Chapter Fifty: Confrontation

The surface of the lake rippled ceaselessly, as if echoing the battle raging above. When Chen Qi was struck and plunged into the water, Sun Ruohai, who stood nearby, finally snapped to attention. A ferocity, never before seen, flickered across his handsome face; one eyebrow arched sharply, the veins on his neck stood out, and he roared, “Attack!”

With his shout, his longsword became enveloped in a heavy crimson aura, swinging toward the ferocious pangolin beast with a force both weighty and nimble. The disciples sporting claws and the one surnamed Ao responded, albeit a beat slower, but the surge of their blood energy signaled that they were giving their all.

Faced with three simultaneous attacks, the pangolin beast seemed unwilling to meet them head-on—it finally moved. In a flash of violet, like a bolt of lightning, it appeared before Sun Ruohai’s sword. Without any extraneous motion, its claws slapped the ends of the blade, pinning it in place. The blood energy on the sword was dispersed, and a dense surge of violet-yellow force reverberated along the weapon’s length, pushing back toward its wielder.

Sun Ruohai, whether wounded or simply stunned by such technique, lost his grip on the sword and staggered backward. The attacks from the two outer disciples struck only an afterimage, arriving too late.

Suddenly, the pangolin’s form appeared above Sun Ruohai, its claws trailing shadows as they crashed down toward his head. With his sword lost and the initiative slipping away, Sun Ruohai saw the shadow descending and thought, “This is bad.” Yet, years of martial training lent him a shard of clarity. He raised his fists to shield his face, invoking the secret skill he had honed since childhood: “Azure Cloud Hands.”

Though limited by his current cultivation, unable to manifest the legendary blue aura, his hands still bristled with dense blood energy—an instinctive defense, executed perfectly in that critical moment.

The beast’s sharp claws collided with his palms, strangely lacking any force. As Sun Ruohai toppled backward into the lake, his mind sank; there was no time to change tactics. He could only watch as those claws split apart, coming at him with a move called “Twin Peaks Strike,” accelerating toward his ears.

At such close range, Sun Ruohai finally saw the pangolin beast’s eyes: cunning gleamed there, marking it as something far removed from ordinary monsters. As the wind of the claws rushed toward his ears, his mind went blank. Countless memories flickered past, ephemeral as drifting shadows.

In that haze, he glimpsed a familiar figure to his left. Instinctively, he whipped his head left, dodging the claw meant for his right ear. A longsword, so steeped in blood energy it seemed ready to overflow, swept across, barely grazing Sun Ruohai’s right cheek and intercepting the claw at the last possible moment.

Chen Qi had arrived in the nick of time. Seeing his brother in peril, he abandoned his attack and sought a chance to rescue Sun Ruohai. The blade hovered above Sun Ruohai’s face: at one end was a powerful, clawed fist gripping the blade, sparks flying; at the other, Chen Qi’s hands, the veins bulging and blood energy spilling forth, showing he was pushing his strength to its limits.

They struggled against each other, but the advantage lay with the pangolin beast. It still had another claw—and in those few seconds of contest, Chen Qi felt that same familiar force surge through, clearly the passive skill: Shock Force.

Pain radiated through his hands, causing his whole body to tremble; he was nearly unable to hold the blade. The beast sneered, its other claw closing in, while Sun Ruohai remained pinned beneath the sword. In a burst of inspiration, Chen Qi unleashed his blood energy, channeling it from below into the blade.

With this fresh surge, the sword seemed to lighten dramatically. His wrists snapped with force, and the blade suddenly sprang free from the beast’s grip.

That supposedly immovable violet claw was stunned by this abrupt force, recoiling several inches. Seizing the moment, Chen Qi pivoted on his left leg and lashed out with his right, striking hard at the pangolin’s waist.

The blow carried the momentum of the blade’s rebound, amplified by blood energy wrapping his leg—a whip kick, perhaps the strongest Chen Qi had ever thrown.

The pangolin, still affected by the stiffness, looked sure to be struck. But then—“Swish.” A violet shadow struck ahead, like a whip, hitting Chen Qi’s toes. The beast had flicked its tail, covered in scales but oddly soft, as if he had kicked mud—his force dissipated, and a wave of nausea swept over him.

With a push of its tail, the pangolin glided away like a violet shadow, dodging the attacks of the two outer disciples once more, almost as if toying with fools.

Witnessing this, a thought flashed through Chen Qi’s mind: “It seems this pangolin doesn’t want to fight head-on. This might be our chance to survive.”

No time to dwell, he shouted, “This beast is reluctant to clash directly—let’s try to attack instead of defend!”

As he spoke, he charged the monster, his blade carving a crescent, aiming for its vulnerable belly.

The pangolin’s eyes flickered with a savage light, sensing the humans’ intent. It surged toward Chen Qi, sending water spraying several meters high.

Chen Qi’s pupils contracted; all he could see was a blurred violet shadow, like a sports car barreling down a highway. Every nerve screamed a warning.

Knowing his life hung by a thread, he activated his trump card—Focused Burst.

His vision’s colors shifted, his senses heightened. He could now see the patterns on the pangolin’s skin as he swung his blade—shadow upon shadow.

“Clang!” Blade and claw collided, like two blocks of fine steel magnetized toward each other. Chen Qi didn’t try to match strength. Instead, he relied on the nimble nerves in his hands, detonating the blood energy on the blade, separating instantly.

The explosion of blood energy released a torrent of force, disrupting the beast’s own blood aura and throwing it off balance.

Seeing the monster stunned again, Chen Qi rotated his body, channeling the recoil into the lake and gathering blood energy in his fist, striking the pangolin’s abdomen.

Within the skill’s duration, he executed the blade rebound once more, creating an opening.

His fist landed squarely, but felt as if it struck thick rubber, a dull thud sounding.

Chen Qi realized a harsh truth: his blood energy and force were being swallowed by an even deeper power. The punch did little damage, merely throwing the beast’s blood aura into chaos.

Not daring to linger, he used the last moments of his skill to retreat, spitting a foul-smelling blood arrow straight at the beast’s narrow eyes.

“Wretched creature, taste my vintage poison blood!”