Chapter 113: The Unquenchable Will to Fight

“There hasn’t been a master like you in Torrent City for a long time,” Jerandon said, forming a hand seal with one hand. Two columns of water surged skyward on either side, and as he took a step forward, another water pillar burst from the earth behind Ye Ran.

The already damp swamp became even muddier as the water flowed downward at an angle. Quietly, Ye Ran cultivated his internal energy to prevent himself from sinking.

“This move was originally created for Golden Lion; today, I’ll make an exception for you,” Jerandon said. Among the three heroes of Frostfall City, Silver Armor Golden Lion was Jerandon’s sworn enemy.

Faced with this earth-shaping technique, Ye Ran dared not take it lightly. He pressed his feet firmly, advancing slowly.

*“Ping!”*

Two serpentine streams of water struck head-on. Ye Ran tried to evade, but the water beneath his feet seemed to freeze, holding him fast.

With no choice, he met force with force, shattering the two serpentine water columns with sheer strength.

About three meters away, Dilys blinked suspiciously. Jerandon’s water domain covered only ten meters in diameter; Ye Ran’s speed should have allowed him to escape the range from the start.

*“Splash!”*

Just as Ye Ran was preparing himself, Jerandon suddenly stood still. Two fingers pressed against his sword’s edge, and internal energy surged swiftly along the blade into the surrounding water. Jerandon became motionless, like a stone statue—a hollow shell.

“Hmm?” At that moment, Ye Ran sensed a deadly threat. The entire water domain shifted its aura in an instant.

With a splash, a stream of water took human form abruptly. Though nearly transparent, it was unmistakably Jerandon’s likeness.

The water-formed Jerandon planted his feet diagonally and pointed his sword straight at Ye Ran, flashing forward along the water’s flow.

Ye Ran furrowed his brow; this was the first time he had encountered such a technique, uncertain if it was magic or martial art.

His feet frozen on the water’s surface, Ye Ran gave up moving, pressing downward with force. One-third of his body sank as he struck the translucent figure with his fists and palms.

With a thunderous explosion, the transparent form shattered under his blow, and the powerful impact caused Ye Ran’s body to sway.

Glancing at the stone-like Jerandon, beads of sweat dotted his forehead. Ye Ran silently assessed him and gathered his energy.

Sure enough, before Ye Ran could fully charge, a second water-formed figure rose, followed by a third, a fourth...

Within moments, no fewer than ten identical figures appeared in the water.

The transparent figures intertwined as Ye Ran ceased attacking and no longer met force with force. He shifted entirely to defense, clasping his hands to shield his head and upper body, allowing the translucent forms to explode before and behind him.

*“Ping!”*
*“Ping!”*
*“Boom!”*

The sound of explosions continued for a full fifteen minutes. Eleven water-formed figures detonated in succession; the last vanished before it could explode.

Outside the water domain, Jerandon coughed weakly, as if returned from the depths of hell. His face was pale, and his forehead glistened with sweat.

The water domain silently retracted into the swamp.

Ye Ran lifted his feet from the mud and said, “Your origin and energy are completely drained.”

His arms hung low, residual water dripping from his fingers.

From the moment the water domain appeared, Ye Ran had sensed the immense toll this magic took on Jerandon’s internal energy. Especially after Jerandon began using the water-formed technique, his energy could not sustain for long. Thus, Ye Ran decisively switched to hand gestures.

Jerandon’s chest heaved as he looked at Ye Ran gloomily, “Damn, do you never run out of strength?”

“That’s probably the advantage of physical arts—high stamina consumption but low energy consumption,” Ye Ran replied.

“I’m also very fit. Your magic can hardly hurt me,” he added, waving his hand and delivering a crushing blow to Jerandon’s hopes.

He could swear he had never felt this powerless, not even when facing Silver Armor Golden Lion.

“Hmph, winning is winning. Stop with the sarcastic remarks,” Jerandon muttered, sheathing his sword.

Ye Ran said, “Although I don’t understand magic deeply, your water-formed move seems misguided. If you had used pure internal energy to damage my body instead of kinetic force, I might have been severely injured even if I didn’t lose.”

“Oh dear, being defeated and then criticized—how could the proud Jerandon of Frostfall City accept that?” Dilys deliberately crunched her fries loudly, her tone full of mockery.

“Hmph, what’s there to not accept? Stop stirring trouble, you schemer,” Jerandon snapped, summoning a giant troll and leaping onto its shoulder.

Dilys pouted, “Where am I scheming? Don’t you think so, Ye Ran?”

Ye Ran ignored him, putting the ring into his pocket and looking southward. The Blood Clan’s secret treasure lay closest in that direction, and faintly, he sensed the battle there had reached a fever pitch.

He didn’t linger, leaping southward.

“Hey, Ye Ran, where are you going...” Dilys called out loudly, but Ye Ran quickly disappeared into the distance.

The path south through the Valley of Shadows led to Torrent City. There, a bloodstone monument connected to a forest. Three hours ago, when the blood-red light erupted, a large group of warriors had come this way. After a fierce battle, the already gloomy forest was now heavy with the scent of blood.

This fight was far more brutal than the one eastward. Bodies of dwarves and humans littered the ground. Most fallen humans wore animal hides, their bodies rough and muscular; steel forks and bows lay discarded nearby.

Their weapons were crude, starkly different from the Elves’ exquisite longbows and quivers. The steel forks, wooden bows, and stone blades all bore the marks of rough crafting.

As Ye Ran arrived, he heard distant roosters crowing, yet the forest remained dim, the mist thicker than in the east.

Amid the thick fog came the sound of rushing wind and clashing blades, and a staggering figure emerged.

Alert, Ye Ran picked up a longbow and a steel fork from the ground.

*“Puff, puff.”*

The figure clutched his chest, staggering forward. Several wooden arrows shot toward him. He cursed, rolled aside to avoid the arrows, just as a massive log came crashing from the right. Only by flattening himself to the ground did he narrowly avoid being smashed.

A trap?

Ye Ran frowned, stepping forward quickly, but as soon as he moved, he felt the earth beneath him shift. Without hesitation, he flipped backward midair.

*“Snap!”*

A rusty bear trap clamped shut where he had just stepped. Cold sweat ran down Ye Ran’s back—if he had been caught by such a device, today might have been his last.

*“Whoosh, whoosh.”*

More rushing sounds came from ahead. Wooden arrows, massive logs, and rolling stones all converged on the figure, threatening to kill him at every turn.

Ye Ran snorted coldly, leapt onto a tree trunk, using it to spring himself into the fog. He landed above the man, grabbed his collar with one hand, caught the incoming log, and used its momentum to swing back.

“You’re alright... Qian Long?”