Chapter 14: With One-Third of Yang Guo

Nimoxing’s strength was astonishing, his bizarre techniques coming fast; Yelu Qi applied the Quanzhen Sect’s martial arts, grand and rigorous, holding his ground firmly, yet he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, so he shouted to Guo Fu: “Miss, take those two and leave at once!”

Guo Fu looked at the young man fighting—though dressed in Mongolian attire, his features were strikingly handsome, his martial skill extraordinary—and her heart leapt at his aid. “If we leave, we all leave!” As she spoke, she wielded her sword, deploying the Peach Blossom Island’s Falling Petals Sword Art, ready to fight shoulder to shoulder with Yelu Qi.

The moment her sword extended, Nimoxing unleashed a charged strike; the force traveled through her blade straight into her arm, twisting her wrist and sending the sword flying from her grip.

Nimoxing, having learned Guo Fu’s identity, had wished to capture her alive, hence his prolonged efforts; now that she had reinforcements, he sought a swift end, wielding his serpent-shaped weapon with bizarre, relentless strikes, pressing hard against Yelu Qi.

Nimoxing’s serpent weapon could bend or harden, shifting endlessly, its power overwhelming; Yelu Qi felt his true Qi congeal in his throat, barely holding on, with no chance to draw breath.

“Hit!”

Suddenly, a longsword slipped into Yelu Qi’s swordplay; Yelu Qi, fully focused on Nimoxing, had no defense against it—but as the two blades intertwined, each variation amplified the other’s power, startling Nimoxing so much he leapt back with a startled “Whoa!”

Only then did Yelu Qi exhale in relief, glancing at Yang Guo beside him—his striking beauty—and nodded to him. Yang Guo had saved him from death; Yelu Qi naturally felt united in purpose and deep gratitude toward him.

“Use Horizontal Desert!”

Yang Guo immediately began directing.

He and Yelu Qi had no telepathic rapport; they could only communicate before striking. After this command, Yelu Qi shifted his sword technique, while Yang Guo inserted his blade between, their swords sweeping left and right in a seamless circle.

Seeing their flawless coordination, Nimoxing poured all his strength into his serpent weapon, slamming it hard against both Yang Guo’s and Yelu Qi’s swords.

“Clang!”

Yelu Qi’s sword was struck back, but Yang Guo’s blade pierced through, stabbing straight for Nimoxing’s brow.

This was an attack forcing defense; Nimoxing dared not linger, pulling back his strike. Yelu Qi’s sword, rebounding from the impact, swept upward, slicing toward Nimoxing’s eyes.

Nimoxing retreated again—he was already unmatched in agility—and now, determined to flee, even their swift blades couldn’t catch him. But this standoff pushed Nimoxing farther away, allowing Guo Fu to rise again, and the fallen Wu brothers also struggled to their feet.

“Fu-mei, are you hurt?”

Wu Dunru asked Guo Fu anxiously.

Guo Fu shot him a glare. “Whether I’m hurt or not, you couldn’t protect me anyway.”

The Wu brothers were retainers of the Dali Kingdom; their lord, the Southern Emperor, had once saved Huang Rong’s life, and Guo Jing never forgot that debt, taking them as disciples and teaching them diligently. But though Guo Jing’s martial skill was supreme, his words often failed to convey the subtleties.

The Wu brothers, preoccupied with jealousy and rivalry, fell further behind in martial skill.

Hearing Guo Fu’s words, their faces flushed; they turned to the battlefield, watching Yang Guo and Yelu Qi’s flawless sword coordination driving their formidable foe back step by step.

The very essence of youthful heroism was laid bare.

Guo Fu stared fixedly at the two youths—both paragons of youth, their looks and skill far surpassing the Wu brothers—and in her eyes, these two heroes seemed oblivious to her, already clinging together as if no one else existed.

Nimoxing, exchanging blows repeatedly, was stunned: had he faced either alone, he could have seized the upper hand within fifty moves and captured them within a hundred. But now, with their twin swords united, they were pushing him into retreat.

Even as a man from India, he found their tender, intimate coordination too advanced.

“Dingyang Needle!”

Yelu Qi deployed Dingyang Needle.

Yang Guo, wielding his sword beside him, gazed at Yelu Qi with deep, lingering eyes, their movements perfectly synchronized. After gaining another advantage over Nimoxing, Yelu Qi whispered, “Brother, let’s focus on the fight.”

The Jade Maiden’s Pure Heart Sword Art was a lover’s technique; as Yang Guo wielded it, his spirit naturally infused emotion into the movements, making his gaze subtly alluring, with invisible threads connecting him to Yelu Qi.

Such a gaze, and their closeness, sent chills down Yelu Qi’s spine.

“Just focus on your own sword!”

Yang Guo grew more impatient. His relentless strikes had driven Nimoxing back, and seeing Guo Fu and the others rise, he no longer wished to fight. He warned Nimoxing: “Shorty, get out while you still can!”

Nimoxing, short and dark, flew into a rage. “You’re the ones polluting my eyes—you’re the real bastards!” Enraged, he leapt away, seized a three-hundred-pound boulder, then, with his lightness skill intact, swung the massive stone against Yang Guo and Yelu Qi.

This was the Indian martial art “Shakyamuni Throws the Elephant”—legend said Shakyamuni once hurled an elephant into the sky; it fell three days later, gouging deep trenches into the earth. Later, Indian masters created this extraordinary external art, capable of hurling colossal weights with immense force.

With the boulder in hand, neither Yang Guo nor Yelu Qi could withstand him.

The Du Gu Qiu Bai’s Heavy Sword realm described the heavy sword as edgeless, its brilliance lying in simplicity—strength overcomes ten tricks. Now, with Nimoxing wielding the boulder, even Yang Guo and Yelu Qi’s most refined swordplay became mere showmanship.

“Dare you face my strike!”

Nimoxing roared.

“Run! Run! Run!!!”

Seeing the danger, Yang Guo shouted, sheathed his sword, and fled. The Ancient Tomb Sect’s lightness skill was peerless—he leapt lightly, vanishing far away. Seeing this, Yelu Qi, Guo Fu, and the others scattered.

But Nimoxing fixed his gaze on Yang Guo, hoisted the boulder, and hurled it toward him.

The crash sent cold sweat breaking over Yang Guo—he barely escaped by the Ancient Tomb lightness skill’s uncanny agility, dodging the boulder by a hair. Nimoxing leapt again, caught up to the boulder, embraced it, spun it around, and hurled it once more at Yang Guo.

“Go help him!”

Lu Wushuang urgently shook Gu Qing’s arm.

“Hold steady—we’ll win.”

Gu Qing patted Lu Wushuang, drew a bit of Good Deed Points from her, then leapt forward like a wisp of smoke, racing toward Nimoxing.

Originally, Gu Qing had only intended to rescue Guo Fu. But Yelu Qi’s swordplay made him realize today was the chance to kill Nimoxing here. So he let Yang Guo enter first, hoping Yang Guo would draw out Nimoxing’s techniques, clearing obstacles for Gu Qing’s assassination. Of course, victory was better—but if Yang Guo lost, Nimoxing’s head still bore Yang Guo’s one-third contribution.

Now Gu Qing had memorized most of Nimoxing’s techniques, and Nimoxing had drained much of his internal Qi. Gu Qing’s surprise attack aimed for death!

(End of Chapter)