Chapter 1405

The deafening explosion also masked another sharp, tearing sound: just as the guards were flung aside and Xue Zongwu closed his eyes, someone leapt from the trees to the side and lunged straight at Xue Zongwu.

This person ran with a strange gait, leaning forward as if about to topple at any moment, yet moved with astonishing speed and stability. A large fallen tree lay directly ahead, untouched by the manor's servants these past few days; as he vaulted over the log, he used hands and feet together, planting his palms on the wood and pushing off with his feet, light as a leopard.

The broken log actually helped him accelerate across five zhang, his water-dividing spear flashing with a faint glow as it thrust straight for Xue Zongwu's throat! Explosion, blast wave, blinding light, sneak attack—everything coordinated perfectly.

The attacker gave it his all, gangqi surging half a chi from the spear tip, aiming to end it in one strike.

Yet he still underestimated Xue Zongwu.

Xue Zongwu didn't even open his eyes, seemingly about to meet his doom in the Nine Netherworlds, but the assassin's thrust felt like stabbing a solid soft ball—

Suddenly, an invisible barrier appeared between Xue Zongwu and the attacker, solid yet elastic; the assassin's full-force blow was like hitting a ball with a stick, and instead rebounded, sending Xue Zongwu flying!

He didn't know this was a special artifact on Xue Zongwu's body that activated automatically, called "One Sail Smooth Wind"—actually a sail-shaped talisman that, at critical moments, deflects external force and protects its master, combining defense and escape in one.

But each use requires a fifteen-minute interval.

The force with which Weng Xing struck determined how far Xue Zongwu was sent flying.

He had gone all out; Xue Zongwu flew two zhang, landed, and opened his eyes to see the assassin.

Lo and behold, another black-clad figure, similarly masked.

As expected, this job required accomplices.

At that moment, the first black-clad figure also leapt from the woods, silent as he advanced to attack.

Time was precious; the window to assassinate Xue Zongwu was only a few breaths.

But the good news was, the soft-ball-like barrier around Xue Zongwu had vanished. The two speculated it was either an artifact or a divine ability, not usable constantly.

Their attack coordination was flawless, absolutely producing an effect greater than the sum of its parts; given Xue Zongwu's ferocity, failing to seize the initiative at first, after just a few breaths he found himself on the defensive.

Though their attire was shabby and their slogans laughable, their martial skill was truly formidable. Given Xue Zongwu's years of battlefield carnage, his initial response to their explosive assault left him somewhat overwhelmed.

He even suspected they were feigning weakness to lure him into underestimating them.

But as his mind stirred, a pale green light flared across his body.

Yuanli!

As a renowned general of the Yao State, standing on Yao State's soil, though he hadn't brought his hundred thousand troops, he could still mobilize abundant yuanli.

It sharpened his hearing and sight, quickened his reflexes and martial techniques, even enhanced his resistance to divine abilities.

In his eyes, the movements of the two black-clad figures suddenly seemed slowed by half a chou.

In a duel of masters, the difference is a hair's breadth; this half-chou delay was ample for Xue Zongwu. A phantom flickered behind him, a cold light slicing through the darkness toward Weng Xing's waist and abdomen.

This came suddenly; Weng Xing's move had aged, leaving him unable to retreat in time. Weng Xu, without choice, flicked his spear tip downward to deflect the blow for him.

Their previously relentless, mountain-flood-like assault suddenly faltered.

Half a breath—only half a breath's misalignment.

Though Weng Xu's other water-dividing spear came to cover, Xue Zongwu seized that half-breath to gather strength and launched a fierce counterattack!

Only then did the two opponents see clearly: another "Xue Zongwu" had appeared in place! Identical in height, build, attire, and expression, as if carved from the same mold, wielding a pair of battle-axes with equally fierce martial skill.

Body double technique! One Xue Zongwu was already hard to handle, now another had appeared.

The Weng brothers' scalps tingled slightly.

Those two opening sneak attacks were their peak effort of gathering essence, qi, and spirit into one strike, aiming for a stone-shattering, heaven-startling effect.

Yet Xue Zongwu had been caught off-guard by them, fighting two against one, yet showed no panic; once he unleashed yuanli and regained the initiative, he faintly seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

This bastard is truly hateful, his cultivation and martial skill genuinely formidable! Moreover, though Xue Zongwu's guards were disturbed by the explosion, they had withstood the initial blast wave and were already rising to rescue their master, leaving the Weng brothers little time.

Fortunately, the Weng brothers were no pushovers.

After such a violent explosion, thick smoke would inevitably follow. If it were broad daylight, onlookers would see the smoke not just as black-gray, but with an eerie pale green.

Mixed with the smoke spreading across the field were not only the pungent fumes of gunpowder, but also an indescribable stench!

This stench was like a room full of rotten fish and shrimp baked under the scorching dog-day sun for five full days, then flinging open the sealed door—releasing that terrifying instant.

Indescribable, making people want to vomit.

The guards on the ground, just rising, upon smelling this unique and shocking odor, doubled over and vomited profusely.

The physiological reaction to the stench was nearly independent of human will.

This time even Xue Zongwu's lieutenant and personal guards fell victim; their yuanli could resist many divine arts and even reduce blast damage, but offered little defense against olfactory attacks.

Especially when facing danger, breathing involuntarily quickens—making them succumb faster.

The Weng brothers thus gained another precious moment.

The smell of this smoke resembled He Lingchuan's fragrant rice balls in principle, differing in that the green smoke's main ingredient was the saliva and gastric fluid of the northern giant lizard. Both substances carry an irritating stench; the northern lizard's gastric fluid, when volatilized, strongly corrodes ordinary biological skin.

Yet Xue Zongwu fought on as usual, showing no discomfort, even shouting to his men: "Hold your breath, everyone hold your breath!"

He had held his breath since the explosion began, regulating his inner breath for combat. Whenever danger arose, he first held his breath—a habit cultivated during his early training on Qingbie Mountain, which had saved him countless times over the years.

Thick smoke began to fill the field, visibility dropping; the three fought fast, and the guards three zhang away could no longer see clearly, only catching occasional sparks flying ahead—signs of clashing weapons.

The more Xue Zongwu fought, the more astonished he became: these two impostors were indeed skilled, stronger than the two lieutenants he usually carried, and with their seamless coordination, they could unleash eight-tenths of their ability from just five-tenths of skill.

But now he had another doubt: he had originally thought these two were Qingyang's men, who had captured and killed money Yu in Frost Creek, seized the ledger, to gather evidence against him for Qingyang.

Yet these two had run all the way to Little Peach Manor to assassinate him! That was strange. What use would Qingyang have for his life?

To accuse him in court, thereby damaging the Yao King's face and reducing his authority—that was the real task of this old demoness Qingyang.

Those who plot the big picture consider all angles; his conflict with her hadn't yet escalated to lethal measures, so why would she bother? Then these two couldn't be Qingyang's men after all?

Meaning, the ledger wasn't taken by Qingyang? Yes, he had always felt something off about the Frost Creek incident, but couldn't put his finger on it. Now he finally realized!

If Qingyang wanted to accuse him in court, besides physical evidence she should also have left key human witnesses—why kill money Yu? She could have just abducted him!

Money Yu had been Xue Zongwu's trusted aide for years; if he spoke up, others would surely believe him.

So—

The conclusion was obvious: the killer of money Yu and thief of the ledger had nothing to do with Qingyang!

Upon realizing this, Xue Zongwu's entire being relaxed.

What does it matter if those account books fall into someone else's hands? Let alone a few unclear accounts—even if the entire ledger were problematic, he would not fear anyone reporting it to the King of Yao—except for Qingyang.

Among Xue Zongwu's personal guards were also spellcasters; seeing the thick fog refuse to disperse and the foul stench assaulting their senses, they pinched a spell seal and shouted loudly:

"Wind comes!"

The Wind Summoning Seal worked well—when he pinched the seal, a great wind arose from nowhere, blowing the small trees in the garden to sway uniformly.

Yet the rolling thick smoke still lingered, and the foul odor could not be blown away by the wind.

They naturally did not know that Weng Su held in his hand a treasure named "Smoke Pouch"; the smoke it exhaled could persist for fifty breaths even in a gale without dispersing.

It had only one drawback: storing smoke internally was rather laborious, requiring the master to manually fill it with smoke.

In the blink of an eye, the thick smoke had spread to a radius of ten zhang; anyone standing outside the smoke cloud could not see what was happening inside.

Xue Zongwu let out a loud shout, repelled the Weng brothers twice, then strode forward and rushed outward.

Since the smoke would not disperse, he simply walked away.

He had legs—why must he fight to the death within the smoke? Moreover, he had noticed the smoke was amiss: besides its astonishing stench, the exposed skin and eyes felt a slight stinging sensation.

This smoke, it turned out, even had a corrosive effect on the skin!

The guards of Xiaotao Mountain Villa could not bear it either, and all fled the smoke's range.

They had no Yuan power; even if they had a little true power protecting their bodies, the smoke's corrosiveness to their bodies remained strong—two men covered their eyes with their rotting hands as they ran outward, in pain but daring not to open their mouths, lest their tongues also suffer.

Xue Zongwu's subordinates finally overcame the urge to vomit a few times in quick succession and came rushing to aid him. The thick smoke that could obscure ordinary people's vision had little confusing effect on them.

During this time, the Weng brothers launched their fiercest assault on Xue Zongwu, yet he blocked them all.

And as time passed, as the opponent's personal guards joined the battle, this advantage gap would only widen further.

Xue Zongwu clearly knew that defending and waiting for his guards to swarm in was the optimal solution, yet when facing two opponents alone, he still attacked with grand, open movements, utterly fearless.

Such confidence and bearing could only be forged through life-and-death combat on the battlefield.

When his radiance grew even greater, Weng Su knew this mission was hopeless, and immediately shouted: "No more fighting—retreat!"

(End of Chapter)