilized his aura once more. A bramble hand-string flew out from his waist, then swelled several times over, abruptly looping about the golden dragon’s neck. The brambles sank into its golden body, wrenching it forcibly apart.
Seizing this instant’s chance, Zhang Mingyang paid no mind to the arm still bitten in its mouth, and simply tore hard.
With a ripping sound, his whole arm, together with the black-and-white robe, was torn clean off. Breathing hard in ragged gasps, he leapt wretchedly downward! A white cloud gathered beneath his feet just in time, bearing him swiftly away into the distance!
“Alive!”
Delight finally welled in Zhang Mingyang’s eyes.
In that instant, a vicious whipping kick swept toward his face, smashing hard into it. The white cloud scattered apart, and under that enormous force, Zhang Mingyang’s whole body was sent flying straight backward. A dignified Spirit-Transformation-realm Perfected Master, now flailing his arm in panic like a mortal, only just managing to steady himself.
He fixed his eyes and looked — and a ghost-fire surged up from the bottom of his heart. Before his path to survival stood a tall figure draped in a black cloak, poised astride a cloud; that kick just now had come precisely from that young man. Red light blazed across the other’s body — plainly still the Mixed Origin realm.
Zhang Mingyang had no time to wonder why, in a situation like this, there’d still be a Mixed Origin Grandmaster daring to lurk and watch nearby. This world had never lacked for the reckless and audacious, all thinking themselves the chosen of heaven’s mandate. What truly enraged him was that a Mixed Origin Grandmaster would dare strike at him, a Spirit-Transformation cultivator — put that reckless notion into actual practice!
Zhang Mingyang formed a spell-art with his one remaining left hand, first mobilizing the qi of heaven and earth to guard himself. Then he looked back at the golden dragon. Without enough aura to sustain it, even a true treasure couldn’t trap the other for long. The golden dragon was on the verge of breaking free.
The corner of his eye swept the ground below — and there the golden dharma form had already flipped over to press the White-Feather Demon Emperor beneath it, smashing fist after fist at its skull!
What a savage way of fighting!
Zhang Mingyang’s eyelid twitched. His earlier flight had plainly offended that Spirit-Transformation golden body. Once the other freed its hands, today would be the day he ought to fall here.
Boom—
A dull, bursting sound startled Zhang Mingyang awake. He withdrew his gaze, and saw the young man who’d been very far off a moment ago had, in the blink of an eye, arrived before him. Cold qi flowed between the two palms. Plainly it was coming for his head.
Luckily he’d made preparation in advance; a thick, sturdy giant tree appeared from nothing, barring the young man’s path — smashed apart by an irresistible fist!
“Hss!”
At an ordinary time, strength like this wouldn’t so much as rouse Zhang Mingyang’s interest to lift an eyelid. But now was different. Feeling the chill rushing at his face, Zhang Mingyang’s expression changed abruptly, and he hurriedly twisted aside to dodge. His five fingers spread, dense wood-thorns bursting out.
The seemingly unremarkable wood-thorns, in the instant they touched Shen Yi’s skin, actually broke through his flesh with ease, revealing the crimson path infant within.
“…”
Shen Yi’s brow twitched faintly, yet he neither dodged nor gave way. To fight Spirit-Transformation with Mixed Origin, he hadn’t many chances to pick and choose. Taking the blow head-on, he arrived before Zhang Mingyang all the same, and abruptly clamped the man’s throat.
The Cold Jade Mysterious Silk Hand was channeled to its extreme. The strongest treasure in all of Great Qian now unleashed its true might. A sky of frost burst from Zhang Mingyang’s neck, then wrapped him wholly within, and contracted — as though clothing him in a garment of ice-crystal.
Even at such a moment, Zhang Mingyang keenly caught the eerie change in Shen Yi’s pupils. Though he knew not what effect it had, he still immediately steadied his spirit-soul and closed his eyes accordingly. This was an instinct born of many years’ cultivation experience. His frost-eroded hand trembled as it formed a spell-art. “Ignorant whelp, die for This Seat!”
The poison-thorns that had shot out abruptly gathered, turning into a thick, large spear that ran Shen Yi through from the back with a squelch. Crimson blood-plasma instantly soaked the black robe.
Shen Yi lowered his eyes slightly and looked at the spearpoint jutting from his chest. He was cautious, but had never feared a contest of raw ferocity. Whether before or now, he cared not whether the one before him was a weasel or a Spirit-Transformation Perfected Master.
Thick peacock red-radiance wrapped his body. Killing-force bloomed across his handsome face.
Shen Yi gripped Zhang Mingyang’s neck, cold qi welling upon his right fist, virulent poison, and a keen azure light besides. In an instant, a fist of vast momentum smashed into this Perfected Master’s brow-bone.
Bang!!
Half of Zhang Mingyang’s face was blasted apart outright. Before he could resist, his stomach took a heavy kick, and his whole body was sent flying backward.
On the remaining half of his face, his eye strained to open wide. In his sight was a savage golden dragon-head looking his way. The dragon opened its jaws in fury and bit straight for him!
At the same moment, the black robe swept across the long sky. Blood stained the corner of Shen Yi’s lips, but his two hands gripped the saber-hilt fast. He drove that straight blade squelching into Zhang Mingyang’s heart!
Breathing hard, his two hands left the saber-hilt. He watched calmly as Zhang Mingyang was wholly chewed and gnawed to ruin by the enraged golden dragon.
(End of Chapter 270)