Chapter 57: The Sword in the Umbrella

After Xing Guolong spat out the first mouthful, he could no longer hold back—he spat out two more in rapid succession, then lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the infinite, deep darkness above, breathing out but not in, his breaths hissing out three times before he fell completely still.

Xing Guolong died in utter confusion—right to the end, he never understood how he had died.

Lao Ba took a few steps forward, and when the explosion occurred, he felt as if a giant hand had suddenly shoved him hard from behind.

With his seventh-rank Wu Xiu strength, he couldn’t stabilize his stance—he was flung forward and crashed heavily two zhang away.

While still in midair, Lao Ba felt as if a mosquito had bitten his back—then another bite, then another…

He lost count eventually, because a heavy blow struck the back of his skull!

A shard of the sword pellet had struck him directly on the back of his head.

It pierced his scalp and lodged itself against his skull.

The “bronze skin, iron bones” of a seventh-rank Wu Xiu was indeed formidable. But even if you truly forged a full suit of bronze armor and stood there as a target, let the Divine Machine Camp fire blossom shells from their artisan cannons—would that armor hold?

After merging with the explosive core’s properties, the sword pellet’s power far surpassed ordinary blossom shells.

Yet seventh-rank Wu Xiu had extraordinarily vigorous blood and qi, their vitality more than double that of other cultivators at the same level.

Lao Ba lay on the ground, then struggled to sit up a moment later, reached back with his hand, and felt seven or eight small wounds, swelling and gushing blood.

Lao Ba tried to seal his skin membrane, but now he felt powerless to do so.

Xu Yuan hid behind the umbrella; though he had retreated over twenty zhang, he still kept a precaution ready.

As expected, this explosion was terrifying—even at this distance, over a dozen sword pellet shards pattered against the umbrella’s surface.

The blast wave surged forward, and Xu Yuan and the umbrella swayed violently several times before he stabilized.

After the explosion subsided, Xu Yuan remained crouched, still concealed behind the umbrella, steadily pushing it forward ten zhang—leaving only six or seven zhang between himself and Lao Ba.

At this moment, Lao Ba sat up.

After a brief pause, Xu Yuan advanced another five zhang—leaving less than two zhang between himself and Lao Ba.

Lao Ba grinned, raised his hand, and made as if to unleash another “Wu Mi.”

But each time he tried to gather strength, the energy rose only to leak out with the blood pouring from his back wounds—he could not summon enough power to release a “Void Receiving Force.”

At the moment Lao Ba moved to strike, Xu Yuan knew all his methods were useless against a seventh-rank Wu Xiu.

Only the core’s properties offered a chance to turn the tide unexpectedly!

So Xu Yuan, disregarding his regret over the sword pellet, poured nearly half its core properties into it.

He didn’t want to pour more—not because he didn’t wish to, but because the sword pellet’s upper limit was exactly that.

Any more, and it would explode uncontrollably.

Thus, though Xu Yuan had appeared thoroughly prepared before battle, he hadn’t held the three-eye fire Chong in hand—he’d quietly tucked it at his waist, ready to draw, but concealed beneath his robe.

These men must have investigated him—they likely knew his stepmother was an “Old Artisan.”

Xu Yuan had hidden every “New Artisan” item on his person, to eliminate even the slightest possibility of arousing Xing Guolong’s suspicion.

From behind the umbrella, Xu Yuan extended a three-eye fire Chong !

The three-eye fire Chong could kill a Divine Cultivator like Lao Qian, but it couldn’t pierce a seventh-rank Wu Xiu’s “bronze skin, iron bones.”

Yet now Lao Ba was wounded all over his body, his skull severely injured, unable to stand or unleash “Wu Mi”—Xu Yuan believed he couldn’t withstand three shots.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Xu Yuan emptied the fire Chong at Lao Ba.

Lao Ba remained unharmed!

The three bullets had flown off somewhere unknown!

Xu Yuan instantly sensed danger and retreated rapidly, shielding his vital points with his skin core, pulling his body as far as possible behind the umbrella.

A massive, heavy force suddenly slammed violently against the umbrella.

Xu Yuan was blasted backward, rolling twice on the ground, hearing Lao Ba’s roaring laughter—his mind filled with shock:

At this distance, I couldn’t have missed all three shots.

Even if one bullet struck, Lao Ba, even if he could still endure it, would have reacted somehow—but now, absolutely nothing.

Xu Yuan rapidly pondered the reason, when suddenly Lao Ba stood up—his wounds still bleeding, his injuries seemingly healing, though slower than before.

Xu Yuan quickly increased the distance between himself and Lao Ba.

But as soon as he moved, he realized Lao Ba was already standing before him, grinning fiercely as he swung another punch.

Thud!

The punch struck the umbrella’s surface and hurled Xu Yuan backward again.

A flash of insight struck Xu Yuan—he remembered his father once mentioning a rare Fa Xiu: the “Wei” Law!

A “Law” that defied all worldly common sense.

Xu Yuan had “Soaring Cloud” and “Riding Wind” talismans on his legs; though Lao Ba was a seventh-rank Wu Xiu, Xu Yuan had already confirmed during their initial fight that Lao Ba was slower than him.

Yet despite clearly increasing the distance between them, Lao Ba had inexplicably closed in twice.

The “Wei” Law had reversed his sense of direction.

Front became back, up became down, left became right.

“The three shots I fired at Lao Ba… actually hit behind me!” Xu Yuan thought inwardly, yet still puzzled: “If this ‘Wei’ Law can reverse common sense, why not reverse our ‘life’ into ‘death’ directly?

Why did they need to send someone in to kill me?

Why didn’t Lao Ba reverse his ‘injury’ into ‘no injury’?”

Xu Yuan gradually understood: the Fa Xiu wielding the “Wei” Law had not yet reached that level.

His “Wei” Law could reverse certain aspects of common sense, but he couldn’t wield it arbitrarily.

Even the reversal of his own directional perception had only been imposed on himself after he had killed one and severely wounded another.

“If these two had moved at once, and the Fa Xiu had reversed my directional sense immediately, I’d already be a corpse—this proves it: this is the Fa Xiu’s true limit.”

The cost of the “Wei” Law was immense; once pushed to its limit, the Fa Xiu might not survive either.

Xu Yuan fully understood: “He didn’t want to die, and he believed two seventh-rank Wu Xiu could kill me with certainty—so he never used his ultimate ability.”

“If that’s the case…” Xu Yuan swiftly calculated in his mind.

Lao Ba charged forward, face twisted in fury.

Xu Yuan’s face showed panic and confusion; he dragged the umbrella backward in disarray.

As expected, he collided head-on with Lao Ba again—Lao Ba sneered, slapped the umbrella aside with a palm like a fan, and punched straight at Xu Yuan’s chest!

Thud!

The punch landed squarely.

Xu Yuan spat out a mouthful of blood—though Lao Ba stood right before him, the blood didn’t splatter on his face or head, but fell behind Xu Yuan himself—Xu Yuan had fully confirmed his deduction!

Lao Ba sensed something was off—a mere eighth-rank Dan Xiu, after taking one of his punches, should have collapsed instantly. Had his strength really decayed so severely after being wounded?

But Wu Xiu rarely overthought—if one punch wasn’t enough, just hit again!

As Lao Ba raised his fist, he saw Xu Yuan suddenly pull out the umbrella’s handle—inside it hid a slender sword.

Xu Yuan reversed his grip and stabbed backward.

Ssssh!

The slender sword inexplicably pierced through Lao Ba’s left eye!

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(End of Chapter)