Chapter 147

To keep the opposing spellcasters from launching a sneak attack from behind, Lin Xunzhen's water barrier hung steady and even, its surface rippling at the slightest disturbance.

A transparent lotus suddenly bloomed midair.

In an instant, the supple, life-filled water crystallized into solid petals of ice. Its rotation stalled for a heartbeat, then burst outward into a thousand shards.

Guan Qianqian assumed the fragments were aimed at her and hurriedly swept them away with a gust of wind. But what she hadn't expected was that amidst the gale, a nimble figure had already ridden the updraft skyward.

One foot pressed down on a petal for a slight boost, then stepped onto another.

Ruan Mingzhu couldn't see the wind, but she could "see" the flow of spiritual power.

She struggled to dodge every vortex, her blade tip aimed squarely at Guan Qianqian, paying no mind to how many cuts had opened across her arms.

But the wind was formless and ever-shifting—light and quick. It even granted those with a wind-affinity Spirit Root the ability to hover freely in the air.

A slender breeze curled around her, and in that moment, Guan Qianqian took flight.

High above, she was far lighter than Ruan Mingzhu, moving with effortless grace as she evaded each phoenix-shaped burst of flame, all the while keeping her distance.

The girl's eyes curved slightly, as if in mockery.

Ruan Mingzhu was growing tired. For her, fighting with her feet on the ground came far more naturally. Fortunately, Bai Su had been continuously healing the small wounds the wind had carved into her, which let her focus on the chase without worry.

Gu Ruoshui watched the sky, her sword still sheathed.

Any subtle move from the other two spellcasters was enough to put Qing Zhouxue on high alert.

The reason she hadn't gone to help Ruan Mingzhu was mainly because of those two—their intentions were still unclear.

One disciple wore white robes, the other black, standing side by side like the black-and-white impermanence come to claim souls.

The black-robed disciple raised his hands, palms together, and closed his eyes.

Just as he began to cast, a shard of ice shot toward his face. It was about to strike him square between the eyes when it halted dead in midair.

The white-robed disciple was controlling the ice shard, sending it back exactly as it had come. Qing Zhouxue deflected it with a single swing of her sword, the sound crisp and clean. The shard embedded itself deep into the arena floor.

He had an Ice Spirit Root too?

Qing Zhouxue froze in shock. Why had she never seen this man during her training in the Ice Cave?

A tear in the void was violently ripped open, and Qing Zhouxue suddenly heard shrill cries and roars—something unusual was happening.

The surrounding crowd widened their eyes, staring in disbelief at the center of the arena.

A plume of black smoke surged up from within, embers faintly visible.

But it wasn't the warm, comforting heat of a fire Spirit Root. It was a dark crimson glow that felt bone-chilling cold. In that instant, the Qingshuang Sword seemed to catch the scent of something sinister, trembling in Qing Zhouxue's hand.

One wisp, two wisps—then hundreds and thousands of remnant souls seeped out of the rift, as if dredged straight from the River of Forgetfulness. Their resentment was palpable, sweeping forth like a black wind.

Few could command such an art.

The black-robed disciple had a Shadow Spirit Root.

Shadow Spirit Roots also fell outside the Five Elements, often summoning vengeful spirits and borrowed ghost soldiers from the underworld.

Lin Xunzhen frowned. "Now I see why they insisted on hiding it. Junior Sister Qing, I suspect that white-robed disciple isn't the same as you. According to the records, the rare Void Spirit Root, seen once in a blue moon, seems to take on fire when greeted with fire, and ice when met with ice—like a mirror."

Hmph, flashy.

The wind was loud, making their voices from behind hard to distinguish.

Qing Zhouxue's heartbeat sounded exceptionally clear as she faced a malevolent spirit that had just risen to its feet.

The Qingshuang Sword, a blade meant to slay evil and uphold justice, was obligated to cut down vengeful souls.

She thrust her sword forward—the hallmark move of Thousand Peaks, Ten Thousand Paths.

A single sword intent slowly unfurled, carrying the chill of deep winter. At first, it was calm as water, but as it neared the ghosts, it sharpened abruptly.

It split into a thousand sword shadows.

The howls grew even more horrifying. The black-robed disciple's face turned pale as he watched, helpless, while everything he'd just summoned shattered into wisps of smoke. The backlash of his own spell hit him, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood, nearly collapsing.

Senior Sister Ji had been seated in the stands, but in a moment of excitement, she shot to her feet.

In the earlier matches, Qing Zhouxue had mostly relied on the Taichu Sect's rock-solid "Returning to One" sword technique—adapting to any situation with an unchanging core.

The more advanced techniques she'd developed herself, she had yet to truly unleash, saving them for the finals.

This sword style... Ji Linjiang's eyes grew slightly red. It carried the sharp, unyielding spirit of a sword immortal, tempered by this girl's own tranquil detachment.

But most disciples couldn't discern such nuance; they simply gasped and exclaimed at how incredible it was.

Guan Qianqian, dodging this way and that, had worked up a full sweat. She inwardly marveled, realizing she had underestimated the stamina of the woman before her—even at a disadvantage, she pursued her with relentless ferocity.

With Lin Xunzhen's deft coordination, Ruan Mingzhu fought high in the air, carried by the water currents. Though she was always half a step behind, she never seemed clumsy or heavy.

As the saying goes, momentum can overwhelm. Guan Qianqian was afraid of pain and didn't want to get hurt, but Ruan Mingzhu seemed to feel none at all. Even as the biting wind sliced her hands bloody, each swipe of her blade was clean and decisive, the flames at its tip leaping several zhang long.

Guan Qianqian slowly began to fear this reckless style of fighting.

This girl's cultivation seemed slightly lower than hers—early Nascent Soul stage, by all rights Ruan Mingzhu should have been the one to show a bit of restraint.

Lin Xunzhen kept one eye on Qing Zhouxue and the other on Ruan Mingzhu. At that moment, Qing Zhouxue was attempting to circle around Gu Ruoshui and strike at the two spellcasters, but each time, a few bolts of lightning drove her back.

Qing Zhouxue then retreated a step, biding her time.

Junior Sister Qing was level-headed; she would act with caution.

Lin Xunzhen felt she could trust her on that front, so she shifted her full attention to the sky.

Guan Qianqian was eager to end this fight. After shaking Ruan Mingzhu off once more, she steadied herself in the wind, raised her hands, and rapidly chanted an incantation, preparing to summon another tornado of blades to finish her opponent.

Ruan Mingzhu was struck by the wind, and the water current that had been holding her up dissipated for a moment before quickly reforming, but it still caused her to drop several feet.

She was too far from Guan Qianqian now, powerless to interrupt the casting.

But Ruan Mingzhu kept her eyes locked on that figure. She knew—once Guan Qianqian unleashed this technique, there would be nowhere to hide.

She had two options: fall quickly and seek shelter, or... gamble one more time.

If she gave up now, she'd never get another opening like this.

The sunlight above dazzled painfully. Lin Xunzhen squinted up at Ruan Mingzhu, who suddenly made a gesture toward her—a blurry silhouette waving.

She meant: go higher.

The unspoken understanding remained. Lin Xunzhen instinctively boosted her upward with a splash of water.

Ruan Mingzhu rode the momentum toward her, and Guan Qianqian's protective gale was forming a converging ring. Just as she caught the edge of a wind current, she finally grasped the hem of Guan Qianqian's skirt.

Gu Ruoshui saw something was wrong. She transformed into a streak of lightning and flashed behind Ruan Mingzhu in an instant.

Her sword moved with blinding speed. Before Lin Xunzhen could even raise a defense, the black blade sank into Ruan Mingzhu's abdomen from behind.

A tingling, crawling sensation shot through her body. For a moment, she was stunned. Her grip loosened, and the long blade fell from her hand.

It clanged against the ground.

It all happened so fast that no one in the entire arena had time to react.

In the next breath, Ruan Mingzhu's senses snapped back. The gale around her sharpened, and she felt the spray of her own blood mist before her eyes, obscuring everything.

The thick, cloying scent of blood filled her mouth and nose.

She had been sensitive to smells since childhood, and this overwhelming odor struck a chord deep in her mind. In the darkness of her blindness, it forcibly dredged up the memory of when she wasn't strong enough yet—pinned down in the sand, pummeled like a dog with its tail between its legs.

The taste of blood brought fear, but also excitement.

It was as if something inside her had awakened. Ignoring the sword wound in her belly, she gripped Guan Qianqian's skirt with all her remaining strength, letting the sharp winds carve into her flesh. Like a sand wolf that had bitten into a gazelle's belly, refusing to let go even as its hindquarters were kicked apart.

Guan Qianqian, suddenly yanked downward, was a spellcaster completely unsuited to close combat. Her mind went blank. She was so terrified she couldn't even scream.

The two plummeted.

Gu Ruoshui lowered her sword tip and did not pursue. By her estimation, Ruan Mingzhu had no strength left to fight. And since Guan Qianqian was a cultivator, a fall wouldn't do her much harm.

Lin Xunzhen steadied herself to catch Ruan Mingzhu, while Qing Zhouxue moved first, flying up on her sword.

As the three drew closer, nearly brushing past one another, Qing Zhouxue reached out her hand.

No.

Ruan Mingzhu clung desperately to Guan Qianqian, her mind hazy. Even if Qing Zhouxue caught her, she was already gravely wounded. Even with a healer present, she'd have lost too much vital energy.

She might not have won, but she absolutely refused to lose.

Qing Zhouxue was about to grab her when Ruan Mingzhu gathered the last dregs of her spiritual power into her legs and kicked off the Qingshuang Sword, sending Qing Zhouxue flying back several zhang.

Using that momentum, Ruan Mingzhu lashed out with a spinning kick that caught Guan Qianqian directly on the neck.

Guan Qianqian went limp, instantly unconscious, and the force of the blow sent her tumbling out of the ring, crashing into the crowd and eliciting cries of shock.

—Followed by the second heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

Qing Zhouxue, kicked aside without hesitation, steadied the Qingshuang Sword and slowly circled down from above. Her gaze fixed on the center of the arena, and for a moment, she was stunned.

The great drum was struck with force.

Ji Linjiang turned around. "Guan Qianqian is out."

The entire sequence had unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Gu Ruoshui's eyes widened slightly as she looked at the figure in the center of the arena, blood and red robes blending into one... She had never imagined the girl could be so ruthless, so absolute.

Bai Su was frantically trying to save Ruan Mingzhu, channeling her wood-affinity spiritual power to stitch together the most fatal sword wound in her abdomen, along with internal injuries at several vital acupoints.

The rules of the Immortal Ascension Assembly stated that failing to rise after a short time also counted as elimination.

With each count Ji Linjiang called out, another bead of sweat formed on Bai Su's brow. Her hands were beginning to tremble as she prayed for any sign of movement from Ruan Mingzhu.

But when Ji Linjiang called the final number, he sounded deeply regretful. It seemed Ruan Mingzhu had no hope of getting up again.

Perhaps the injuries were too severe—simple healing was no longer enough.

At last, Ji Linjiang struck the drum once more and announced, "Ruan Mingzhu is out."