Chapter Sixty-Six: Heavy Blow

“How is this boy so fast with his strike?”

Standing atop the head of the One-Horned Dark Serpent, the previously smiling Heishui Wujiao suddenly tensed like a startled old cat, utterly shocked as he stared at the sword in Ji Hao’s hand, from which wisps of smoke rose.

Heishui Wujiao was very familiar with the style of that sword.

Whenever a warrior of the Darkwater Black Serpent Tribe broke through to the rank of Grand Shaman, the tribe would gather dozens of metals, forge a hundredfold essence in the sacred spring’s freezing waters, and have the Grand Priest inscribe shamanic runes. Thus would they craft weapons capable of cutting gold and iron, killing without staining the blade with a drop of blood, as a reward.

The sword in Ji Hao’s hand was precisely the one seized after the Darkwater Black Serpent Tribe’s failed raid on Cold Stream Valley some days ago, when Ji Xia gravely wounded one of Heishui Wujiao’s cousins and took his sword.

Yet in Ji Hao’s hands, the sword seemed to come alive, moving with astonishing agility and speed. When the sword’s light flashed, even Heishui Wujiao could only catch a glimpse of the dazzling blade before it pierced through Jiang Yao’s chest.

“If this boy had struck at me, I... I likely could not have dodged that attack completely!” Weighing his own reflexes against that terrifying sword, Heishui Wujiao broke out in a cold sweat.

Ji Hao was only a young shaman who had just awakened his bloodline power, yet his swordsmanship was already so fearsome.

If allowed to grow, he would surely replace Ji Xia, becoming yet another nightmare for the Darkwater Black Serpent Tribe—in truth, for the past thousand years, Ji Xia’s family had been nothing less than a recurring nightmare for them, clinging to them like parasites on bone!

The Darkwater Black Serpent Tribe had sacrificed and struggled greatly to wipe out Ji Xia’s brothers and elders one by one; now only Ji Xia and his son Ji Hao remained. Seeing Ji Hao’s terrifying potential, Heishui Wujiao could not help but roar furiously at the sky.

Why was such a child not born of their tribe?

Stomping hard, the One-Horned Dark Serpent let out a sharp hiss, its massive body rising and surging forward, opening its maw to spit a blast of black-blue icy breath at Ji Hao.

Leaping from the serpent’s head, Heishui Wujiao drew his sword, black mist surging around him, as sparkling black snowflakes drifted from his side, ringing crisply as they landed. The forest for miles around was swiftly frozen. Wielding a sword identical to Ji Hao’s, Heishui Wujiao unleashed a black beam of frigid energy from its tip, stabbing fiercely toward Ji Hao’s left shoulder.

If this sword struck true, it would pierce Ji Hao’s shoulder and stab directly into his heart, killing him instantly.

“Die!” roared Chijiao, the Grand Shaman of the Fierce Ghost Tribe, who was pursuing Ji Hao. Raising his massive wooden stake overhead, he brought it down in a rush of wind, intent on smashing Ji Hao to pieces. The warriors of the Fierce Ghost Tribe were savage by nature; Chijiao cared only for killing Ji Hao, not caring that his attack would also engulf Jiang Yao.

Ji Hao’s sword vibrated violently in his hand, ringing with a clear, metallic cry.

The Nine-Word True Mantra connected with the universe, drawing upon all the world’s power for one’s use. Ji Hao activated the unique shamanic runes of the Black Serpent Tribe upon the blade, pouring his own shamanic power into it.

Two utterly opposed yet mutually entwined forces—one cold, one hot—danced gleefully along the blade, coalescing into black and red sword lights spinning like windmills. As the blades spun, Jiang Yao’s chest was torn apart, blood spraying—some freezing into ice, some steaming hot.

Jiang Yao, face twisted in agony, stared at Ji Hao. Coughing blood, she asked in disbelief, “How did you... The soul-summoning art of the Wraith Tribe, presided over by the Grand Priest herself—not even Ji Xia could have resisted it...”

“I’m not my father!” Ji Hao muttered, answering obliquely. He drew his sword free and, with a cold gleam, swung it at Jiang Yao’s neck. “Jiang Yao, you should have died long ago. Aren’t you tired of this endless entanglement?”

Jiang Yao gave a strange, grim smile, gritting her teeth. “Ji Hao, I’ll remember you! You almost killed me—I’ll remember this!”

A red jade talisman at her waist exploded in blinding flame, enveloping her. A one-legged Bi Fang, a divine firebird, rose from the fire, its hazy form wrapping around Jiang Yao as a streak of fire shot skyward.

“Life and Death Needles—kill!” Ji Hao bellowed hoarsely, spitting a mouthful of blood and pointing fiercely at the fire-enshrouded Jiang Yao.

Three black needles shot from Ji Hao’s mouth like bolts of black lightning, piercing through Jiang Yao’s protective flames. Three shamanic acupoints between her chest and abdomen exploded with blinding light, black blood gushing forth like a fountain.

“Life and Death Needles! Qingfu’s heirloom shamanic treasure—why do you have it?” Jiang Yao screamed, her voice hoarse. The Bi Fang shrieked, transforming into a stream of light that carried her through the clouds, vanishing from sight.

All this happened in a flash: Heishui Wujiao’s sword was still seven or eight feet from Ji Hao, and Chijiao’s stake over ten yards away, yet Ji Hao had already gravely wounded Jiang Yao, forcing the life-saving jade talisman gifted by Jiang Bo to activate and whisk her away.

“Little bastard!” Heishui Wujiao cursed, black mist thickening around him. His sword vibrated, sending forth a terrifying chill; within miles, every plant and tree was enveloped in thick dark ice. As Heishui Wujiao flicked his wrist, the ice exploded, sending a cold glare skyward, while the towering ancient trees shattered into countless icy shards.

Countless ancient trees were pulverized; yet, eight or nine miles distant, two towering trees remained untouched.

Not only that, but these two ancient trees suddenly opened wide mouths and let out deep, furious roars. Two blazing green lights shone from their massive trunks, staring intently at Heishui Wujiao like eyes.

“Millennium Tree Spirits?” Heishui Wujiao broke out in a cold sweat, recognizing the two as ancient tree monsters at least ten thousand years old. The temper of these tree spirits was notoriously strange; anyone who wantonly destroyed a forest in their presence would become their mortal enemy!

Heishui Wujiao, in unleashing his full power, had utterly destroyed the forest for miles—enough to earn the relentless pursuit of these two ancient tree monsters!

Ji Hao leapt forward, allowing Heishui Wujiao’s sword light to strike him. Raising his own blade, trailing a cold gleam, he stabbed fiercely at Heishui Wujiao’s heart.

A resounding clang echoed as a faint clear light spun around Ji Hao, blocking Heishui Wujiao’s all-out strike with ease. Ji Hao’s body swayed, his organs rattled; a hot surge rose in his throat and he spat a mouthful of blood.

Heishui Wujiao was a Grand Shaman, Ji Hao but a newly initiated young shaman—their strengths worlds apart; Heishui Wujiao could crush a hundred young shamans with a finger.

Yet the armor refined by A’Bao possessed astonishing defensive power. Even with Heishui Wujiao’s full-force attack, Ji Hao suffered only a small mouthful of blood.

The sword light was bitterly cold as Ji Hao unleashed his full might. Under Heishui Wujiao’s incredulous gaze, the blade pierced through his python-skin armor, forcing its way three inches into his flesh!

***

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