Chapter Sixty-Two: Emerging Victorious Among the Final Eight

Impossible! That was a mid-grade yellow-level talisman! Staring at Lin Xiaobao, who had suddenly appeared less than three feet before him, Geng Zhiyi simply could not accept the reality unfolding before his eyes. At that moment, he was fully controlling the Azure Dragon Sword and unable to evade Lin Xiaobao's attack. This was one of the flaws of operating the Thirteen Swords from a Distance with only Innate Ninth Stage strength. If this sword technique had been executed by a cultivator at the Spirit Path realm, even Lin Xiaobao's sudden assault would not have left him so helpless.

As the Azure Dragon Sword entered the area where Lin Xiaobao had previously stood within the Phantom Talisman formation, the Seven-Star Sword in Lin Xiaobao's hand was already pressed against Geng Zhiyi's neck.

With a clang, the Azure Dragon Sword, now devoid of Geng Zhiyi's control, dropped to the ground, and both their figures slowly descended from midair.

"I've lost!" Feeling the cold edge against his neck, Geng Zhiyi spoke with a voice full of unwillingness.

Seeing his opponent concede, Lin Xiaobao sheathed the Seven-Star Sword and left the arena. He was still drenched in cold sweat; had Geng Zhiyi used a killing talisman instead of the Phantom Talisman, the outcome might have been uncertain. It seemed he had overestimated himself.

Of course, that was only Lin Xiaobao's own thought. As he left the arena, the other disciples finally snapped out of their daze and cheered. After days of watching matches, only today's bout had been truly stirring. Although they did not understand how Lin Xiaobao had escaped, it did not diminish their admiration. In fact, because the means of his escape remained unknown, Lin Xiaobao appeared even more mysterious in their eyes, and they eagerly anticipated tomorrow's finals.

"Brother Xiaobao, are you alright?" As Lin Xiaobao approached, Wang Dashan immediately let go of Nie Feiyan's hand and looked at Lin Xiaobao's wounded left shoulder with concern.

Glancing at Nie Feiyan, Lin Xiaobao, wounded and weary, had no heart to jest with the pair. "I'm fine, I'll head back first!" With that, he strode toward the hall doors.

Unexpectedly, after only two steps, Wang Dashan caught up to him.

"Why aren't you with Nie Feiyan? What are you following me for?" Lin Xiaobao teased.

"I told her I'd keep her company tomorrow. You've been hurt today, so I'll stick with you!" Wang Dashan replied, a bit embarrassed.

Lin Xiaobao nodded. While there was little real danger now in the Wind and Snow Pavilion, since he was aiming for the position of Pavilion Master, it was not impossible that someone might try to harm him. He did not refuse Wang Dashan's company, and together they headed straight for Pine Extension Peak.

Upon returning, Lin Xiaobao gave Wang Dashan a few instructions before retreating to his room. The low-grade spirit stones, under the array’s effect, had begun to soften and would surely melt completely within three hours.

Tearing open the fabric at his left shoulder, Lin Xiaobao took a jade bottle from his storage bracelet, shook out some white powder, and sprinkled it over the wound. Instantly, the pain vanished, replaced by a tingling itch.

With his temperament, Lin Xiaobao always kept a variety of healing medicines at hand during his study of alchemy. Though he could not yet refine true pills, his stockpile of medicinal powders was astonishing; even antidotes for dozens of poisons were stored in his bracelet. He would not claim to cure every poison under heaven, but he could instantly neutralize any he knew. Since these medicines were made for his own use, Lin Xiaobao was careful about their effects; for instance, the powder he applied now, still unnamed, brought a comforting sensation as soon as it touched his wound.

After tending to himself, Lin Xiaobao began training his Mindwave Technique. Although escaping the Phantom Trap formation at the last moment had seemed simple, it had drained his mental strength greatly. With another battle against Long Xing Tian, a first-stage Spirit Path cultivator, looming tomorrow, Lin Xiaobao dared not waste a single minute.

If he failed tomorrow, the two years of hard work would be for nothing. Lin Xiaobao would not permit himself to fail at this juncture.

He practiced the Mindwave Technique twice, feeling his mental strength fill to the brim. When he opened his eyes, dusk had fallen, and the low-grade spirit stone in the array had melted into a pool of emerald liquid at its center.

Stretching out his left hand, Lin Xiaobao found the wound completely healed, new muscle grown over it. Feeling no discomfort, he carefully took out the half piece of spirit beast hide and his wolf-hair brush.

He licked the tip of the brush—a habit not easily broken—and with a thought, suspended the beast hide in midair. Infusing it with spiritual energy, the brush tip became as sharp as a blade. With a deft stroke, he dipped it into the liquid spirit stone, took a deep breath, and touched the tip to the beast hide.

His gaze followed the brush, moving point by point. Lin Xiaobao focused all his mental strength on the brush and hide, his entire being absorbed, entirely divorced from his usual care-free demeanor.

Engraving a talisman is not a simple matter of copying from a diagram. Knowing the runes is not enough. Each stroke—light or heavy, bold or delicate—matters greatly.

Every detail is vital, and must be executed according to one's own understanding of arrays. Thus, even if ten disciples taught by the same master were to inscribe the same talisman, no two would be exactly alike.

The differences are subtle with low-level talismans, but grow increasingly pronounced as the grade rises.

During nearly two years of cultivation, Lin Xiaobao had devoted most of the last six months to array studies. Now, he had his own unique insights into the Beast Soul Talisman he was about to carve.

Time passed slowly, sweat beads gathering on his brow. The Beast Soul Talisman was a high-grade yellow-level talisman, and for someone at the ninth stage of the Innate Martial realm like Lin Xiaobao, it was extremely taxing. Both his mental and spiritual strength poured out as if in a torrent. If not for his unusually robust mind, or the Spirit Gathering Array constantly replenishing his energy, Lin Xiaobao would never dare attempt such a high-level talisman at this stage.

Suddenly, with a bang—the wolf-hair brush and beast hide exploded together.

Staring at the trembling half brush in his right hand, Lin Xiaobao frowned deeply. Where had he gone wrong?

He had paid meticulous attention to every detail from the very start. Carefully reviewing the process in his mind, he still could not find the cause of his failure.