Chapter 183 (II): A Spectacular Duel

A massive explosion rippled outward, sending savage waves of heat and flame rolling in every direction.

Behind Zhang Yuanqing, a pale barrier of light flared to life as if on instinct, acting like a solid wall that blocked the raging wall of fire and its accompanying shockwave.

As one of the Taiyi Sect's finest Transcendent-tier Walkers, Maoshan Warlock was hardly short on equipment. His Heart-protecting Mirror could both monitor movement within a hundred-meter radius and serve as a defensive barrier.

The short blade met no resistance. It plunged cleanly into Yuanshi Tianzun's back.

Across the spectator stands, hearts seized. But the spray of blood never came. As the blade pierced Yuanshi Tianzun's back, his body rippled like a reflection that had been shattered.

It was only a phantom, crafted by illusion.

Zhang Yuanqing's true body emerged from Night Wandering behind Maoshan Warlock, catching the falling Burst Pistol perfectly. He raised the barrel and squeezed the trigger.

Bang, bang, bang!

The muzzle spat fire as he recklessly emptied the entire magazine. Crimson rounds tore through his opponent's body, but it too was only a phantom conjured by illusion.

I got carried away, he realized. I shouldn't have burned through the magazine that fast. But I couldn't help it. The influence of two Fire Sage items is making me reckless.

Seeing that his ambush had failed, Zhang Yuanqing retreated quickly and slipped back into Night Wandering.

At the same instant, Maoshan Warlock disappeared as well. Only the yin corpse remained on the field. It stood there, blank and motionless.

The brief exchange ended, and the stands erupted in thunderous applause.

"Brilliant!"

"Maoshan Warlock and his yin corpse coordinate beautifully. The rhythm of their attacks was seamless. I genuinely thought Yuanshi Tianzun was done for."

"Did you catch the moment Yuanshi Tianzun threw his pistol? Did he do that purposely to set up the ambush, or was it accidental? If it was deliberate, how did he predict the explosion wouldn't work on the warlock?"

"These bouts between star fighters are something else. Every second is a crisis, and every move has so much layered detail behind it. It's absolutely thrilling."

The majority of the audience were Transcendent-tier Walkers. To the Saints and elders watching, there was nothing exceptional. But for these Walkers, it was a high-level demonstration of ability.

After a drawn-out silence, Zhang Yuanqing, the one with less experience to draw on, was forced to exit Night Wandering first.

Almost immediately, the yin corpse swept both arms outward. The silver rings lying scattered in their craters hummed to life and shot toward him, linking together mid-flight into a segmented whip that lashed at his midsection.

A wave of rushing air hit him like a wall. Zhang Yuanqing dug his feet into the ground and threw his upper body backward in a full bridge, bending himself nearly horizontal. The whip screamed past overhead.

Then, it happened again. A gleaming short blade materialized out of thin air just above his exposed stomach, and plunged downward.

Caught in his bridge stance, he had nowhere to go.

A vicious light flashed across Zhang Yuanqing's eyes. The Burst Pistol vanished from his hand, replaced by a blade that glinted with cold menace. He threw himself upward, into the knife, and simultaneously drove the Bloodthirsty Blade.

The short blade buried itself in his abdomen, sinking to the hilt. But the Bloodthirsty Blade, charged with every ounce of his strength, slammed into a pale barrier of light. The barrier held for a fraction of a second before it popped like a soap bubble, dissolving into scattered motes.

Maoshan Warlock yanked his knife free and backpedaled, avoiding the wounded man's counter.

Good. His barrier is broken now. Step one, complete.

Zhang Yuanqing hissed through his teeth. This injury hurts like hell. At least that knife wasn't an Enchanting Demon-class item.

He clutched his bleeding stomach and staggered backward.

That move he pulled wasn't reckless. He'd studied Wang Tai's files on the top ten fighters beforehand. Maoshan Warlock didn't carry anything like the Bloodthirsty Blade, and had no weapon with armor-piercing properties.

That was why he'd dared to trade a wound to disable the shield. The Bloodthirsty Blade hadn't disappointed him. Against energy barriers, its piercing effect was flawless.

A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the stands. Yuanshi Tianzun had clearly gotten the worse end of that second exchange. Much worse. If he weren't a Nocturnal Specter with powerful self-healing abilities—if he'd been a Fire Sage, a Scout, or a Water Ghost—that single stab wound would have decided the match.

The rankings really did mean something. Maoshan Warlock was a cut above.

A piercing wail split the air as the yin corpse cracked its whip straight at him. Zhang Yuanqing rolled, leapt, and dodged, narrowly avoiding blow after blow. The whip came within inches of connecting several times, and the spectators found themselves holding their breath.

He wasn't putting on a show. He was genuinely struggling. He had to evade the yin corpse's attacks while staying alert for the warlock's ambushes. It was like walking a tightrope. One clean hit from that whip would cost him half his life.

Maoshan Warlock fights just like I did against Ou Xiangrong. Hiding, ambushing, while the yin corpse handles the front line. I'm already wounded. If this drags on, that whip will eventually connect, or my condition will deteriorate enough for the enemy to land another sneak attack.

The right move is to target the yin corpse, and he knows that. That's why he's staying hidden, probably lurking near it, waiting for me to approach.

Zhang Yuanqing threw himself sideways, dodging a whip strike aimed at his skull, and activated Night Wandering, fading into invisibility.

He gripped the Bloodthirsty Blade and sprinted toward the yin corpse, silent and swift. Circling from the side to the front, he reversed his grip on the blade and poured everything he had into a single slash aimed at the yin corpse's neck. During his opening salvo, he'd already confirmed it wasn't a defensive type, and the arm rings it wore also suggested it wasn't built for close combat. This single strike from the Bloodthirsty Blade should take its head clean off.

Squelch.

The blade swept through the yin corpse's neck and met a dull, muted resistance.

The creature's head dissolved into a perfectly clear, transparent sphere of water, a water ball immune to all physical attacks.

A Water Ghost?!

This was a Water Ghost's corpse.

Zhang Yuanqing's eyes narrowed. Instinct drove his fists together, ready to trigger the Thug's Gauntlets and boil the yin corpse's head away. That was the best counter against a Water Ghost.

Whoooooo...

Without warning, a spectral wind swept across the arena, carrying with it a wailing, mournful cry. A staff wrapped in white paper thrust out from behind him at an angle and cracked a blow across his back with savage force.

His body went rigid. All color drained from his face. It felt as though his spirit had been torn apart from the inside. Blood seeped from his eyes, his nose, his ears. He felt pain beyond anything he had ever experienced. For the first time in his life, he had suffered a devastating blow to his spirit itself.

The Mourning Staff struck the flesh but damaged the soul.

On the other side of the arena, the yin corpse, recovering from its failed attack, retreated swiftly to the edge of the field. It threw both arms wide, and the whip broke apart into individual rings. They swarmed around Zhang Yuanqing, hovering on all sides.

Hummmm...

The rings resonated with each other, feeding on their shared magnetism, forming an invisible cage of force that locked him in place and made Night Wandering impossible.

"You've lost!" declared Maoshan Warlock. The pale, slender youth materialized, already drawing back the staff for a second strike.

Chaos erupted across the stands. Quite a few spectators were cursing, all of them Five Elements Alliance Walkers, their emotions running as hot as football fans watching their team concede a goal.

Guan Ya, Xie Lingxi, Bill, Annie, the Taiyi Sect members, the star fighters, and everyone who counted themselves as Yuanshi Tianzun's friend or enemy wore expressions as varied as the circumstances that produced them—disappointment, anxiety, cold satisfaction, and quiet glee.

As Maoshan Warlock raised the Mourning Staff, he caught sight of an odd smile on his caged opponent's face.

"Step two, complete."

The next instant, the silver rings clattered to the ground, their power extinguished.

In that razor-thin window, Zhang Yuanqing plunged into Night Wandering and vanished, dodging the incoming strike.

What just happened? Maoshan Warlock's stomach dropped. He immediately entered Night Wandering himself, wary of a follow-up attack, and turned to check on his yin corpse.

There, perched on top of the yin corpse's head, sat a round, adorable baby ghost with sparse tufts of wispy hair.

The yin corpse appeared to be under some kind of control, frozen completely in place.

In the section where the Taiyi Sect was seated, Sun Miaomiao shot to her feet. Her eyes locked onto the chubby little infant spirit on the field, and her breathing turned rapid.

He has a spirit servant? Maoshan Warlock's shock curdled into fury.

He had a spirit servant of his own, of course, but against a Nocturnal Specter, summoning it was tantamount to serving it up on a platter. Soul Devouring countered all spirit entities. For that same reason, neither side had used Astral Projection. It was an unspoken mutual agreement.

Zhang Yuanqing appeared beside the yin corpse and pressed a black mask painted with a white skull over its face. The savage light in the yin corpse's eyes went dead. Like a machine with its power cord yanked out, it ceased all function and toppled to the ground.

Color drained out of Maoshan Warlock's face. He forced himself to remain calm, as he frantically reached through his sea of consciousness for the bond with his yin corpse. No matter how desperately he tried, there was no response.

It's been sealed?! He steadied himself and, while his Night Wandering was still active, crept silently toward the fallen corpse. I have to remove that mask.

Zhang Yuanqing brought his fists together against his chest, unhurried, and slammed them into each other.

BOOM!

A savage shockwave erupted outward, sending a torrent of fire and fury rolling across the entire arena.

This time, his earlier groundwork paid off. Without the Heart-protecting Mirror's barrier, Maoshan Warlock caught the full force of the blast. He stumbled out of invisibility and staggered backward, his face blackened with soot.

Step three, Zhang Yuanqing thought silently.

"Watch your back!"

The shout came from the Taiyi Sect section.

Maoshan Warlock jolted and spun around. A powerful dark figure was bearing down on him, silent as death. The attacker's elbow snapped forward like a spear, driving its fist straight at him.

Reinforcements? Has the Five Elements Alliance abandoned all pretense of fair play? No, wait. That's a yin corpse.

Maoshan Warlock had no time for surprise. He threw himself sideways, barely dodging the straight punch. His center of gravity flowed like liquid, his feet tapping quickly against the ground as he made rapid adjustments to keep from falling over. He somehow stayed on his feet, displaying a balance that no Nocturnal Specter should possess.

The woven leg guards strapped to his shins were a Wood Demon item, granting the wearer extraordinary balance, perfect for climbing, dodging, or walking a tightrope.

In combat, that kind of stability was invaluable.

Crack, crack, crack!

Corpse No. 1 pressed forward, eyes blazing with murderous intent, launching into a vicious flurry of punches and kicks that drove Maoshan Warlock backward, overwhelming his defenses.

Maoshan Warlock felt a chill run through him. A Fire Sage? An Enchanting Demon?

His composure was cracking. The sudden reversal from dominance to desperation had come too fast, too completely. However, what truly deflated him was the elegance of Yuanshi Tianzun's strategy.

He'd had a spirit servant and a yin corpse the entire time, but held them back on purpose. He'd acted weak to lull his opponent into complacency. First he broke the barrier, then secretly deployed his spirit servant to seize control and then sealed away his own yin corpse. Every step had been calculated, every move, deliberate. The gap between them was undeniable.

Calm down. Stay calm. Free the yin corpse from the seal. That's the only chance to turn this around. He leaned into his superior balance, threw himself backward, and reached for the power of the Dark Moon to activate Night Wandering.

"AAAGH!"

A shroud of black energy engulfed his face as he clutched his head and screamed, a primal roar that came from somewhere deep in his subconscious. He lost any shred of rationality. Frustration and rage consumed him as raw instinct seized control. He threw himself at Corpse No. 1 with mindless fury, desperate to destroy the obstacle standing between him and victory.

Zhang Yuanqing held a straw doll in his hand, watching the warlock's descent into madness with calm, measured eyes. Step four, complete.

The Straw Doll was the decisive card. Its purpose was to force Maoshan Warlock to abandon Night Wandering.

A Nocturnal Specter who was committed to stalling and running could outlast anyone. Nobody could pin one down. Only by stripping the enemy of his reason could Corpse No. 1 end this quickly.

Crack! Crack! CRACK!

Each blow landed, heavier than the last. Corpse No. 1 hammered the warlock with fists and feet, fast and brutal. A Level 3 Nocturnal Specter trying to win a brawl against an Enchanting Demon of the same level? It was never going to happen.

Maoshan Warlock reeled backward, teeth flying, the bridge of his nose snapping, his ribs caving in one after another. However, stripped of all reason, he could only grit what remained of his teeth and charge forward, the concept of surrender lost to him entirely.

Seeing this, the armored swordsman rose to his feet and called out in a booming voice, "The match is over. Yuanshi Tianzun wins!"

Zhang Yuanqing snapped his fingers. Corpse No. 1 kicked Maoshan Warlock off his feet and planted a foot on his chest, standing tall and proud in the center of the arena.

Zhang Yuanqing turned toward the Taiyi Sect section and raised his voice for all to hear. "Who shouted that warning just now? Can't the Taiyi Sect handle a loss?"