Chapter 148

The jade shattered with a sound like cracking porcelain.

The half-serpent tail carved on the relief broke cleanly, nearly turning to powder.

Yun Shuchen twisted a fine thread, as if tugging at an embroidery. With a flick of her wrist, she yanked it back, and a deep gash split across Tang Wuyue's chest, cutting to the bone.

Behind Yun Shuchen coiled a massive water dragon, and the ground was littered with mounds of earth—traces of Houtu's presence.

Yun Shuchen's hands, hidden in her sleeves, trembled slightly, blood seeping down from her fingertips.

Of the five orbiting points of light, three had already dimmed, nearly exhausted.

With such losses, the Five Elements formation had lost its balance, leaving only water and earth barely holding on.

Tang Wuyue wasn't faring well either. Her face was marked with wounds, the gash on her chest the deepest.

The demon women around stood solemn and silent.

A gust of wind swept toward Yun Shuchen. Her figure dissolved into countless specks of light, then coalesced not far away.

The prolonged battle frustrated Tang Wuyue, but she could do nothing to Yun Shuchen.

Yun Shuchen grew anxious too. Qing Zhouxue should be fighting at this moment, and the red string on her ankle hadn't slipped off. Whenever she was hurt or in danger, Yun Shuchen felt it in her heart.

Since the start of the Immortal Ascension Assembly, that faint wisp of consciousness had been nagging at her every moment, like a death sentence.

But she couldn't afford to lose her composure—at least not before Tang Wuyue did.

This game had been irreversible from the start.

Yun Shuchen's figure flickered in and out of sight like a specter, leaving only Xuanming and Houtu to hold Tang Wuyue at bay.

The water thread around her hand had already been forced back by Tang Wuyue's demonic energy, so she waited for the next opening.

Tang Wuyue lunged again, fingers sharp as blades. Yun Shuchen retreated once more, coiling like a snake sliding into water—graceful and still, biding her time.

***

Ruan Mingzhu's eyes were tightly shut. Her strength was spent; without spiritual energy to protect her, she had taken the brunt of the damage, so her internal injuries were severe. The medical disciples waiting nearby carried her down along with the bloodstained blade.

The arena floor still bore scattered traces of blood.

Bai Su's eyes glistened with tears. "I..."

Lin Xunzhen took a deep breath. "Her chest just moved. Don't worry too much. We did our best."

As far as sheer cultivation went, Guan Qianqian was only slightly inferior to Gu Ruoshui. Trading one for one, they hadn't come out at a loss.

Gu Ruoshui's face tightened. The black sword had already left its sheath, held firmly in her hand. She raised her wrist slightly—a stance ready to strike.

Qing Zhouxue pulled the Qingshuang Sword from beneath her feet and, using the momentum of her falling body, swooped toward Gu Ruoshui like a white bird folding its wings.

At the same time, she tucked her other hand behind her back, where frost patterns had spread to her fingertips.

When the two swords collided, a shockwave erupted, lifting Qing Zhouxue's hair and snapping her sleeves in the wind.

Gu Ruoshui could already feel her fingertips going numb; she was being frozen bit by bit.

Her ankles gave way under the force, even denting the arena floor.

At the critical moment, Gu Ruoshui released her strength and altered her sword stance. Her form vanished, transforming into a streak of lightning as she darted behind Qing Zhouxue.

She thrust several strikes in quick succession, nearly blurring into afterimages, thunderbolts exploding around her. The one with the spirit root immediately called upon the thunder to aid her.

The peals of thunder were endless, making Qing Zhouxue tense. All she saw were silver electric arcs, spreading through the air like snakes or worms.

Something collided, emitting a blinding flash.

The disciples watching felt their eyes sting, nearly blinded for a moment. No one knew what had happened. Those slightly closer to the arena felt their chests tighten, as if caught in the backlash.

What was happening now? Lin Xunzhen stood at the back, needing to sense the flow at all times, but she couldn't see anything at the moment either. Her heart leaped into her throat.

Junior Ruan was already out. Qing Zhouxue couldn't afford to be lost too.

Otherwise, this battle couldn't continue.

But for now, she couldn't see clearly and dared not act rashly, so she scanned the entire arena.

Squinting, she spotted two shadows—one black, one white—across the way. Gu Ruoshui and Qing Zhouxue were fighting so fiercely that they had edged backward, drawing closer to the boundary.

As the lightning flashed brilliantly, a trickle of water emerged from the void and, unnoticed, flowed behind the burst of light.

Fine silver veins twisted within the current, bit by bit, threading onto the black-robed disciple's skin, but he had just been injured and was a little slow to react.

In the middle of a duel, such a lapse couldn't be afforded.

He felt himself suddenly engulfed in a surge of water.

That alone was nothing to fear.

But Lin Xunzhen had conjured the water within the thunderstorm. More and more silver electric light fed on the water, crackling around him. Seeing something wrong, the black-robed disciple tried to resist and protect himself, but Gu Ruoshui's thunder cultivation was deep. He was powerless, his body sagging as he convulsed in agony.

Yet the water was driven by Lin Xunzhen's own spiritual power, so being wreathed in thunder also caused her backlash.

The white-robed disciple reacted more quickly, shouting, "Senior Gu!" as he stopped calling the thunder. But in the flickering light, Gu Ruoshui and Qing Zhouxue's figures moved back and forth, indistinct.

No one answered.

Gritting his teeth, he turned his gaze back to Lin Xunzhen.

Cold sweat beaded on Lin Xunzhen's forehead. When the thunder above abruptly struck, she summoned the sturdiest earth barrier she had, shielding herself and Bai Su.

At that very moment, the blinding light at the center dimmed. Gu Ruoshui's sword was horizontal, and Qing Zhouxue was still pressing against it. But the Qingshuang Sword was planted beneath Qing Zhouxue's feet, lifting her whole body into the air. In her hand—barely visible—was an insubstantial sword, yet it held back the sharpest of real blades.

Without giving an inch.

"You were hiding your strength before?" Gu Ruoshui forced out between her teeth, straining.

Qing Zhouxue stared straight at the point where the blades met, unsure how to answer.

She couldn't risk everything like Ruan Mingzhu did—not because she was delicate and couldn't bear pain.

Rather... she couldn't afford to be seriously injured, at least not beyond what Senior Bai could heal. Otherwise, her special constitution couldn't be explained and would be exposed before everyone.

So unless she was certain of safety, each of Qing Zhouxue's strikes carried caution, never fully committed, keeping some leeway to retreat.

Now that both were trapped in the thunderstorm, the environment had, in fact, become simpler. And having fought Gu Ruoshui twice before, she retained some vague recollections. Knowing what to expect, her attacks sharpened.

From behind came a sound of earth splitting and mountains crumbling. Qing Zhouxue instinctively shoved Gu Ruoshui away and turned to look.

Lin Xunzhen's spiritual power was nearly depleted. From large lotus petals and shields of water spread across the ground, to a wall of water blocking attacks in the dark, to the earth rampart she had raised over Bai Su—now her body felt as light as a sheet of paper, as though one poke could punch a hole through it.

She was the only spellcaster on Taichu's side, bearing an unimaginable burden compared to the opposition.

Bai Su could only heal wounds, not fill the emptiness in Lin Xunzhen's dantian. After casting one final technique, Lin Xunzhen stood still, her hands hanging at her sides.

The water in the air scattered abruptly. The black-robed disciple fell heavily to the ground, barely breathing, still trembling.

At this point, Qing Zhouxue's side could be said to be at a disadvantage.

Lin Xunzhen was nearly out of strength to fight, and Senior Bai was a healer, better suited to healing than combat. She couldn't do much in a fight.

Meanwhile, on Liuyun's side, the one with the spatial spirit root hadn't exhausted himself. Add Gu Ruoshui to that, and Qing Zhouxue alone might find it difficult.

Gu Ruoshui was a sword cultivator, a specialist in her field. Her junior was like a mirror, seemingly intent on giving his all in one final strike. He expanded his spell again and again, even drawing the heavens to react.

This was the decisive moment.

Qing Zhouxue stood still, her robes spotted with traces of blood. A light breeze stirred them, like a silver dragon surging through the clouds.

Though her body did not move, the Qingshuang Sword had returned to her grip. That frost-wreathed insubstantial blade cost too much to maintain, so she had dismissed it for now.

The ice on the ground had yet to melt, with not a single crack.

But the clouds above Qing Zhouxue gathered again, darkening the entire assembly grounds.

Qing Zhouxue looked up at the sky, her gaze heavy.

***

Inside the Jialuo Palace.

Tang Wuyue finally found her opening. She seized the water dragon by its vital point, wrapping it in coils of demonic energy. With each inch her sharp nails sank in, the light of the water spirit root dimmed further.

Houtu, the great serpent of stone and mud, silently split open its massive maw, ready to burst forth from behind Tang Wuyue and swallow her.

Tang Wuyue struck back with a palm through the air, denting the serpent's body. At the same moment, Xuanming broke free from her grasp, seeming to try to slip away. She instinctively reached out, intending to tear the dragon apart into two streams of water.

In the white mist, a pair of perfectly curved eyes quietly opened.

This was the chance.

***

In the darkest hour, a line of dawn broke over Liuyun Sect's sky.

Nearly a dozen thunderbolts fell together, not only cracking the ice layer but splitting the center of the arena in two.

The hollow, earth-shaking sound stirred a familiar memory in Qing Zhouxue. Her brow furrowed, and the Qingshuang Sword let out a keen as spiritual power overflowed.

Her head throbbed, about to split.

Her ears nearly went deaf.

A flurry of spring snow drifted into the thunderstorm, soft, cold, and white, clashing with the silver electric light.

Snow fell thick and fast, swirling around her, drawing Bai Su and Lin Xunzhen into its fold. When it blurred into a mass of shadows, it was so dense it could even block out the thunder.

The breath of the three was audible to one another.

Lin Xunzhen said weakly, "Junior, don't spend your energy protecting me anymore... If you keep dividing your attention, your chances only get slimmer."

Qing Zhouxue's expression seemed off. She badly wanted to cover her ears and shut her eyes, with no mind for what Lin Xunzhen was saying.

Hadn't her fear of thunder been cured long ago? She had been fine just moments before. Those earlier claps of thunder were... She had even been able to calmly duel with Gu Ruoshui.

Unconsciously, her nails dug into her palms, so hard that a red line of blood trickled down. Her breathing quickened again, her heart pounding like a hundred bells, each striking the next, muffled and hollow.

But gradually, as her breathing grew faster, a surge of desire and confidence rushed through her limbs—

Perhaps she had misjudged. This was not fear.

Bai Su noticed first. "Junior, what's wrong?"

When Qing Zhouxue raised her eyes again, they were tinged with frost, faintly gleaming, extraordinarily bright amid the dust and chaos—a stark, icy silver.