Chapter Ninety-Nine: Youthful Years

Xiao Xue felt a sharp, predatory current of killing intent spreading over her whole body, making her deeply uneasy. When she bent her head slightly, she saw that somehow a dark ribbon of spiritual energy had appeared on her neck, like a ghostly black hand.

Xiao Xue suddenly realized she had only been lulled off guard. The nonsense Rong'an Guihai had spoken before was nothing more than a ploy to waste time and numb her before delivering a sudden, sinister technique.

“You are so despicable.” Xiao Xue said coldly.

“Despicable? Ha—better despicable than dead,” Rong'an Guihai sneered. “Do you take me and my old master for fools? The Yi Hua Sect sends only a few young disciples to Guihai City to answer our challenge. If you do that, you must possess some absurd, unreachable art. To insist on a face-to-face duel, one by one—how laughable. Why shouldn’t Guihai City, with our advantage, surround you all at once?”

“You’re not afraid they would swarm and overwhelm us? Then it wouldn’t be just these few of us from the Yi Hua Sect.” Xiao Xue answered.

Xiao Xue smiled faintly. “Miss Xiao Xue, you do not seem to understand Guihai City very well. We may not have the power to crush the Yi Hua Sect outright, but the Yi Hua Sect can never break into Guihai City. The Myriad Spears Formation—you’ve heard of it, no? Even if all five Great Spirit Sects came, my people of Guihai would not so much as flinch. And now,” Rong'an Guihai declared proudly, “the host of that formation is none other than your Guihai Rong’an.”

“Perhaps the Myriad Spears Formation is indeed as dreadful as you claim,” Xiao Xue said. “But you may never have another chance to admire it.”

Rong'an Guihai seemed to think nothing was funnier. No one had ever escaped his Phantom Hand—not even when it had locked a throat, tightening like iron. “Miss Xiao Xue, though you are as beautiful as a celestial beauty, I have no time to behold you. I will kill you first, then I will see what tricks your Yi Hua Sect still has up its sleeve. I do not care why you aid Mo Bai in rescuing him. It no longer matters. Mo Bai is destined to be used by me. In this fight, victory belongs to my house, no—belongs to Rong'an Guihai.” he roared.

“Some things,” Xiao Xue said suddenly, “cannot be understood by someone who knows only crude, forceful scheming.” A veil of mist rose from her body.

Rong'an Guihai felt a sudden chill. Without wasting a word, he formed a seal with one hand. His Phantom Hand began to coil around Xiao Xue’s throat, tightening and tightening, as if it could snap it in an instant. He could not hide his pride. As long as that hand clamped another’s neck, no matter how much spirit energy the enemy possessed, nothing could escape it. But the opponent before him was the foremost disciple of the Yi Hua Sect, a singular talent from the Spirit Realm itself.

Astonished, Rong'an Guihai could not believe it, but Xiao Xue’s own frigid aura seemed to harden into ice, freezing his Phantom Hand to the point of shattering. How was that possible?

In the next instant, Xiao Xue moved only one finger. A colossal sword of ice flew at him like the bitter wind of midwinter. “Not good!” Rong'an shouted, flailing with both hands. With a heavy crack, the immense ice blade struck the ground where he had been standing and tore out a vast crater. Apart from a few drops of fresh blood on the earth, there was no body of Rong'an Guihai. Xiao Xue frowned. He had mastered a truly refined means of escape, but there was no time to dwell on it. She rushed through the door—and was stunned to find the inner chamber utterly empty.

Honglin Woman gave her thirteen-joint Death-Chain Spear a slight shake, then watched Guihai Yidao with amused eyes. Ten years ago no one would have called her beautiful; today she carried the fragrance of a mature woman—a kind of magnetism that a man like Guihai Yidao could not bear.

Guihai Yidao felt as if she was not merely smiling at him, but trying to melt him with that gaze. He almost could not bring himself to move. Yet at that moment, the strange slender blade in his hand jerked outward of its own accord—a warning of danger. He snapped back to awareness. Looking up, he saw a red shadow already above him. She flicked her wrist, and a dazzling red beam of spiritual energy shot toward him. Unlike ordinary sword-work, the energy drawn from Honglin Woman’s Chain Spear formed no fixed shape, yet its momentum was overwhelming.

Guihai Yidao steadied himself. With one movement, the blade called the Shadowing Phantom came free from its scabbard, and with a metallic hiss he swept a streak of cold moonlit steel toward the chain spear.

Honglin Woman had seemed to have the upper hand. She had not expected the force of his blade-wind to be so fierce. A wave of killing intent struck at her. She shifted once in midair, and in the same instant quietly manifested a blooming orange Ihua. Even from that single, cleanly executed motion, she did not fail to deserve the title of Senior Sister of the Yi Hua Sect; she was not in the same league as Yu Fu Gao.

At the appearance of the Ihua, Honglin Woman’s spiritual power surged. The thirteen links of her Death-Chain Spear whipped about like raging wind and fire, sending repeated waves of energy crashing against Guihai Yidao’s sword-light. The whole Spirit Tournament ring shook and swayed under their colliding auras. Unlike the measured, veteran exchanges of Master Yunfa and Master Jindeng Bumi with Jintian Zuo, these two were all youthful ferocity from the start—sharp, brutal, and thrilling, sending the many cultivators watching below into a fever.

On this side, Master Yunfa had also been invited by Jiutong and Jiuling to the viewing platform. Yet no one dared ask how he had come. His face remained as coldly resolute as iron. Juxi’s expression held a touch of embarrassment, but in that moment he felt a stream of spiritual energy drifting slowly toward him. He gave a faint smile and said, “See that the Third Senior Uncle is looked after. I have a few matters to attend to.”

Though Juxi did not carry the stern face of Master Yunfa, everyone knew this fellow-senior was a man who never broke his word. None asked him why he was leaving. They simply nodded and watched him descend from the platform. Master Yunfa kept his expression flat and unmoving, his gaze fixed on the arena while he secretly replenished his spiritual reserves in silence; his task had not yet been completed.