Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3034: Putting On A Show

The arrogant man’s steps halted only briefly after Meng Bai’s subtle warning.

He turned once more, fury in his eyes as if the mere notion of being challenged had scratched the polished surface of his ego. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a crimson-bladed sword slipped into his hand, the glint of its edge catching the light from a nearby Earth Flame lamp.

"You dare insult me and think to walk away unharmed?" he barked. "You think because you’ve got a few beasts and a mouth on you, you’re untouchable?"

Meng Bai tensed. His hand subtly reached into his robes, fingers brushing against the jade slip tied to his inner belt. With a silent pulse of spiritual will, he sent a quick message to Daoist Chu: "He drew his sword. Should I run?"

Daoist Chu, observing from the shaded tavern entrance across the wide square, narrowed his eyes as he assessed the unfolding situation. His gaze flicked between the arrogant man, the surrounding crowd, and the inn entrance that remained conspicuously quiet.

"Engage him," came the swift response through the jade slip."If things turn bad, I’ll intervene. But I suspect this may lure out the tracker. They may be waiting to return, but hesitating due to our presence. A public commotion might just be the smokescreen we need."

Meng Bai blinked in surprise but quickly calmed his nerves. Daoist Chu was rarely wrong in his deductions. If this minor street battle helped push their plans forward, so be it.

With a determined breath, Meng Bai turned to face the man, his spear materializing into his hand in a ripple of water essence. "Fine," he said, his tone no longer polite. "You want a fight? Let’s see if you can back up that big mouth."

A ring of distance formed as the surrounding spectators stepped back with practiced ease. Conflicts like these were nothing new in Ash Crown City. No one intervened. In fact, a few hawkers had already begun taking impromptu bets.

"Five mid-grade stones on the brat with the tiny bird!" one yelled. "Ten on Young Master Niu!" cried another. "That kid’s done for!"

Meng Bai didn’t care.

He took his stance. Water qi swirled at his feet as he entered the foundational form of the Nine Strikes Mountain Piercing Spear—his hands steady, his gaze calm. Having long since mastered it, he could effortlessly combine it with his water elemental affinity now.

His opponent lunged in a flash, a wide, arrogant slash meant more for intimidation than precision. Meng Bai read it instantly. His spear tip curved to meet the strike with minimal force, redirecting the blade in a small arc away from his center.

The clash rang like a gong, startling some nearby cultivators.

Young Master Niu growled. "You deflected that? How!?"

Meng Bai didn’t answer. He stepped forward and unleashed a quick thrust aimed at the man’s shoulder—deliberately not lethal. The arrogant youth stumbled backward, barely catching the spear’s movement, his sword lashing up defensively in an arc far too wide.

’Sloppy,’ Meng Bai noted. ’Definitely someone used to relying on brute strength and status, not refined technique.’

Their blades met again.

This time, Meng Bai moved with calculated precision, his water spirit qi-imbued spear fluid and unrelenting. Every motion was sharp, every strike subtle in its intent—to control, not overpower. The Mountain Piercing Spear may have been built on power, but in Meng Bai’s hands, it danced with flowing adaptability.

"Why can’t I hit you!?" the young man shouted, frustrated. "You’re only a Dao Shell cultivator!"

Meng Bai didn’t bother replying.

He ducked under a swing, pivoted, and delivered a Earth-Shaking Sweep skill’s strike to the legs. His opponent stumbled again, nearly falling, barely saving face with a clumsy parry.

Daoist Chu, still observing from afar, nodded slightly in appreciation. ’Good. The boy’s not just fighting back—he’s drawing attention. Not just from the crowd, but from any hidden eyes as well.’

He let his immortal sense expand ever so slightly, no more than a ripple across the spiritual surface of the alley. If the Hooded Tracker was indeed nearby, this would be the perfect moment to slip into the inn unnoticed.

Back at the battle, Meng Bai was slowly turning the tide—not by overwhelming strength but by exposing every weakness in his opponent’s style. He parried a thrust, slipped to the side, and tapped his spear butt against the youth’s back with a flourish that made the crowd chuckle.

"Looks like the brat’s winning!" one bystander shouted.

"No way!" another countered. "That must be some sect technique. He’s just a show-off!"

But Young Master Niu was no longer hearing the crowd. His breathing was ragged, sweat pouring down his forehead. With a snarl, he infused his sword with a burning qi and lunged again.

Meng Bai’s eyes sharpened.

This strike was far more dangerous—reckless but empowered by real killing intent.

Ashy screeched sharply, her wings spreading on his shoulder. Xiao Yin and Xiao Yang hissed, ready to strike from his sleeves.

But Meng Bai didn’t need them.

He stepped into the strike, spun his spear water elemental qi wrapping around it, and used the rotational force to deflect the attack, a wave of water pushing forth. Then, in one fluid motion, he spun and slammed the blunt end of his spear into the man’s gut.

Thud!

Young Master Niu flew back, crashing into a stack of crates and collapsing with a groan.

The crowd exploded into gasps, laughter, and cheers.

"Spit up those stones, I told you the brat would win!"

Daoist Chu nodded. ’It’s done. The crowd’s attention is high. Time to move.’

Without a word, he slipped around the corner and vanished down the alley toward the inn. The moment had come.

Back in the square, Meng Bai stood still, panting lightly as the three spirit beasts chittered in pride.

Ashy fluffed her feathers. "That’s what happens when you mess with the Ghost Boy."

Meng Bai smiled faintly and looked toward the alley. ’Hope it worked...’