Chapter Twenty-Eight: Mutual Destruction

A familiar sensation surged up once again, and by now, the pain could no longer delay Chen Qi’s reactions.

Gazing at the shadow’s longsword, wreathed in a sinister aura and poised to strike down, Chen Qi had no choice but to roll away in desperate evasion.

As if dissatisfied with the speed of his roll, Chen Qi slammed his left hand against the ground, using the force to propel himself faster.

From the sidelines, Elder Chi watched this scene intently. He knew that if his shadow struck Chen Qi, it could be fatal; he was ready to intervene at any moment.

The longsword smashed into the earth right beside Chen Qi’s head, sending pebbles flying as its blade buried itself deep into the stony ground, leaving only a small portion exposed.

Shards of stone, flung at high speed, grazed Chen Qi’s face, carving several bloody lines across his skin.

Yet Chen Qi barely noticed; he felt only the luck of having barely survived.

He stared fixedly at the shadow, unwilling to believe that a mere menial disciple could unleash such power.

But once again, the shadow confounded his expectations.

This time, the shadow yanked the blade from the ground with fierce force, gripping it with both hands and gathering its strength.

Wreathed in darkness, it looked like a fiend from the underworld.

As the duration of his skill ended, Chen Qi felt a wave of weakness crash over him, and the pain his hyperactive nerves had suppressed returned with a vengeance.

Staring at the shadow, he felt an overwhelming pressure, as if standing before a volcano on the verge of eruption—disaster could strike at any moment.

“One more blow—if I can just dodge one more! Surely the shadow can’t use this Crimson Cloud Slash so many times without a price…”

As he tried to numb and hypnotize himself against the pain, Chen Qi calculated how to evade this next, fully-charged strike.

His eyes flicked to his active skill, Focused Burst, now cooling down, and he steeled himself.

The shadow’s aura began to churn violently, resonating in a strange, rhythmic cadence.

Suddenly, it moved.

Dragging its sword along the ground, it carved a deep fissure, the shadowy energy around the blade roiling in agitation.

“It’s coming!” Chen Qi murmured, forcibly triggering Focused Burst once more.

He trusted that if he failed to dodge, Elder Chi would ensure his safety.

Besides, Chen Qi believed that in this state, there was no skill he could not evade.

The shadow’s sword swept up in a perfect arc, its arm rising, and from the blade’s edge erupted a wolf’s head formed entirely of shadow, lunging straight for Chen Qi!

“A sword aura unleashed?”

Chen Qi stared at the wolf-shaped darkness that leapt from the blade, and in that instant, his overcharged nerves made a split-second decision.

He dove flat to the ground, pressing himself tightly against the stone surface, the force of his blood and qi so intense that he sank slightly into the ground.

In his elemental vision, Chen Qi had seen that the shadow’s attack hovered just above the surface—this was why he dared to press himself so low.

From the sidelines, Elder Chi’s eyes were glued to the scene; in a flash, he realized Chen Qi would be unharmed. He hadn’t expected the fatal blind spot in his shadow’s attack could be so easily perceived.

Chen Qi felt the hairs at the back of his head quiver, his pores prickling with dread as the shadow wolf swept overhead. He forced himself to remain pressed to the ground, enduring the discomfort, waiting for the attack to pass.

He couldn’t tell how long he waited, the intense pressure warping his sense of time, until he saw the shadow begin to tremble.

“Not good, is it coming again?”

The backlash from forcing his skill before the cooldown had ended now hit him—his nerves burned with pain, his muscles spasmed in exhaustion.

Two kinds of agony intertwined within him. He tried to rise, but only managed to sit up after a few shaky spasms.

His features twisted uncontrollably, fingers on his sword hand twitching as if dancing upon the hilt, an almost comical sight.

“Elder Chi, quick, help—”

His cry was cut short as he saw the shadow quivering, but its dark aura had vanished.

Then, to Chen Qi’s delight, the shadow convulsed, almost toppling, and finally had to use its sword as a crutch just to remain standing.

Chen Qi muttered to himself,

“I’ll have my revenge.”

He forced himself to his feet, suppressing the turmoil within his body.

The shadow watched, wanting to intervene.

It tried to step forward, but almost collapsed, its sword trembling violently, bending under the strain.

Seeing this, Chen Qi smiled faintly and moved toward the shadow.

He’d barely taken half a step before he collapsed to the ground!

“Damn it!”

The pain of hitting the ground actually alleviated some of the numb swelling in his body, and he felt he could somewhat regain control of his reflexes.

Like an old man turning over, Chen Qi finally managed to sit up again.

Standing proved too difficult, so he tossed aside his sword and, sitting down, scooted himself toward the shadow—this way, he only had to control the muscles in his hips.

Cursing the wretched aftereffects of his skill and grumbling about the roughness of the stone floor, Chen Qi managed to inch within a foot of the shadow.

He believed that although the shadow still stood with its sword, it was spent—otherwise, its temperament would have driven it to attack again and again.

Indeed, the shadow glared at Chen Qi with hatred, but made no further move. Its trembling body spoke volumes—its will was strong, but its strength was spent.

Chen Qi crawled to the shadow’s feet, raised his longsword with trembling hands, and swung at its waist.

But the shadow dropped its blade first, hurling itself at Chen Qi in a desperate last counter.

Chen Qi’s swing missed, and as he sat cross-legged, the shadow crashed into him.

The impact sent Chen Qi flying, a wave of pain crashing over him.

It was the final straw—the last straw that broke the camel’s back. Chen Qi tried to rise, but found his limbs refused to obey him.

Fortunately, the shadow, also sprawled on the ground, was equally convulsed, able to move only its head.

And so, the scene froze with man and shadow lying not far apart, both turning their heads to glare at each other, neither able to utter a word.

At last, Elder Chi allowed himself a smile. Though his shadow had not won, in a way, it had taught Chen Qi a harsh lesson.

“Perhaps this kind of stalemate is just the right blow for that brat,” Elder Chi mused, smiling as he spoke aloud,

“Boy, you’ve lost your fighting ability. Shall we call this match your defeat?”

Naturally, Chen Qi was unwilling—after all, this concerned the reward for a hidden quest.

Desperately buying time, he racked his brain for a way to snatch victory.

Elder Chi’s smile faded. He scolded,

“Brat, do you want to be left with permanent injuries? If you ruin your body at this age, you’ll pay the price later!”

As he spoke, he cast a complex look at his own shadow. He himself had been even more reckless than Chen Qi in his youth, and now, at a bottleneck, his old injuries barred his progress.

Suddenly, inspiration struck Chen Qi. Excited, he cried out,

“Elder Chi, please grant me two hundred more breaths—if I can’t win by then, I’ll admit defeat!”