Ice-shaped Qi energy, resembling sharp snow lotus beads, thrown at high speed from Suma Chen's sword tip towards Duan Anming's chest turned hundreds of ice lotuses gliding towards Duan Anming.
"Go away...!"
Duan Anming shouted, and his body spun like a whirlwind, releasing dark and perverted spirits from the tip of his short sword. The spirits glared and opened their mouths, brutally swallowing all the lotus petals.
What a meaningless attack," Duan Anming mocked.
However, just as he finished speaking, the shadow of a sword beam approached his neck with the speed of a reaper. With a strange speed, the sword beam was suddenly in front of his eyes, delivering a deadly slash to his neck. This was accompanied by a gust of icy vapor that carried murderous air, leaving him asphyxiated.
Duan Anming released Qi and formed a dark shield to protect himself from the strange attack. He slid backwards, away from the mysterious attack.
"Insolent! This Snow Lotus Pure Heart Sword Technique is strange but dangerous. So fast and deadly," cursed Duan Anming inwardly.
"Now you try experiencing this Red Skull Claw Technique!" The intoxicating fishy scent of blood came out from both of Duan Anming's hands. He grasped a glove containing six short swords, which continuously emitted black smoke. His body disappeared in the thick smoke, zigzagging with speed, rivaling even the movements of Elves.
Suma Chen prepared to defend himself with a Defense Technique. The thin ice wall that formed the shape of a large Ice Lotus protected him. The intoxicating scent of blood claws made him dizzy. When he flowed Qi throughout his body to overcome the intoxicating scent, three short swords suddenly appeared in front of him. Each separated and headed for Suma Chen's head, chest, and Dantian. What a deadly technique.
Suma Chen did not panic; his right hand moved quickly to form the Ice Lotus Pure Heart Sword Technique defense technique. Two swords were extended to deal with the attacks towards the head and chest, while his left hand magically took out a sword sheath to block the attacks towards the Dantian.
TRANG!
Suma Chen successfully blocked three short sword attacks. However, Duan Anming did not stop. The 2nd, 3rd, and so on blows were aimed at deadly areas on Suma Chen's body. The Blood Skull Claw technique, an Earth rank blow, emphasized not only the intoxicating sword venom but also the ruthlessness and relentless attacks. These consecutive attacks gave the opponent little chance to breathe and prepare to retaliate.
On the other side, Duan Anming became increasingly brutal and unleashed ruthless techniques. His curiosity towards his Elven opponent made him even more curious. Although his sword techniques had slaughtered energy, his Qi energy remained clean. Suma Chen's dodging speed made Duan Anming's attacks miss or be blocked.
"Well... You pushed me to this point, Suma Chen. And it was only because of this single Ice Rose flower. Now, I won't play around anymore," Duan Anming sighed as he bit his finger until it bled. The blood dripped onto the object he picked up inside the spatial ring.
"Let's die together," Duan Anming said as he slammed the bloodied object down. From the ground emerged a giant skull, about 10 meters across. Despite its size, the skull moved quickly. The skull's Cultivation Realm was like Duan Anming, an Intermediate Great Realm Spirit.
''Kill him!'' ordered Duan Anming, pointing at Suma Chen. The demon and the skull attacked together. Duan Anming's rumbling voice and irregular cries accompanied their attacks, creating a tense atmosphere.
Suma Chen who originally seemed to be dominating, now felt the pressure. The Qi that came out from the skull punch created an effect that could shatter a hill, showing the power of a mid-level Great Spirit Realm. Cleverly, Suma Chen managed to avoid attacks towards his head which was always the target of skull punches.
On the other hand, Duan Anming, with the Red Skull Claw short sword series, picked out targets at deadly points on Suma Chen's chest. Suma Chen found it difficult to deal with the Great Spirit Realm Expert's attacks as if fighting against an expert at the peak of the Great Spirit Realm realm.
The battle between Suma Chen and Duan Anming lasted four hours. During that time they consumed pills and used talismans to repair and replenish their nearly depleted energy. This battle required high-grade pills and high-level talismans.
No signs of fatigue
Suma Chen completely pulled out all the stops, turning the surrounding battle area from rain puddles into thick snow. The night atmosphere full of mist and rain was now even colder. As a bonus, the Elves dropped ice lotus flower flakes that fell on the battle area.
Duan Anming, at that moment, looked like a beggar, clothes in tatters, blood dripping from all over his body from the broken Ice Lotus petals. His skull also appeared damaged, with cracks visible on the chest and skull.
Meanwhile, Suma Chen was in equally bad shape, with the skin on his face and wrists turning black from the poisonous fumes of Duan Anming's six short swords. Fortunately, the heavy rain helped Suma Chen as the ice energy in his body processed the rainwater into snowflakes.
As an Elven race, ice was the source of cultivation, and the ice essence helped Suma Chen stay awake and conscious even though the poison had entered his body.
Suddenly, Suma Chen infused Ice Lotus Qi energy into his sword at full power. Coldly, he said, "Break!"
Suma Chen's sword darted towards Duan Anming, forming a beautiful Lotus flower pattern with random and confusing movements. Suma Chen closed his eyes while chanting a sword incantation.
"Break! Quasi Sword Intent!" Duan Anming shouted with a cry of horror.
His opponent had quasi-stage sword intent, which had never happened in thousands of years. No living being, human, Elf, demon, or Dark Elf, understood the essence of sword intent.
Before him, Duan Anming fought against a sword master who understood quasi-stage sword intent. He would have become a corpse long ago if it was rank one sword intent. Duan Anming began to regret his decision to fight against this Elf.
There was a light sound as the Elf's sword cut through Duan Anming's head like a knife cutting through butter. Duan Anming's head was blown away while the sword moved beautifully back to its master, Suma Chen.
BANG!
The claws of the living skull briefly touched Suma Chen's chest before finally falling motionless as its controller, Duan Anming, was already dead. Suma Chen was thrown back while spewing blood. His face was pale.
In the distance, 100 meters further away, the two small children who witnessed the fierce battle were extremely shocked when a human head fell in front of them. Duan Anming's face looked dumbfounded, with a deep impression of regret.
Yi Zan was about to scream as loud as she could, but Yuan Fen quickly jumped towards her and covered the girl's mouth to prevent her from making a sound. They realized that even if they were seriously injured, the Elves in the distance could still kill them with a flick of a finger.
"Don't make a sound! Stt," Yuan Fen whispered very tensely. He tried to calm Yi Zan down. The girl tried to overcome her fear by looking outside the cave, but her panic grew stronger.
"Big brother, look towards the Elf over there..." Yi Zan trembled while whispering to Yuan Fen.
As Yuan Fen turned his gaze to the battle between Duan Anming and Suma Chen, he felt a creeping horror in his body. All of his hair stood up.
The elf stood with sharp eyes as if it could penetrate the cave and scrutinized Yuan Fen's insides. "That elf has known of our existence from the start; there's nothing we can do but..."
"Run!" shouted Yi Zan without hesitation; they crossed through the heavy rain and ran towards the road leading to the Cloud Sword sect.
The hearts of the two children were full of fear. They thought that this time, they would die in the Elf's hands. But there was no choice but to run as fast as they could!
Continue
Latest Chapter
One Hour to Kneel
The Logun messenger approached under a plain white banner.His horse moved at a walking pace, and the scroll remained visible in one hand. His sword was tied inside its sheath with a narrow strip of cloth, proving he had not come to fight.Several black-path disciples shifted near the camp entrance.“We should kill him before he speaks,” one muttered.Lin Heng heard and turned his head. “A messenger carries words, not personal guilt. Any hand raised against him answers to the alliance.”The disciple lowered his gaze.That decision mattered. Even leaders who disliked Bingdao understood that Lin Heng still observed Jianghu convention when anger would have made cruelty easier.Lin Heng mounted a black warhorse and rode forward. His battle robe was white, though mud and dried blood had darkened the lower fabric. Matchi
The Poisoned Messenger
“Ten.”The Logun messenger slid from the saddle.His shoulder struck the grass first, then the rest of his body followed. The horse staggered two more steps before its front legs folded. Foam appeared around its mouth as the poison spread through the reins and saddle leather that both rider and beast had touched.Ouyang Kang watched with gloved hands folded behind his back. He did not rush forward or explain the recipe. His attention remained on the messenger’s breathing, the discoloration beneath the jaw, and the delayed tremor in the horse’s hind legs.“The first layer entered through the skin,” he said. “The second awakened when he tightened the reins.”That was all he offered.Black-path leaders applauded first.Duan Baili raised his broken prayer beads and declared, “Heaven has ju
The Fourth Day Without Strength
The first night passed beneath torchlight and the glow of damaged formation lamps.Alliance healers moved between rows of wounded cultivators while sword clashes continued beyond the camp. Every time one group returned from the front, another crossed the dark grass to replace it.By the second morning, several sect banners had been cut in half. Disciples tied the torn fabric to shorter poles because no faction wanted its symbol to disappear while rivals still stood.The second night brought rain. Blood washed into shallow depressions, and exhausted fighters slipped where the grass had become mud.On the third morning, the battlefield smelled of wet iron, medicine, smoke, and rotting flesh. Healers began diluting their remaining powders. By the third night, one tent had no clean bandages left, and another burned broken spear shafts to heat its last cauldron of water.When the fourth day arrived, the alliance no longer hid its exhaustion.Sword hands trembled after every exchange. Footw
When Two Tides Collided
The first organized Logun infantry unit advanced from the secured landing corridor in three measured layers.Shield bearers formed the front. Spear and sword units followed behind them, while crossbow teams occupied slightly higher ground created by trampled carts and broken formation platforms. The soldiers moved at one pace, each row adjusting to the row beside it.Across the grassland, alliance disciples rushed faster but with less cohesion.The two forces collided.A Logun spear caught the sleeve of a rushing swordsman and dragged his arm wide. Before the disciple could cut the shaft, a shield edge struck his knee. He fell sideways, and the soldiers behind the shield closed the gap instead of pursuing him.On the next section of the line, a sword cultivator used lightness movement to leap over the shield wall. His blade flashed twice and opened the throats of two soldiers.
The First Rain of Iron
The first formation-enhanced bolts were only breaths away when the midday sun flashed across their metal heads.The Northwest Grassland offered almost no natural cover. Spirit ships hovered high above the open field, flying archers occupied the space between fleet and ground, and the Thirteen-Faction Alliance had already spread unevenly after its premature advance. The widest gaps lay between the orthodox center and the black-path western flank.Lin Heng saw the danger, but the first volley arrived before his order could reach every banner.The bolts struck.An orthodox disciple raised his sword too late. Three bolts shattered the qi around the blade, and a fourth pierced his shoulder, spinning him to the ground. Nearby, a black-path fighter seized the collar of a junior and dragged the younger man in front of him. The junior screamed as two bolts entered his back, while the senior survived behind the stolen shield.Mahya saw the act and remembered the man’s face.On the eastern side,
A Thousand Umbrellas of Death
The dark shapes continued descending beneath reinforced flying umbrellas.Each umbrella contained thin metal ribs, spirit-thread fabric, and small formation plates that adjusted altitude through controlled currents. The soldiers did not drift randomly. They formed layered rows with exact spacing, each archer holding a heavy crossbow across the chest.Alliance disciples below still mocked the withdrawn ladders.A black-path disciple waved his saber. “They were too frightened to climb down, so now they hide beneath toys.”A young orthodox swordsman laughed. “Their army has already lost the courage to meet us on the ground.”An opportunistic elder lifted his chin. “The pressure from our formation forced this change. They fear approaching my position directly.”The cautious veteran heard them and looked upward.
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