“Impressive!”
Ling Xiao was secretly stunned.
Killing Jiumozhi Yan was clearly no easy task.
Still, he had patience. One failure, try twice. Two failures, try thrice. He would carry that head home.
“Escort the little prince, move!”
The guards sensed an enemy but could not see Ling Xiao. All they could do was shield Jiumozhi Yan with their bodies and keep running.
Ling Xiao dared not strike rashly. His first miss meant the next blow had to be perfect.
So he followed, because that head decided the lives of tens of thousands. He would not give up.
They rode black-crow beasts. He ran on foot.
Neither Shadow Armour nor Shadow Step could hide anything external.
Desert shrubs flashed past on both sides, yellow sand stretched underfoot.
In Ling Xiao’s eyes there was only the stiff-faced Jiumozhi Yan astride his mount.
Jiumozhi Yan now flinched at every shadow.
He had come full of grand ambition, only to fall to a boy younger than himself.
The shock left him reeling.
All he could do was flee.
Flee for his life!
Stop, and he might die.
He refused to die. Seventeen years old, a dazzling future ahead. Death would end everything.
“Lucky my inner force is deeper than most, or I could never keep up.”
Ling Xiao clenched his teeth, cleared his mind, and pressed on. He cared nothing for Jiumozhi Yan’s thoughts. He knew only that without that head, two hundred thousand soldiers and civilians would starve.
Time blurred. Sand slowly gave way to green grassland.
They had entered the Black Crow Empire proper.
A vast desert belt lay between the two empires. Sparse plants dotted the border, but true grass and trees appeared only sixty li inside either realm.
“No wonder my inner force drained so fast. I have chased him all the way into enemy land.”
Ling Xiao stole a moment’s rest, tossed a handful of Heaven-Reversing Spirit Pills into his mouth, and crunched them like roasted beans.
Then he ran again.
At last a shriek split the air.
A black-crow beast.
Jiumozhi Yan’s mount collapsed, foaming at the mouth, unable to rise.
The other guards’ beasts panted heavily, legs folded beneath them.
Ling Xiao had literally run the creatures to death. The memory of his near-mad physical training flooded back.
Today that iron body outlasted even black-crow beasts.
“You lot, take the prince ahead!”
The mounts were spent. The only choice was to buy time.
Unsure of the pursuer’s strength, they left nearly twenty men.
The rest hustled Jiumozhi Yan onward.
Ling Xiao tried Shadow Step to slip past. He failed.
Three among them had reached Eight Desolate Heavens. They felt his movements, blocked him blind.
“Looks like I have to fight.”
Ling Xiao drew a deep breath, pulled the Immortal Fury Divine Lotus from his storage ring, and hurled it.
Each use needed over a day to recharge.
This one was ready.
The lotus bloomed. Of twenty-odd guards, more than a dozen dropped instantly. Eight remained standing.
Against warriors above Six Arts Heaven, its killing power fell short.
“Step aside. I can spare you.”
Ling Xiao released Shadow Step and Shadow Armour.
No point wasting stamina and inner force if he could not bypass them.
He drew the Golden Crow Sword. Against blockers, he would give everything. This was no sparring ring.
There it was one against one. Here it was one against eight, every foe stronger than him.
“It’s him?”
The guards recognised their nightmare, the general who had slain hundreds of thousands.
“Boss, what now?”
Fear laced their voices.
“What choice do we have? The brat’s tricks are deadly. Let him reach the prince and the prince dies. We fight.”
The leader, late Eight Desolate Heavens, forced courage into his words. High cultivation let him speak.
“My target is not you. Stand aside, or never see home again.”
Ling Xiao did not fear them, but he hated delay. If they yielded, he saved time.
“Hahaha, big words!”
An early Eight Desolate Heavens guard could bear no more. He stepped forward laughing. “Boy, you beat us at schemes, but in open battle? You’re nothing!”
“Crane Meng, don’t rush. You alone may not take him. We saw that hidden weapon. Together, and careful.”
“Boss, you rate this kid too high.”
Crane Meng was all fire. Before orders came, he swung twin hammers at Ling Xiao.
Each hammer weighed over a thousand jin, true immortal-grade treasures. Even without inner force they could pulp a beast, let alone a man.
A clean hit would leave not even bone dust.
“Ling Xiao, you cur, repay our million Black Crow brothers with your life!”
Despite the weight, Crane Meng moved like wind.
He leapt high, eyes bulging like bronze bells, then smashed downward.
The falling hammers brought crushing pressure. Air exploded in a chain of sonic booms, thunder in the grass.
Ling Xiao’s brow creased.
Crane Meng was rash, but his strength was real. Though his realm fell short of Wan Qiufeng or Jia Yun, the killing intent forged on battlefields pinned Ling Xiao in place. He could not dodge.
He could only meet the blow head-on.
