Chapter 3651: You Might Not Be Able to Kill Me Today!

Speaking of which, it happened fast—before Wu Bolin could even figure it out, that bowl-thick massive lightning had already split down from the sky, exploding instantly before him.

This explosion wasn't trivial—it wasn't just a booming sound; the blinding light also left him temporarily blinded, and worse, a fierce pain shot rapidly from his palm to his whole body, the immense current making all his muscles spasm violently at once, his entire body flung backward by the lightning, even the long sword in his hand flying free.

The agony sent him flying backward to crash on the ground, his clothes from head to toe already in tatters, hair and beard burnt into a charred lump—had his cultivation not been strong enough, he'd have been blasted to dust!

This bolt of heavenly lightning had left Wu Bolin seven parts cooked, eight parts raw; he wiped his hair, once ethereal immortal strands now turning to fine black powder at a touch, eyebrows and beard sharing the same fate.

Wu Bolin didn't need a mirror to guess his miserable state; he struggled to his feet, blood-red eyes locking onto Ye Chen: "Brat, you're courting death!"

Ye Chen looked at him with a cold smirk, waved one hand, and shouted again: "Lightning, come!"

Wu Bolin hadn't even managed to retrieve his sword when Ye Chen unleashed another heavenly lightning bolt from the sky in an instant.

This left him utterly horrified; he hastily channeled spiritual energy into his legs, his form suddenly shooting forward at breakneck speed before rolling with the momentum—just as the lightning struck, he barely rolled clear, the ice behind him instantly blasted into a large crater by the lightning!

Wu Bolin gritted his teeth in fury—he had no long-range attack treasure, so being hit twice by Ye Chen's thunderbolts left him flustered; his flying sword was still over three zhang away on the ice, so he could only thrust out his hand, desperately releasing spiritual energy to try the remote object-grabbing technique to snatch the sword back.

Ye Chen hadn't expected him to dodge the second lightning bolt; his thoughts shifted, and instantly another thunderbolt came crashing down.

This time, Ye Chen was smarter—he didn't strike directly at Wu Bolin, but at a point one zhang ahead of him.

Seeing thunder rumble again in the sky, Wu Bolin's nerves tightened; spiritual energy had already seized the flying sword, but to be safe, he exerted himself to retreat at full speed, all while trying to recall the sword into his hand.

He hadn't expected Ye Chen's lightning to miss entirely—it hadn't struck where he'd just been; seeing the lightning crack down, he thought: this brat either lacks aim, or he's trying to lead the target but didn't expect me to retreat instead of advance.

At that moment, the flying sword was speeding toward him, and it happened to pass exactly through the spot where the lightning had struck.

Wu Bolin didn't realize the danger—he just felt the lightning couldn't possibly hit him, so he relaxed.

But he never imagined that as the flying sword sped back, the lightning instantly got drawn to it, and at the very moment before impact, the lightning bent mid-air, directly pulling a terrifying blue-white electric arc onto the sword!

Wu Bolin was practically illiterate, raised in a feudal society—he knew nothing of physics; he didn't realize his flying sword was his mother's metal, and metal conducts electricity!

Worse still, lightning is ultra-high voltage, capable of releasing immense charge, and the flying sword itself was forged from metal, with Wu Bolin gripping the hilt while the blade tip just passed through the lightning's edge.

Lightning rods are pointed precisely because the tip effect concentrates the electric field strongest at the tip, easily drawing lightning from the air—and Wu Bolin's flying sword, at that moment, had become a moving lightning rod, and worse, one rushing straight toward him!

The instant Wu Bolin sensed the flying sword drawing the electric arc, his mind went blank—he didn't grasp what was happening, why the lightning hadn't struck the ground but had instead been intercepted by his own sword.

But the flying sword gave him no time to think—it shot into his hand instantly, then immediately drew the lightning toward itself.

Crack!

A tremendous explosion once again sent Wu Bolin flying backward.

His already ragged clothes were now mostly reduced to carbon powder, only half a pair of underpants barely preserving modesty.

Wu Bolin gasped in disbelief: "How... how could this be?!"

Ye Chen laughed loudly: "Stupid dog! Your flying sword conducts electricity—you don't even know this basic fact and dare to show your face?"

Wu Bolin was near madness, his grip on the sword trembling uncontrollably, his whole body reeking of burnt flesh, the little spiritual energy left in him desperately repairing his skin—since taking up cultivation, he'd never been in such a sorry state.

He fixed Ye Chen with a gaze full of killing intent, this time saying nothing, directly gathering vast spiritual energy into his sword and hurling it straight at Ye Chen.

The flying sword seemed to carry the force to shatter ten thousand armies, howling as it shot toward Ye Chen.

Seeing such speed for the first time, Ye Chen had originally wanted to press the advantage with a few more thunderbolts—even if he couldn't kill Wu Bolin, he'd at least strip off a layer of skin—but seeing the sword's immense momentum, he knew his body couldn't withstand it, so he instantly exerted himself to dodge right.

What Ye Chen hadn't expected was that his body now felt as if under some spell, like stuck in mud, moving far slower and with far greater effort than usual.

Only then did he realize: the flying sword seemed to carry a kind of pressure—not only was it immensely powerful and unstoppable, but it could also emit pressure to increase resistance to the target's movement!

Originally he thought he could dodge, but he hadn't expected his movements to be hindered and slowed; even with all his strength, he could no longer evade.

At that moment he realized: the overwhelming superiority brought by high cultivation was nearly all-encompassing—even an ordinary flying sword attack could produce such an effect; with just my thunderbolts, how could I be his match?

Knowing he couldn't escape, Ye Chen instantly gathered all his spiritual energy before him, condensing it into an extremely dense invisible spiritual wall, intending to brute-force block this strike with pure spiritual energy.

The invisible, intangible spiritual energy instantly met the lightning-fast flying sword—spiritual energy like an ultra-dense atmosphere, the sword like a meteor tearing through space; though Ye Chen's cultivation lagged behind Wu Bolin's, his spiritual energy was abundant—this was an all-out effort, using spiritual energy to desperately squeeze and rub against Wu Bolin's sword.

The spiritual energy Wu Bolin had poured into his sword, meeting the vast spiritual energy Ye Chen released, all turned into friction and heat in the air; immense spiritual energy consumed each other in midair, the sword's speed visibly dropping rapidly, as if straining to force a path through, the enormous friction even heating the air until it scorched, the sword gradually turning red-hot!

Next, the sword's speed nearly stalled—like a heated tungsten filament, it burst forth with scorching bright light, melting the ice below into a small puddle.

After a moment, the sword gradually faded, truly spent.

Wu Bolin watched in alarm, he waved his hand to recall the sword, then stared at Ye Chen coldly: "Not bad, brat—you actually burned this much spiritual energy to block my sword; at your consumption rate, I'd say you can take at most two of my strikes—you've already taken one, take another and I'll be sure to chop off your dog head!"

Ye Chen smirked derisively: "Your spiritual energy must be nearly exhausted too, old dog?"

Wu Bolin said disdainfully: "So what? At least enough to cut you down!"

Ye Chen laughed loudly: "Not necessarily!"

Having said that, he instantly grabbed a large Peiyuan Dan and stuffed it into his mouth; the powerful pill immediately replenished all the spiritual energy he'd just lost.

Wu Bolin stared, mouth agape!

His cultivation was higher than Ye Chen's, so he could easily see through Ye Chen's spiritual energy state.

And he had personally witnessed Ye Chen replenish his spiritual energy fully with just one pill.

He was shocked, blurting out: "What pill are you using?! Even the minor Peiyuan Dan given by the Ying Lord is far inferior to yours in effect!"

Ye Chen sneered: "Minor Peiyuan Dan? More like someone took one Peiyuan Dan, cut it into ten pieces, mixed it with piss and mud, and rolled them into ten fake pills!"

Wu Bolin, imagining that scene, found it so eyesore he dared not think further, and frowned, rebuking: "Even at death's door your mouth is still this cheap! Answer what I ask, old man—if I'm in a good mood, I might even leave you a whole corpse!"

Ye Chen mocked: "Old dog, you may not be able to kill me today, because I'm taking the Great Peiyuan Dan—far stronger than ordinary Peiyuan Dan, and even stronger than the minor kind! Though my cultivation doesn't match yours, I, damn it, am richer than you! Dragged out to the end, it may not be me who loses!"