Daoist Competition

Lu Muqiu had originally been sitting in meditation with his mind gathered and calm, but all of a sudden his whole body trembled; a certain sense in his heart was cut off, and an expression of utter disbelief could not be suppressed from showing in his eyes.

He had never imagined that, with Gao Ruowang’s Dharma Power, he would actually be beheaded by Zhang Yan in less than a quarter of an hour.

He had previously considered that the side of Ms. Xu or Yan Huixin might be beaten back, but he had never expected that the mistake would occur at Gao Ruowang’s link in the chain.

Cold sweat streamed down from his forehead; Zhang Yan was this formidable—if he rushed over to assist the other Xuanmen Sect Disciples, then the arrangements laid by their Spiritual Sects would be in danger of collapsing utterly, and the situation could be said to be perilous to the extreme.

At this thought, he immediately became somewhat flustered and ill at ease. At present there were only two choices: one, think of some way to send someone again to block him, to entangle Zhang Yan once more; two, to completely abandon this swordfight and withdraw from it altogether.

The former Method was, however, not very feasible. Among the Demon Sect disciples who had come to this swordfight, only he himself had yet to cross hands with anyone. Yet he still needed to sit at the center to provide stratagem and cast Divine Power Skills; even leaving that aside, the two from Mingcang Sect, Luo Qingyu and Zhong Muqing, were heading this way. If no one was here to preside over the Forbidden Array, how could they speak of restraining the two? Thus he simply could not pull himself away.

As for the second Method, with his status and position among the six, he was not in a place to make such a decision.

According to what the six of them had previously discussed, it was not that they had failed to consider that such a situation might arise; they had also prepared a countermeasure, only he was unsure whether he should employ it.

Lu Muqiu took a deep breath and forced himself to slowly steady his Heart and Spirit, then called out to Feng Haiyang within his mind.

After roughly several dozen breaths, he received a definite response, and at this moment his expression became incomparably grave; only after a long time did he sigh once, secretly thinking, "Now I can only try as Brother Feng has said; whether it succeeds or not will depend entirely on my Spirit Sect’s fortune."

Since he had been forced to this step, if he wished to turn the tables, he had no choice but to hazard another desperate gamble.

He silently cast a spell, and again, within his Heart and Spirit, called upon the name of Jiuling Sect’s Yan Huixin.

At this moment, several hundred li away, Zhou Huang trod upon starlight, roaming through the Void. His gaze dropped, and he looked a few times at a rocky peak below, then shouted coldly, "You skulking, hiding creature—get out here for me!"

Just as he spoke, several pillar-like shafts of starlight suddenly burst out from the Gang Cloud above, piercing straight down. The power of this light was violently fierce; with a single strike it blasted the Flying Peak into powder. In the hazy smoke and dust, a streak of Green Light suddenly rose up, darting off elsewhere.

Zhou Huang slightly raised his head, looking upward, and said with disdain, "Why bother with such futile struggling?"

He took a stride beneath his feet, and in that instant he flashed through the air and tunneled out of sight, appearing ten zhang behind that person. Then he chopped out with his hand and released a Thunder Pearl of divine might; within that dazzling radiance, peals of thunder resounded. After a booming explosion, the person in front immediately let out a miserable scream.

Yet even after taking that Thunder Pearl, this person did not die on the spot; instead, he actually sped up his tunneling light by a few degrees. Only when he had flown off to the distance did he halt his figure and turn around, coughing.

Zhou Huang scrutinized him closely and saw that this person wore green clothes; his face was still handsome, but two short horns had grown on his forehead. Disgust could not help but arise in his eyes as he said, "So you really are a Demon Dao demon, actually lodging your Divine Soul in a beast’s carcass."

That Green-clothed Cultivator’s body was a mass of mangled flesh, yet at this moment those wounds were actually slowly knitting together. He raised his hand to wipe the blood at the corner of his mouth, then laughed loudly and said, "Why must Master Zhou mock me with words? You must know that all things under Heaven and Earth possess Spirit..."

Zhou Huang cut him off with a shout, his voice harsh: "Silence! You and your ilk dare to reason with me?"

As he opened his mouth, the Gang Cloud above suddenly shook; in an instant the radiance blazed forth, splendid brilliance spreading like a blazing sun shining upon all, enshrouding the firmament. He then pointed downward once more, and from the light there split off a single razor-sharp beam, starlight dazzling, as though it were shooting down from beyond the Nine Heavens.

That Green-clothed Cultivator started in fright and hastily leapt aside to dodge, but how could there be time? Bathed in that radiance, the body which even the Thunder Pearl earlier had failed to blow apart suddenly ignited of its own accord, flames roaring up. He bellowed once, tore off one of his own arms, and flung it down from the clouds—yet within a mere few breaths, his entire person boomed and turned to flying ash.

That arm fell an arrow’s distance, and then a wisp of white smoke spurted out from within, furtively twisting about as if to flee.

Just at this moment, a Star Thunder Pearl pursued it, and with a thunderclap out of thin air it exploded, blasting it to smithereens, leaving only curling embers of smoke drifting down.

After Zhou Huang had slain his foe, he immediately flew up into the air, his awe-inspiring gaze sweeping over the surrounding Flying Peaks and grotesque rocks.