Ch. 116 – Showdown
Ling Yun was not wearing his mask. His identity had already been exposed, so there was no need for concealment.
Feng Ye had a clear view of his face.One half was normal and even handsome, invoking a sense of goodwill in anyone who saw it, while the other was grisly and terrifying, as hideous as a ghost’s.
Viewed separately, there was nothing particularly odd about either side. A human was a human, and a ghost was a ghost, but these two diametrically opposed faces were being worn by the same person.
The human side didn’t diminish the eeriness of the ghostly side, and instead, the combination made him appear even more unnatural.
This was what Ling Yun had become – neither human nor ghost.
Behind him hung the bright moon on the horizon. The branch he stood upon was no thicker than the joint of a finger, so thin that it shouldn’t have stood a chance of bearing the weight of an adult man.
The branch bent under the weight, but didn’t break. No matter how the cool night breeze blew or the tree swayed, he stood perfectly steady upon the curved branch.
His wide, flowing sleeves billowed in the wind, and in the dark of night, he resembled a wandering spirit, silently watching the four people below.
Feng Ye stopped what he was doing and got to his feet, looking up to meet Ling Yun’s gaze.
The sound of his movements finally alerted Fang Yang and Cao Zirui that something was wrong. They turned to follow Feng Ye’s gaze, and their eyes widened.
Although they had met Ling Yun once before, it had been a brief encounter, since the Grand Array collapsed directly after Ling Yun’s mask shattered.
Then came their desperate escape, and after running and fighting all night long, there had been no time to process the shock of meeting Ling Yun.
But at this moment, it all came flooding back.
How was Ling Yun not dead? Why, over the course of a century, had he not once contacted his former friends, family, or sworn brother? To this day, Ji Chengyue didn’t know that his shixiong was still alive and had been reduced to this state. He had endured the grief and remorse alone for a century, mourning his shixiong.
And how had Ling Yun come to be involved with that black snake, which must be the same creature who instigated Xue Ren and impersonated Yinglong?
Ling Yun was once the sect leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect, and even if that was in the past, his ties to the sect were unbreakable.
Anyone else might act against Lingxiao Sword Sect, but never Ling Yun. He was the one destined to lead the sect to the true “Lingxiao,” ascending to the heavens. Why then had he instigated Xue Ren to rebel?
Even if he hadn’t been the one to instigate him, he couldn’t have been unaware of it. And the fact remained that despite his knowledge of the situation, he did nothing about it, a clear violation of a sect leader’s duty to protect the sect.
Fang Yang and Cao Zirui couldn’t wrap their heads around it. They couldn’t understand how Ling Yun had become like this. His gaze was so icy that it didn’t seem to belong to a living person, and only when looking at Feng Ye did a hint of heat return to his eyes.
Heat from the flames of vengeance.
These flames naturally paled in comparison to the heat of heavenly fire, but at this moment, Feng Ye felt the heat in those eyes with such intensity that it was almost painful. His fists clenched.
After recovering from the shock of Ling Yun’s sudden appearance, Hao Chen slowly cast his gaze sideways at Feng Ye.
Right or wrong notwithstanding, that event a century ago had claimed so many lives. This soft-hearted dragon was certain to be sorrowful.
Likewise, he might even feel a lingering guilt, and upon seeing this surviving ghost, he might not be able to bring himself to act against him.
Hao Chen had already come to a decision: if Ling Yun appeared again as their enemy, Hao Chen would be the one to deal with him.
With this in mind, he drew a pearl from his sleeve and gave it a flick straight toward Ling Yun’s left shoulder, the same spot where Feng Ye had been wounded.
At the same time, he took a step to position himself in front of Feng Ye.
With his line of sight blocked, Feng Ye stared at Hao Chen with some surprise.
Ling Yun reached out and caught the pearl shooting toward him. He took a closer look and recognized it as the same type of pearl that had been used in a sneak attack inside the Grand Array. It had caused his attention to stray, allowing Feng Ye to pierce through the area where his heart should have been.
The chill in his eyes deepened by several degrees. He clenched his fist, crushing the pearl into a powder that drifted from his fingertips. Hao Chen had successfully diverted his attention, and Ling Yun cast a cold look toward the troublemaker.
The black snake slithered out of the collar of Ling Yun’s robes, fixing his eyes on Hao Chen. He flickered his tongue, then murmured into Ling Yun’s ear in a low, dangerous tone: “He’s in the way.”
Although the unexpected interference of the Kunpeng had not truly affected his plans, he was like explosive powder waiting to detonate, capable of disrupting their game at any time.
The black snake glared at Hao Chen with particular hostility, and Ling Yun’s gaze wasn’t any friendlier, icy enough to be several degrees lower than the frigid air of the North Sea.
Most people would have flinched under the looks in those eyes, or at the very least felt a sense of unease.
But Hao Chen was unmoved. His thick skin had been tempered through countless trials and tribulations, and these two pairs of eyes were nothing. Even if there were ten, a hundred, a thousand eyes staring at him, they would have no chance at piercing through his impenetrable hide.
He was the god who, in front of all the sea clans of the North Sea, had pointed at a tortoise and called it a turtle.
Although that was really not something to brag about.
But it made clear that the thickness of his skin was something that couldn’t be matched by the average person.
Hao Chen’s expression didn’t change. He even wore a smile on his face, though it was far from genuine. Unfurling his fan, he laughed out loud at the person up on the tree branch: “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to stop by so late at night? You were so quiet that I mistook you for intruders and almost injured the two of you by mistake.”
His words were courteous, but his actions were not. He had clearly identified Ling Yun before throwing the pearl, and his aim was right on target.
But Ling Yun didn’t address his remark, his gaze shifting instead toward Cao Zirui.
Cao Zirui’s expression grew tense. He had realized why Ling Yun was staring at him.
“Hand over Jianmu and the Living Soil.” Ling Yun spoke softly in a hoarse voice that seemed to carry smoke and soot.
Although there wasn’t much emotion in his tone, the underlying sense of command and authority was undiminished.
Cao Zirui clutched the small jar that was strapped tightly across his body. Jianmu may have been discovered by Ling Yun, but the Ling Yun of today was not the same person. There was absolutely no way he could hand over Jianmu to this person who kept company with a demon.
However, whether it was Jianmu or the Living Soil, he might not have a choice.
Ling Yun had already been at the Hedao stage of cultivation one hundred years ago, and no other cultivator in the world could hope to match him. Now, with a demonic creature at his side, his strength had likely only grown.
Among the four of them, Cao Zirui possessed the highest level of cultivation at early Foundation Establishment, and he was suffering from internal injuries.
But what would it matter even if he was in perfect shape? Could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator hope to defeat a sect leader?
The sword technique he practiced had been created by Ling Yun, who knew its weaknesses and flaws better than anyone. This was an enemy he was incapable of defeating.
He was helpless, and so was Fang Yang. Among their group, perhaps only Feng-shixiong, with his mysterious origins, stood a chance.
Cao Zirui looked toward Feng Ye, faintly hopeful, but before he could say anything, Hao Chen spoke up first.
“Jianmu and Living Soil?” Hao Chen’s voice held a tinge of half-feigned surprise: “We do have the Living Soil, it’s right here. But who among us has Jianmu in their possession?”
As he spoke, he deliberately turned to face Fang Yang and Cao Zirui.
Fang Yang shook his head like a rattle drum. Wasn’t Jianmu back at the sect? How could they have it with them? But…..come to think of it, what was that delicate seedling that had been revealed when Cao Zirui’s jar broke last night? It had slipped his mind, but now that he remembered, could it be…..
Fang Yang, who was a few beats behind, finally came to a realization.
Cao Zirui hesitated for a moment, but also shook his head.
Having received his answer, Hao Chen turned back to Ling Yun and spread his hands with a smile: “We don’t have it.”
“Furthermore…..” Before Ling Yun could reply, Hao Chen’s tone shifted abruptly, his pleasant smile gone without a trace.
Although he was standing on the forest floor with Ling Yun seven or eight meters above him, Hao Chen’s tone was one of lofty, arrogant ridicule: “Who the hell do you think you are, trying to rob someone right in front of me?”
He would shamelessly pester Feng Ye, occasionally feigning weakness in order to eat his tofu, displaying not a shred of the dignity inherent in a great god of the heavenly realm. But that was only due to his affection for the person in question.
Going back in time a bit, his original attitude toward Feng Ye had been superior and aloof, and when he offered his assistance, he insisted that Feng Ye beg him first for his favor.
This was his true nature. In his many years of existing in a position of supreme authority, he had long since grown accustomed to looking down on others. He was the Lord of the North Sea, with millions of sea creatures bowing at his feet, submitting to his authority. Who would dare to claim to be his equal? Who was qualified to stand at the same level as him?
The black snake flicked its tongue, a dangerous glint flashing through its red eyes. That arrogance unique to the gods, that posture, as if everyone and everything was beneath him…..how nauseating.
“He has a death wish,” he cursed under his breath near Ling Yun’s ear.
Ling Yun extended his right hand, and the black mist hidden within his wide sleeves quickly condensed into the shape of a sword.
He held an equal loathing for that haughty, condescending attitude. A century ago, standing high above the clouds, Yinglong had worn the same look of disdain.
A blade identical to Xue Ren’s Fleeting Shadow took shape in the darkness. Its pitch-black length blended in with the night, impervious to the bright light of the moon.
The enemy had drawn his weapon. A fight was imminent.
Hao Chen unfolded his fan and held it to his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly above the rim. He wanted to see just what sort of abilities these two half-human, half-ghost things possessed.
The atmosphere between the two sides was a drawn bowstring, ready to let loose at any time.
But just before the arrow actually left the string, an arm suddenly nudged Hao Chen backward.
Feng Ye, who had been silent all this while, pushed Hao Chen behind him. He was perfectly aware of why Hao Chen, this persistently lazy fish, had stepped forward so readily now. It was entirely because Feng Ye was at a loss for how to handle this situation with Ling Yun.
Hao Chen didn’t want to put him in a difficult position, so he stepped forward himself to settle the matter.
But in the end, this was Feng Ye’s business. He was the one who severed Jianmu a century ago, and he was the one who killed Ling Yun. Therefore, it was only right for him to be the one to bring things to a close.
Feng Ye lifted his eyes toward Ling Yun and spoke the human’s name for the first time: “Ling Yun.”
Ling Yun’s expression iced over.
Feng Ye said word by word: “Do you dare to face me in battle without any spiritual power?”
The night wind swept past everyone gathered there. This unexpected challenge left them all off-balance, and Ling Yun didn’t answer immediately.
Cao Zirui and Fang Yang were stunned. How could the other party agree to such a request?
In their view, even if Feng Ye wasn’t as weak as he appeared, there was no possible way that he was as strong as the Hedao-stage Ling Yun. Not using spiritual power was basically asking the opponent to lower their strength for the match. No one with a working brain would agree to that.
But the reality was quite the opposite. By saying this, Feng Ye meant that he would not use any divine power, and would fight Ling Yun with the strength of a mortal.
It would actually be him lowering his strength, not Ling Yun.
Ling Yun remained expressionless as he stared at Feng Ye. After a long pause, he finally gave his answer with a single icy word: “Fine.”
“Hehe.” The black snake who had just been enraged by Hao Chen’s tone suddenly laughed. “Interesting.”
Fleeting Shadow dissolved in Ling Yun’s hand as he spoke. Since only mortal strength was to be used in this fight, the unstoppable Fleeting Shadow would naturally be in violation of the rules.
“Fang Yang, Cao Zirui, lend me your sect-issued iron swords.” Feng Ye spoke to the two boys behind him, who still didn’t understand what was going on. He didn’t turn around, his gaze fixed on Ling Yun.
Fang Yang and Cao Zirui were momentarily stunned when they heard this, but quickly recovered. Fang Yang was already holding his sword, which he had just been using to dig, so he wiped the dirt off the blade and handed it to Feng Ye.
Cao Zirui then searched through his storage bag. He naturally possessed one of the standard-issue iron swords, but after acquiring his high-grade spirit sword, he had set the ordinary weapon aside.
But rather than throwing it away, he had just tossed it into his storage bag. Unlike the meager capacity of the storage bags provided by the sect, his was so packed to the brim that it was practically a warehouse. Everything ended up in there, whether it was useful or not.
He rummaged through the mess before finally locating the standard-issue iron sword in a long-undisturbed corner.
He stepped forward, handed the sword to Feng Ye, and then stepped back.
Feng Ye tossed Cao Zirui’s sword to Ling Yun, who caught it in a steady grip.
He leapt down from his perch on the branch and stood ten meters away, facing Feng Ye.
Black mist emerged from Ling Yun’s collar and sleeves, and a deep male voiced echoed from within it: “In the interest of fairness, I won’t interfere.”
He looked at Hao Chen: “And neither will you.”
Just as he finished speaking, the mass of black mist that had separated from Ling Yun suddenly began to expand, swelling hundreds of times its original size in an instant.
It swirled in place like a tornado, swallowing the figures of Feng Ye and Ling Yun. At the same time, Hao Chen and the others were buffeted away from Feng Ye’s side and forced several meters back.
Once they regained their footing, they looked back at where they had been standing. The area was enveloped in thick black mist, which formed a barrier that completely sealed off every sight and sound within it.
This was a fight where no outside interference was tolerated.
A duel between a mortal and a god.
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