Desperate Battle

Desperate Battle . . .

In the dimly lit streets far from the inn, curious onlookers gazed upward at the looming celestial spectacle. Fear pulsed through their hearts as they observed the extraordinary constellation spanning a staggering ten-mile radius. Within this vast expanse, Qin Wentian's silhouette had vanished entirely.

"Unbelievable! Could he be here to eliminate Qin Wentian?" A hushed murmur swept through the crowd. The return of Chu's legendary figure had stirred both awe and dread. Just how formidable was the adversary he now faced?

"That figure appears even mightier than the Greencloud Sovereign himself. For all his power, the Sovereign is relegated to a mere spectator in this deadly spectacle. Days ago, he came to Chu with the ostensible aim of meeting Qin Wentian. In hindsight, was it all an elaborate ruse to ensnare Qin Wentian in this deadly trap?"

Such musings sent shivers down the spines of the bystanders. The realization that even the Greencloud Sovereign dared not confront Qin Wentian directly was a chilling revelation. Instead, a far more formidable ascendant had been enlisted to orchestrate his demise.

Just how mighty was this enigmatic figure hailing from Chu?

Would today mark the end of Qin Wentian's journey?

Their collective gaze remained fixed on the Greencloud Sovereign, his black-clad form hanging arrogantly in the air, an emotionless mask concealing his inner satisfaction at Qin Wentian's impending doom.

The gray-robed old man he had recruited was a renowned assassin with a history spanning millennia, notorious as the most lethal character in all of Grand Xia. With his personal involvement, Qin Wentian stood no chance. The various transcendent powers had pooled their vast resources, paying an exorbitant price to secure his services.

"Sovereign, why must you do this...?" Ling Yue, tears streaming down her face, couldn't contain her anguish. Witnessing this harrowing scene was almost unbearable. Though Qin Wentian remained hidden from view, the danger he faced was palpable—a perilous realm entwined by ancient vines.

The Greencloud Sovereign's eyes narrowed, and beside him, Ling Yue's grandfather snapped at her, "Ling Yue, silence!"

"Grandpa, how can you all use me for such a purpose?" Ling Yue sobbed, her heart heavy with guilt and anguish. The implications of Qin Wentian's demise here were unimaginable.

She had come to understand the Greencloud Sovereign's character all too well. His ruthlessness in managing the Greencloud Pavilion was evident to all. Once he marked Qin Wentian as an enemy, his demise would trigger a relentless purge of anyone in Chu remotely connected to him. To the Sovereign, this was a strategy of eliminating any trace of trouble—root and branch. His heart would remain unyielding. During his takeover of the Greencloud Pavilion, he had mercilessly slain numerous acquaintances and even friends. To strangers who posed no threat, he held no reservation.

Qin Wentian's absence would spell doom for not only Qingcheng, Mo Feng, Mo Yu, and the entire Mo Residence, but for Chu itself. The Greencloud Sovereign harbored no intentions of mercy. The thought of this grim reality wracked Ling Yue with pain, her body trembling uncontrollably as the torment of impending loss weighed heavily upon her.

"Ling Yue," a voice cut through the tension. Ling Yue's gaze shifted, her eyes widening as she beheld Mo Feng's presence. Her face drained of color, mirroring the profound anxiety that now etched across her brother-in-law's expression. What could provoke such dread in Mo Feng, she wondered?

Mo Feng's eyes, like all those gathered around, were irresistibly drawn to the celestial tapestry sprawled across the heavens. His pallor deepened as he grappled with an unsettling possibility: was there an entity even mightier than the Greencloud Sovereign, a formidable force bent on erasing his brother-in-law from existence?

A brilliant silver roc sliced through the air, a blazing streak of silver light that painted the firmament. Its supersonic speed stirred up a tempestuous wind, leaving onlookers mesmerized and powerless to look away from the radiant figure it bore.

"Such beauty..." Several men among the crowd couldn't help but gape in awe. Their wide-eyed expressions betrayed their unbridled infatuation with the woman's exceptional loveliness.

"Could it be anyone but Chu's number one beauty?" someone mused in admiration. The gap between Chu's reigning beauty and Mo Qingcheng was immeasurable; they existed on entirely different planes of allure. In this regard, Mo Qingcheng had firmly secured her status as the unrivaled beauty of Chu for all eternity.

As the Greencloud Sovereign's eyes landed on Mo Qingcheng, an unusual tremor rippled through his being. His gaze took on a peculiar intensity, tinged with avarice and lust. The martial path had long claimed his dedication, and he had rarely indulged in the pleasures of companionship. Solitude had defined his existence, and even now, he remained a solitary figure without family ties. Yet, as a newly anointed Celestial Phenomenon Ascendant, he found himself yearning for a connection that had long eluded him—a deep companionship with a woman of exceptional caliber. His standards were astronomical, rendering most women utterly insignificant in his eyes. What worth did ordinary beauties hold when pitted against his extraordinary stature?

Yet, this striking woman before him ignited a fire within his heart. Her beauty left him entranced, a potent allure he couldn't deny.

His eyes flickered with a sinister edge as a chilling notion coursed through his mind: once Qin Wentian perished, Chu would become his veritable kingdom. He would wield absolute dominion and seize any pleasure he desired, including the companionship of Chu's most exquisite women.

However, the Greencloud Sovereign's elation waned as quickly as it had ignited. Mo Qingcheng never so much as acknowledged his presence, dismissing him with cold indifference. Unbeknownst to him, in Mo Qingcheng's eyes, he was already a relic of the past—a dead man walking. The very act of conspiring to assassinate Qin Wentian had sealed his fate.

She believed unyieldingly in Qin Wentian's abilities and trusted that he would emerge unscathed.

Within the constellation's shrouded domain, the gray-robed elder met Qin Wentian's question with eerie silence. Vanishing once more into the abyss, he left behind a relentless barrage of creeping vines. These sinister tendrils yawned wide, resembling ravenous, flesh-devouring flora. Encased within this living trap, those lacking the strength to contend would inevitably be consumed, their essence assimilated into the vine's nourishment. Qin Wentian understood this peril all too well, aware of the deadly consequence that awaited him if he failed to escape this vegetal maw.

In the clutches of this cosmic cage, survival hinged on one imperative—Qin Wentian had to shatter the astral bonds of this constellation's embrace. His determination was unwavering, yet even the most well-crafted plans could crumble in the face of superior strength, and it was evident that this aged adversary wielded power beyond his own reach. Escape seemed implausible.

A sliver of hope resided in the demon sword, its blade radiating potent rays of swordlight capable of cleaving through the very fabric of space. It bathed the surroundings in a kaleidoscope of swordqi, an intangible force that pervaded every corner of this astral prison.

The sword's celestial hum filled the air as the blade expanded to an astonishing length of a thousand meters. Qin Wentian, ever resilient, sliced his palms, infusing the blade with his life essence, and the ensuing surge of blood-might intensified the sword's resonance. With each note of its ethereal melody, it eviscerated the encroaching vines.

He dared not allow these ancient tendrils to draw near, for the old assassin had demonstrated an uncanny ability to materialize within their midst.

Shutting his eyes, Qin Wentian sheathed his scarlet demon halberd, relying instead on his expanded perception to navigate his surroundings. The sword's relentless song pulsed in tandem with his intent.

A rustle roused him, and he sensed the vines launching yet another assault, this time from all four cardinal directions. Rather than physically brandishing his sword, he shut his eyes tighter, feigning ignorance of the impending onslaught. Brilliant divine radiance emanated from his form.

"Chi, chi..."

Qin Wentian drew the demon sword once more, and the symphony of bladesong crescendoed. An avalanche of swordqi rent the ceaseless vines, the two forces clashing in a maelstrom of chaos.

"BOOM!"

One particularly robust vine surged forth, hurtling toward Qin Wentian. In an act of sheer will, the demon sword spiraled, unleashing a tempest of annihilation that consumed any threat within its radius.

From the heart of this cosmic prison, a voice unfurled, echoing throughout the space.

"Your strength is commendable," the voice acknowledged. "I had anticipated that a single strike or the might of my constellation would suffice to vanquish you. Yet you've exceeded my expectations. Nevertheless, those I seek to eliminate never escape. Your fate is sealed. Prepare for my next assault, for it shall claim your life."

Qin Wentian remained unmoved. Regardless of his adversary's words or the tactics they employed, his resolve remained unyielding. True mastery lay in maintaining a steady heart, prepared to confront any challenge. These were the fundamentals that defined an expert, and he had cultivated them diligently.

As the echoes of that ominous voice faded, a seismic rumbling reverberated. A fresh constellation materialized, surrounded by an assembly of shadowy figures.

Each silhouette bore a striking resemblance to the others, all enshrouded in jet-black hues, mirroring each other's visage and aura, like reflections caught in a never-ending mirror.

"What manner of constellation is this?" Qin Wentian pondered aloud, his gaze fixed on this enigmatic astral formation. In the realm of martial experts, the constellations manifested were diverse, each a unique expression of Mandates. Yet this celestial apparition surpassed them all in ominous foreboding, eclipsing even the prior vine entanglement in terms of peril.

The vine-based constellation wielded unparalleled power, birthing endless ancient vines that constricted the very fabric of reality. But what secrets lay concealed within this newfound astral formation? Beyond its shroud of concealment, what else lurked in its celestial arsenal?

As the astral radiance cascaded like a cosmic waterfall, Qin Wentian sensed a surge of energy coursing through his surroundings. Shadows, ink-black and ephemeral, materialized and vanished, leaving ghostly imprints in their wake.

"Bzz!"

A fearsome long spear descended from the heavens, aimed squarely at Qin Wentian. He swiftly moved, conjuring a resounding sword hum that rippled through the air. An explosive strike transformed into a vortex of annihilation. Yet the darkness-infused spear, an instrument of inexorable destruction, cleaved through his defensive whirlwind, homing in on its target. Bloodline Protection surged once more, the demonic phantom channeling its rage into a devastating strike.

In an instant, the constellation spun, vanquishing the advancing specter of the old man. An aura of impending doom gripped Qin Wentian as yet another shadowy figure materialized before him, thrusting a malevolent spear imbued with darkness.

"RUMBLE!"

His sword intent erupted, a symphony of countless blades resonating as they descended upon their prey. But the assassin's strike, swift as a lightning bolt, pierced through the sword barrage, impaling Qin Wentian's shoulder and gouging another crimson orifice in his battered frame.

A single strike, a brief appearance, and then another vanishing act—the old man wielded unwavering caution. While might favored the assassin, a past encounter with Bloodline Protection compelled him to tread warily. His forte was assassination, attacking from obscurity, ensnaring his quarry within an enclosed abyss before delivering the coup de grâce.

In the span of a mere breath, the grey-robed assassin teleported randomly among the flickering silhouettes, the relentless vines maintaining their relentless assault. Qin Wentian struggled to fend off the multitude of strikes, a gruesome tapestry of bloodstains marring his form. With each passing moment, his body became a living testament to pain and perseverance. A fraction of hesitation, and he would have perished.

Sustaining this relentless barrage would be his undoing.

The assassin's swift strikes encircled Qin Wentian, their potency undeniable. But fortune favored Qin Wentian in direct confrontations, his assaults proving superior to the element of surprise. Without this advantage, he might already have succumbed.

Qin Wentian's four Yuanfus surged, flooding every inch of his being with astral energy. Even the demon sword's might flowed through his veins. His body blazed, his power unparalleled, his aura soaring beyond the reaches of the Heavenly Dipper Realm. It radiated an ominous intensity that dwarfed many Celestial Phenomenon Ascendants.

The assassin's eyes widened in horror. He comprehended Qin Wentian's desperate gambit—to sacrifice every fiber of his being, to burn through his very essence, and unleash an overwhelming attack to shatter all limits.

"BZZ!"

With frantic haste, the grey-robed assassin vanished into his constellation. The young man had gone mad, invoking this dread technique without uttering a word, heedless of the toll it would exact.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!" The assassin's pallor drained as he grasped the gravity of Qin Wentian's gambit. The young man intended to immolate himself, paying the ultimate price to harness unfathomable power, disregarding the perils it entailed.

"DIE!" Qin Wentian's right hand cleaved through the firmament, a celestial sword stroke rending the heavens asunder, sundering the assassin's constellation in twain!