Chapter 318: Wind-Riding Boots

Having chased for the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, Song Qingming and the Foundation Establishment cultivator fleeing in front were traveling rapidly through the air, one after the other. Although the distance between them was slowly widening, Song Qingming had not yet completely lost track of the opponent and could barely keep up with his pace.

This person's cultivation was not high, only at the fourth level of Foundation Establishment. The reason he could surpass Song Qingming, who had a higher cultivation, in escape speed was because of the pair of black boots he wore, which accelerated his sword-flying speed. These boots were constantly emitting a cluster of spiritual light in the air, and one look told you they were a high-quality spirit item.

Seeing the distance between the opponent and himself widening, Song Qingming gradually lost hope in his heart, estimating that if he followed for a while longer, he would have to return empty-handed.

It was normal for cultivators chosen to execute such dangerous missions deep behind enemy lines to have their own unique means of escape. Song Qingming actually didn't hold much hope of catching up to the opponent; as long as he did his best and didn't give anyone a chance to exploit him, that was enough. The battle had already reached this point, and whether he could earn merit was not something to be forced. For him, the best result was not to be dragged into the Golden Core cultivators' battle and lose his life in vain.

The black-clad cultivator running in front, watching Song Qingming closely following him, was actually very nervous. Although the Wind-Riding Boots under his feet were a very useful auxiliary magic tool that could greatly increase a cultivator's escape speed, they had a major drawback: they consumed the user's magic power very rapidly.

Having run for so long, over half of the magic power in his body had already been consumed. Although he had taken an elixir to temporarily restore some, as long as Song Qingming behind him kept biting at his heels without giving him a chance to catch his breath, he could only hold on for at most another half a stick of incense.

Just as Song Qingming felt somewhat desperate and intended to turn back, he suddenly sensed that the escape speed of the black-clad cultivator in front seemed to have begun to slow down.

This discovery, made by chance, suddenly gave Song Qingming a reason to continue the pursuit. To avoid losing track of the person, Song Qingming gritted his teeth, took out a drop of Millennium Spirit Milk he had on him, consumed it, and then increased the injection of magic power into the flying sword beneath his feet.

The black-clad cultivator running in front, seeing that Song Qingming behind him still had the energy to maintain his escape speed, couldn't help but become flustered.

Seeing that they had already run over a hundred miles, and the opponent's pursuit speed showed no signs of weakening, the black-clad cultivator's expression gradually darkened.

It seemed that wanting to rely on the Wind-Riding Boots to escape here today was unrealistic. Since he couldn't escape directly, he had no choice but to stop and fight to the death.

Thinking of this, the black-clad cultivator, now at his wit's end, turned his flying sword and descended toward a forest to the side.

Before long, Song Qingming, who had also landed on the ground, carefully scanned his surroundings, suddenly focused his gaze on a large gray tree not far ahead, and slowly walked toward it.

After approaching the large tree, Song Qingming first took out his Fire-Pattern Sword and covered himself with a thin layer of Profound Light Armor.

Prepared, Song Qingming used a Light Body Technique to bypass the large tree from the side and charged directly behind it. Upon nearing his target, three fire arrows formed above the Fire-Pattern Sword and shot toward the opponent, piercing a figure behind the tree and pinning it to the trunk.

Finding that the attack had succeeded so easily, Song Qingming felt a bit strange. Looking closely at the target he had hit, he realized that what he had killed was not the target he imagined, but a humanoid substitute puppet dressed in black.

A humanoid substitute puppet is a type of puppet beast. The difference between this thing and other puppet beasts is that, besides being able to mimic and use a portion of the controller's practiced spells in battle, it can also mimic the aura of the controller at critical moments, serving as a decoy to help the cultivator lure away pursuers.

Although this type of substitute puppet beast has less combat power than some other puppet beasts, its role in battle is sometimes much more useful than ordinary puppet beasts, and such spirit items are also rarely seen on the market.

The substitute puppet before him had been motionless, seemingly somewhat damaged, but it was a high-quality second-tier substitute puppet beast. Coupled with the fact that it carried a lot of the black-clad cultivator's aura, this was what led Song Qingming to mistakenly believe just now that the guy was hiding there.

By the time Song Qingming reacted and wanted to quickly bypass this puppet to investigate other places, a white light suddenly lit up beneath the substitute puppet. Immediately following, the ground began to tremble, and Song Qingming was quickly surrounded by a pile of soil that gathered rapidly.

Seeing that the trap he had just made had successfully controlled Song Qingming, the black-clad cultivator walked over from another large tree a dozen zhang away with a wicked grin.

"Hmph! No matter how careful and cautious you are, in the end, you still fell for the trap I set for you."

The black-clad cultivator arrived in front of Song Qingming, who was already wrapped into a ball, and mocked him a few times. To set up this trap well, he had not only taken out the substitute puppet he had on him as a decoy but also used his only second-tier spirit talisman, paying a sufficient price.

Carefully examining the soil mound that had been wrapped up, and seeing no flaws, the black-clad cultivator directly took out a flying sword and cast a spell, thrusting it into the mound with all his might. The tip of the sword stopped abruptly just after sinking into the mound.

The black-clad cultivator frowned and looked, discovering that the sharp flying sword in his hand could not penetrate at all, as if it were being blocked by something inside.

"Could it be that Song Qingming, trapped inside, hasn't been completely restrained by this spirit talisman and is still using defensive means inside? But what exactly is it that allows him to block such a forceful strike from me at such close range?"

Although he could not quite figure it out, the black-clad cultivator still did not give up on the idea of killing Song Qingming; he increased his magic power to control the flying sword, changing angles several more times to thrust into the mound of earth, but the result was the same—all of them were blocked.

After casting spells several times, the black-clad cultivator, whose magic power was nearly exhausted, gritted his teeth and took another elixir, wanting to restore his magic power before launching a more violent attack.

Just at this moment, the soil mound that had trapped Song Qingming suddenly flew into the high air, and then a loud bang occurred, shattering the spirit talisman that had been trapping him.

Song Qingming, falling from high altitude, put away the Clear Water Bell that had been rotating above his head and looked with disdain at the black-clad cultivator sitting to the side, who was still dumbfounded.

"Fellow Daoist, this time it should be my turn to attack!"