Chapter 133: Chaos
Wood jolted. He forgot about the golden sword entirely, yanking his blade wheel back to block the dark streak. The black light faded, revealing a vicious-looking pair of black shears—the Black Flood Dragon Shears, a magic artifact.
"Bastard." Wood hadn't expected Leo to have such a powerful flying shears artifact. All through the snake fights in the cave, Leo had only shown his strong spells and that golden sword—a top-grade spirit artifact. Never once had he hinted at having a magic artifact.
The Palace and the Ice Profound Sect were evenly matched. One core disciple per squad was already solid. The Palace had Vera, Quincy, and Lowell—three strong core disciples—plus Quiver's archer squad, as good as any core disciple. That kind of strength was rare, even among the Ice Profound Sect. And Leo? He'd kept to the loose cultivators, acted like one of them. Nothing about him screamed "core disciple."
That was why Wood was caught off guard. But he was seasoned. His wheel met the shears, barely, in the chaos. He held. But holding the shears meant the vines—those Iron Thorn Vines he'd dismissed—and the golden sword were still coming.
Clang, clang, clang. The wheel danced with the shears. Wood, scrambling, pulled out a silver spirit short spear to parry Leo's golden sword.
He was fast. In the chaos, he managed both. But the vines—they were already through his shield. They wrapped around his ankle, climbing his leg.
"Senior Brother! Help!" Wood's voice cracked. The thorns bit deep. Blood ran.
Monty had already assumed the fight was over. His mind was elsewhere—on Quincy and Vera, one on each arm, already savoring his reward. He was slower than Wood to realize what was happening. Not that it would have mattered. Even he would have been caught off guard by this kind of ambush. Who expects a wolf in sheep's clothing?
This tale has been pilfered from NovelFire. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Wood was bound, thorns tearing through him. His control wavered. The wheel faltered.
Leo's face was cold. The shears struck harder, knocked the wheel aside, and snapped the cord that controlled it. The wheel flew free, burying itself in the cave wall.
Monty was no amateur. The shift caught him completely off guard, but he still managed to throw his ice spike, knocking the Black Flood Dragon Shears away from Wood's head. There wasn't time for more. That was all he could do.
"Too late." Leo's finger flicked. His golden sword shrank, slipped through the vines, and drove into Wood's chest. It shot out the other side, straight at Monty's throat.
Monty's eyes went wide. Leo was his equal—maybe more. All this time, hiding. Deadly. He dropped Quincy and Vera, fumbled out a spirit blade, and barely deflected the golden sword.
Quincy and Vera had thought it was over. Monty's trap, Wood's blade—two core disciples against them. Leo was strong, but he couldn't take them on alone. Now Wood was dead, his artifact destroyed. Monty fought tooth and nail, his ice spike against Leo's shears, his blade against the golden sword, giving ground, taking none. Hope surged in their chests.
"Hah! Senior Brother Leo! Two core disciples, and he's giving them both a run! We're saved! Kill these Ice Profound bastards—they're worse than the Evil Valley scum!" Angus hadn't even caught his breath before Wood was dead. They had been dead men walking. Now? They might walk away with everything. More than they'd ever dreamed.
"Monty's mine. The rest of you, move. Lowell's gone—Monty got him. There are more Ice Profound disciples deeper in the cave. They'll come. Kill these before they do, or this turns on us." Leo's voice was hard.
Privately, though, he had to give credit to Angus's quick thinking. The whole fight flipped in a heartbeat, and Angus didn't miss a beat. All he saw was Leo trading blows with Monty, but he called it right then and there—Monty couldn't win. That one shout broke whatever fight the Ice Profound disciples had left in them and yanked the Palace's morale back from the gutter.
Angus, Solon, and the others were sharp—they had to be. The other Palace disciples, from better families, had never needed that edge. Not that it mattered. Even if more Ice Profound disciples showed up and the situation turned again, Leo had ways to turn it back. But with so many eyes on him, he'd rather keep his remaining cards hidden if he could.
"Don't worry, Senior Brother Leo. Just deal with that animal Monty. We'll handle the rest." Quiver's sword found a man's throat. She was already moving to the next.
Leo nodded to himself. Quiver's people were solid—not quite at Wood or Lowell's level, but way above the average Qi Refining cultivator.
"You think you've won?" Monty's face twisted. His spike knocked the shears aside for an instant—just long enough to slap his spirit beast pouch. A massive brown bear, third-grade, roared into the cave.
"Don't worry, Senior Brother Leo. The bear's mine." Frost was closest. With Quiver engaging her opponent, she was free. She stepped forward to block the bear. Even though the fight had started to turn, the real battle was between Leo and Monty. That one would decide everything. No room for error.