"Immobilizing wind and rain with a single sword strike!"
"Sword skill of Shushan!"
"Why would a disciple of Shushan appear at this moment? How could they have arrived here so quickly?" thought Feng Xingyu, his brow furrowed as he rode on the back of the whale with a disgruntled expression on his face.
He knew that he would not be getting the Secret Key to the River Soldiers today, no matter what. This was because he had counted a total of 37 Shushan disciples in the rain, and 10 of them were of Psychic Realm strength. Seems like Shushan had already gotten wind of this secret and sent out disciples of such level and below, so as not to draw the attention of the other sects.
However, this was the Human World after all. As it was not the natural habitat of the Demons, their plan was not as sound as that of Shushan.
Judging by the fact that the disciples of Shushan had suppressed their urge to fight until the very last minute, it seemed that they were bent on obtaining the artifact today, even at the cost of the lives of other humans.
Just as Feng Xingyu was thinking about the next course of action he should take, all 37 disciples of Shushan had boarded the dragon ship and surrounded the sword bearing youth of the Demon Race.
Without wasting a breath, they drew their swords in unison, forming a tight circle around him.
The youth, who was still behaving arrogantly and suppressed everyone with his commanding aura moments ago, was pierced through by multiple swords very shortly. His body was burnt to ashes with a Mystical Green Fire Curse and scattered by the winds into the Luo River, leaving only his long sword on the deck of the ship as a mark of his presence earlier on. The sword trembled slowly, as if mourning for the loss of its owner.
A youth in a white shirt, who was standing in front of the other disciples, looked indifferently at the scattering ashes of his opponent before turning his attention to the whale not far away.
Feng Xingyu did not hesitate any further. Upon his instructions, all four of them on the back of the whale leaped into the air and fled in different directions. Feng Xingyu was the most skilled of them, and the demonic saber underneath his feet was ranked the highest. As such, his speed was the faster than his other companions, and he transformed into a long rainbow that arced across the sky. The other three were not as lucky.
The youth who was wielding a skull of a scorpion was run through by a flying sword, while the other one with the Bloodied Zombie Bird on his shoulder had his arms chopped off a short while later. Finally, their companion wearing the Seven Colored Water Snake as a belt was beheaded.
They were of Post-Celestial Realm level, and there was no hope of them surviving the siege of the Psychic Realm level Shushan disciples. In the Cultivation World, the flying swords of Shushan were the swiftest and most vicious, especially toward demons.
Think about it- how many demons had been crushed under the Demon Containing Tower, which shot up into the Heavens, over the millennia?
No other sect in the Human World knew more about demons than Shushan.
Therefore, when Feng Xingyu saw disciples of Shushan approaching, and that their numbers and power were greater than him and his companions, he was prepared to die.
"Faster, faster," muttered Feng Xingyu as he channeled the True Energy in his body with all of his might into the demonic saber at his feet. Even so, he felt wafts of cold air behind him. The pressure grew, and soon, he began to even feel a prickling sensation.
Someone was attacking with a sword behind him.
He wanted to see who it was but dared not, afraid that the action would slow him down. His father had taught him that survival in any fight with a disciple of Shushan could be decided in a split second. During that time, however, he was young and foolish, but now he regretted his arrogance.
What he regretted the most was not listening closely to what his father had said after that. "What should I do during instances like this?" he thought.
"How can I survive?"
The prickling sensation grew more painful to bear.
The sword of his opponent was drawing near!
"Fight on!" Feng Xingyu shouted through his teeth. He took in a deep breath and leaped, spiralling sideways for about three meters. He then grabbed the hilt of his saber, which was flying across the air, with both hands.
"The Clouds Disperse as the Gale Approaches!"
A gale appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around his blade as he struck toward his back.
As he expected, there was someone there wielding a sword.
"Remember my name- I'm Zhou Bufan of Shushan."
The man struck with a blow of his sword after he had finished speaking. There was no fearsome gust of wind or torrential downpour, and he did not shout. There was simply a green ray of light being produced.
This harmless looking ray of green light pierced through the fearsome gale, targeting the weakest spot of the demonic saber and flew straight at Feng Xingyu's heart.
Feng Xingyu's heart beat very quickly as he saw the ray of light heading straight toward him. His eyes turned blood red as the sleeves of his shirt burst apart. He grabbed the ray with his claws, chanting, "I want to, and I'm willing. Return me home!"
It was the shapeshifting skill of the Feng Division wolf clan, which would ignite the user's blood!
Zhuo Bufan's eyebrows arched as he said, "He is merely at three star Psychic Realm level, isn't he afraid of being permanently crippled from forcefully shapeshifting? Oh that's right- he's going to die anyway. He might as well give it his best shot."
"Your courage is commendable and worthy of another attack!"
Zhuo Bufan shook his wrists, producing another green ray of energy.
Feng Xingyu, who was standing not far away, was already extremely irritated. He was never humiliated like this in the Demon World before.
"Damn you! I curse your entire family to be crippled for the rest of their lives! The next time we meet, I'll kill you!" Feng Xingyu replied. The energy ray was drawing close, but he did not block it and instead dived toward the Luo River below him.
After all, he was using the secret technique of the Wind Division, and the ignition of his blood brought Feng Xingyu's speed up to another level. In the blink of an eye, he was about to touch the surface of the river, but unfortunately the speed of his opponent's attack was even greater.
The bolt of green energy was heading straight toward Feng Xinyu's back with unerring accuracy.
Feng Xinyu's speed increased again, from the ignition of his blood and the force of Zhuo Bufan's attack.
There was a small splash on the surface of the Luo River, which was also pelted by rainfall from the torrential downpour. Feng Xingyu's figure was reduced from a black shadow to a black dot, before completely disappearing from sight.
Zhuo Bufan frowned as he hovered above the surface of the river. He saw that his second attack had failed to kill Feng Xingyu. The demon was hiding a magic artifact with defensive properties on his back, and it was no ordinary trinket. It had saved his life at the most critical moment.
Zhuo Bufan's sword was also no ordinary weapon. There was blood in the splash above the Luo River just now.
If he continued his pursuit, he was certain Feng Xingyu would die.
He hesitated, however, upon noticing the strong currents of the river and the filthy muck at its bottom. Anyone who knew Zhuo Bufan well would understand that the swordsman had purposely allowed Feng Xingyu to escape not because he wanted to, but rather the water of the Luo River was too dirty for him.
Zhuo Bufan hated dirt and everything filthy, the river included.
Feng Xingyu would most likely have not expected that he managed to survive because his assailant was Zhuo Bufan, the gifted teenager from Shushan.
Zhuo Bufan summoned his flying sword back to his side and immediately drew out a white pristine handkerchief from his shirt sleeves to wipe down his weapon thoroughly, especially its blood-stained tip. His actions were extremely well rehearsed, evidence that he had performed them many times before. After finishing cleaning, he instantly threw the handkerchief into the river.
If Qian Shuxiao was here, he would have laughed derisively and made fun of the youth's obssessive compulsive disorder.