Inside the Mountain-River World, Butterfly Girl flitted in frantic circles, wings humming with worry, begging to be let out.
Ling Xiao kept the gate shut.
True, the instant she appeared, the fight would end in a heartbeat.
But he knew the price: every crutch dulled the edge. Rely on help too often and fighting spirit rusts, sword intent fades, confidence leaks away like blood from a cut vein.
These foes could be beaten.
It would just hurt.
So Butterfly Girl stayed benched. Not yet her stage.
Blood poured from his wounds, yet the moment it touched air it vaporised, feeding the crimson haze of killing sword intent.
The more he bled, the brighter the fire burned.
Left hand clamped the spear shaft. A glacial grin split his face.
“Madman!”
The captain had never met a fighter like this. Real fear wormed into his gut.
Fear poisons the martial soul.
Behind him, the giant black crow shrank and whimpered.
“You are beneath me.”
Ling Xiao smiled, then unleashed the strike he had nursed for half the battle.
Taotie Doomsday!
One slash.
Heaven reeled.
One slash.
Gales died.
Taotie roared out of the dark, unstoppable, jaws wide.
No blocking it.
The captain was a veteran. Veterans feel death coming.
Run!
He spun and bolted, every thought of resistance erased.
Failing to kill Ling Xiao before the charge had built, that was the mistake that signed his warrant.
“Die!”
ROAR!
Gone.
The captain’s body disintegrated under Taotie Doomsday. Only rags fluttered in the cyclone.
A late Eight Desolate Heavens warrior, scourge of a hundred battlefields, erased by a sixteen-year-old.
This duel: one Ling Xiao versus seven elite guards.
Five Seven Star Heavens, two Eight Desolate Heavens, all dead by his hand.
Only one remained, knees in the dirt, shaking so hard his armour clattered.
“Your turn. Want to join them?”
Ling Xiao’s voice was soft, amused.
“I don’t want to die!”
The man shook his head like a rattle.
“Then talk. What filthy deal ties the Black Crow Empire to the Divine Phoenix? What bargain spawned this war?”
Ling Xiao had never bought the surface story. Gods quarrelling, mortals bleeding.
He wanted the contract, the names, the price.
“I swear I don’t know!”
“Then die ignorant.”
Ling Xiao almost laughed at himself. Why grill a foot soldier when the prince himself was steps ahead?
One thrust. The guard folded, lifeless.
Ling Xiao yanked the spear from his own flesh, swallowed a Rejuvenation Pill, and ran.
New plan: take Jiumozhi Yan alive.
A live tongue wags; a dead one stays shut.
No more holding back. He was half dead already. Against Jiumozhi Yan’s last wall, he needed Butterfly Girl.
But timing was everything.
A half-step Yin-Yang master guarded the prince. Cold Plum had failed against that same shadow.
So Ling Xiao baited the trap with his own body.
Wounded, slow, loud, perfect lure.
The chase became a stroll.
No mounts for them, full speed for him. The whole skirmish had lasted less than fifteen minutes.
Half an hour later he caught the column.
No stealth. Bait must shine.
He opened Soul Verdict, God’s Tomb.
A titanic gravestone rose. Out strode the undead.
An eight-metre skeleton centurion, Eight Desolate Heavens peak, shield and dagger gleaming.
Behind it, a century of rattling skeleton infantry, mere First Line Heavens, axes high, bones creaking.
The little ones were cannon fodder; the centurion was the hammer.
Ling Xiao perched on its shoulder, charging.
Eight Desolate Heavens skeleton plus Scarlet Sun Cones and Shadow Cones, everything except the Yin-Yang guard melted.
The great shield slammed down. Five guards became paste.
Size has privileges.
Ling Xiao lobbed cones like candy, eyes locked on the prince.
The moment the half-step master left the boy’s side, Butterfly Girl would descend.
It had to happen. No escort could survive this blender.
At the same time he sang the battle hymn Yue Fei’s “Manjianghong”. Red light bathed every bone. Strength doubled.
Slaughter commenced.
Black Crow guards dropped in heaps.
“Take the prince ahead!”
At last the half-step master roared.
He spurred his crow-beast, levelled his lance, and thundered toward the skeleton centurion.
Ling Xiao flashed a grin, Shadow Step, gone from the shoulder.
BOOM!
One lance.
Paper tiger.
The mighty centurion exploded into gravel. Not one bone left whole.
