Chapter 117

"What do you mean?" Ma Xianhong heard Zhou Shuo's words, his face involuntarily changing color—could the company be planning to use some means against the village?

"It means nothing; you brought this on yourself. Even if those people die, they won't remember you, Ma Xianhong, because if it weren't for you, they wouldn't have entered this circle, nor would they die…" Zhou Shuo watched Ma Xianhong's changing expression, gave a silent smile, and continued his verbal misdirection, making the other side believe the company intended to slaughter the village.

"You beasts……" Ma Xianhong felt his heart sink into an abyss, his eyes reddening as he looked at Zhou Shuo; he reached out and grabbed the bronze bell that had emerged from the small sphere, shaking it to produce a crisp tinkling.

"Ma Xianhong, this is all your fault." Zhou Shuo heard the familiar soul-scattering bell ring, tightly guarding his spirit within, then pointed a finger—his flying sword swooshed forward to stab the opponent, but before it could get close, it was blocked by the black-red iron ball appearing before him.

"Come back." Zhou Shuo watched the iron ball intercepting the sword light, his eyes flickering slightly; he hooked his hand, the thrusting sword light halted and instantly flew back to his hand.

"Sudden wailing roar." Ma Xianhong saw Zhou Shuo recall his sword light; his bronze bell was ineffective, so he let out a loud shout. In the sky, a lion-headed creature with dragonfly wings leapt up, its mouth opening like a fish's maw, releasing a roar loud enough to pierce eardrums, and it lunged downward at Zhou Shuo.

"Span the four directions." Zhou Shuo slightly closed his eyes, his pores contracting to shut out the sound wave's influence, his body shifting slightly left, his right hand drawing the long sword to his side; his peripheral gaze locked onto the beast-head "Sudden wailing roar" lunging at him, and the radiance on his sword blade extended outward, forming a three-meter-long blade of cold light.

The three-meter-long blade of cold light swept fiercely, the straight light bending into an arc that skimmed the oncoming beast-head artifact; the sound waves in the air halted abruptly, cracks spread across the artifact, this device capable of emitting intimidating sound waves and ramming attacks split into two pieces, falling to the ground and shattering into fragments.

"Damn it." Ma Xianhong watched Zhou Shuo cleave the "Sudden wailing roar" with a single sword, and couldn't help cursing aloud.

"Sect Leader Ma, you're also unlucky to run into someone like me who's your nemesis." Zhou Shuo looked at the foul-mouthed fellow, his eyebrows twitching as he stroked his narrow long sword; Ma Xianhong's six beads earlier and this "Sudden wailing roar" are both formidable artifacts—if their quality were a bit better, it's uncertain who would be the one suffering loss.

"Nemesis, I'd like to see today just who gets the better of whom." Ma Xianhong looked at Zhou Shuo, red light rising in his eyes; with a spring of his body he lunged straight at his opponent, and behind him, the white doll lacking facial features but with three red indicator lights raised its right hand, shooting a stone from its palm.

Zhou Shuo saw Ma Xianhong flying toward him, his hairs standing on end; he swung his long sword, the cold light blocking the incoming stone, which struck the blade and shattered with a crack, though it also slowed Zhou Shuo's movement, preventing him from using the sword blade against Ma Xianhong lunging at him; he could only bend his left arm to block the frontal punch.

"Not wrong, just sharp." Ma Xianhong, shrouded in a layer of golden light, looked at the fellow blocking his punch with his left arm, glancing at his right-hand long sword; this flying sword is indeed sharp, but only sharp—just avoid the blade's edge.

Zhou Shuo blocked Ma Xianhong's punch with his left arm, then his right hand shot up repeatedly; his long sword swished, releasing four sharp sword qi slashes toward the opponent, yet Ma Xianhong didn't even block— the large iron ball with black-red lines, resembling a high-tech device, perpetually hovering above his head generated an invisible force that sucked in all four invisible sword qi at once.

"Interesting." Zhou Shuo watched the large iron ball absorb his sword qi, stepping back; this thing can devour and absorb energy attacks like sword qi, rendering the flying sword's light useless; aside from this iron ball, all of Ma Xianhong's many artifacts amount only to the white doll behind him.

"Can't absorb it." Ma Xianhong saw Zhou Shuo retreating, and without hesitation surged forward to pursue, while observing that his iron-ball artifact, the "stealing-devouring beast," does far more than just suck up sword qi—it can also devour the true qi of nearby living beings—but at close range, the stealing-devouring beast cannot draw any true qi from Zhou Shuo.

"Still getting in my face." Zhou Shuo saw the golden light covering Ma Xianhong as he charged forward; his eyebrows drooped, he flung his long sword, which upon leaving his hand instantly turned into light and shot toward the distant white doll.

Discarding the flying sword in his hand, Zhou Shuo caught Ma Xianhong's incoming punch, pushed it aside, then swung both arms, assuming the Taiji single whip posture, and unleashed the Thunder Moving Nine Heavens Fist of the God-Sky Dao; his arms became like noodles, his fists raining down like raindrops on the golden light surrounding Ma Xianhong.

"I……" Ma Xianhong watched the fellow instantly unleash countless fist forces against his protective golden light, his eyes widening in disbelief—just what is this guy, a person or a monster?

"Crack!" The golden light enveloping Ma Xianhong, under the barrage of fist forces, finally gave way and shattered; as the golden light broke, the three thumb-sized beads on his neck glowed faintly, the middle one cracking—clearly the core of the treasure—but after all three beads shone together, the cracked bead restored itself.

The three beads hung steady on his neck; Ma Xianhong, still shaken, retreated and planted his feet, while Zhou Shuo stood where he was, equally bewildered, for after he had smashed the opponent's protective golden light with his fists, he found he couldn't actually strike the body—each punch seemed blocked by an invisible force and then sent back unchanged.

"What's going on?" Zhou Shuo looked at his own fist, then at Ma Xianhong stopped in the distance—how did he manage that? Even if the artifact can defend, it also returns the incoming fist force unchanged—how is that done?

"Whoosh!" The air faintly tore; Zhou Shuo had no time to think much, leaping from his spot to dodge the incoming sword from the side and the white doll burrowing up from the ground to ambush him; the two collided, and the sword light pierced the white doll straight through.

Zhou Shuo looked at the white doll pierced by the flying sword; a thought struck him, and the sword instantly released countless sword qi, shredding the doll into pieces; this object shows two abilities—one is to flick stones, the other to burrow underground, like a semi-intelligent robot; even if left as debris, it could still ambush unexpectedly.

"Seen through." Ma Xianhong watched the white doll pierced by the flying sword and then torn apart by sword qi, a flicker of pity crossing his eyes.

"Sect Leader Ma, quite the thrill—we're evenly matched, half a catty against eight taels!" Zhou Shuo retrieved his flying sword, glanced at Ma Xianhong with the stealing-devouring beast atop his head, and laughed.

"Half a catty against eight taels? Wait till you break my Three Treasures Beads before you talk." Ma Xianhong looked at the boastful fellow and let out a cold snort.

"The Three Treasures Beads!" Zhou Shuo looked at the displeased youth, glanced at the three beads on his neck—their defense and ability to return incoming fist force unchanged must be this item, called the Three Treasures Beads; we need to figure out how to deal with it!

"Damn it……" Ma Xianhong glared at the fellow scanning him, his teeth grinding slightly; he glanced at Feng Baobao nearby and the distant village ablaze with firelight, then, with a thought, the stealing-devouring beast atop his head surged toward Zhou Shuo while he himself followed close behind.

"Get out of my way." Zhou Shuo saw the large iron ball rushing at him; he struck it with a left-hand fist imprint, sending it flying backward, then flung his right-hand long sword toward the oncoming Ma Xianhong, and at the moment the opponent was cowed by the sword's edge, he reversed and launched a charge.

"I don't believe it." Zhou Shuo watched the fellow dodge the sword's edge, quickly closed the distance, green viscous fluid oozing from his right palm, then he slammed it down hard onto the opponent.

"Smack." The double palms wrapped in green yin thunder struck Ma Xianhong's body; the yin thunder bounced off, while the palm force rebounded, shaking Zhou Shuo's wrist.

"Useless." Ma Xianhong seized Zhou Shuo's shaken wrist with one hand, the other thrust straight at his chest, his face breaking into a smug smile—the defense of the Three Treasures Beads is nearly impregnable.

Faced with Ma Xianhong's smugness, Zhou Shuo darkened his face, shook his whole body, broke free from the grapple, evaded the heart-strike, then reached out to seize the opponent's probing arm, twisting it outward with all his might, hoping to break it—but Ma Xianhong's martial foundation wasn't poor; he turned his body, his arm naturally bending, thus neutralizing the attack, and the two instantly grappled.

The two figures traded punches and kicks, sometimes separating, sometimes clinging; even the flying sword and the stealing-devouring beast were tossed aside; Ma Xianhong's golden light flickered on and off, each time shattered by Zhou Shuo, the beads on his neck breaking and reforming, breaking again, as Zhou Shuo continually smashed the golden light, which kept reappearing.

"Never seen before, such a solid body and spirit." Ma Xianhong's eyes darted during the scuffle; this was the first time he'd encountered such a monster—one who had honed his flying sword to razor sharpness, yet possessed a body and spirit as solid as a warrior, ignoring soul attacks, and whose punches hit like a beast.

"MMP." Zhou Shuo likewise faced for the first time an opponent with a turtle-shell-like defense; his physique in the Yang God realm is truly that of an immortal, yet he couldn't break Ma Xianhong's defense—what kind of defense could withstand such blows, where does his endurance lie? Would one have to shatter the void to break it?

"Shatter the void." Zhou Shuo's eyes twitched slightly; he jabbed an elbow, shoving Ma Xianhong away—could this fellow's artifact be a defense forged from time and space?

"Can't hold on, time's almost up." Ma Xianhong felt the limit of his artifact's endurance, retreated following Zhou Shuo's elbow, took two shallow breaths, then shifted his gaze slightly, causing a layer of golden light to arise on his body.

"The golden light, rising again." Zhou Shuo watched the fellow's body generate golden light, narrowing his eyes; during their sparring, the opponent's golden light had flickered on and off, each time shattered by him, yet when there was no golden light, the opponent's defense was actually stronger than when the light was present—there's some invisible discrepancy between them.