novelraw Chapter 155 She Is Delightful to Hold
Chapter 155 She Is Delightful to Hold
Zhang Xian hit the ground ready to kill.
Before his boots even found purchase on the stone, the azure spiritual sword in his hand hissed from its sheath. He slashed outward, summoning a heavy, abyss-like curtain of water to shield his descent.
Boom—!
A violent shockwave detonated against the water barrier. Borrowing the force of the impact, Zhang Xian slid backward, putting over a hundred zhang between himself and the ambush point in a heartbeat.
He steadied his breath and scanned the kill zone.
He stood on the fractured remains of a teleportation array in the center of a dilapidated, ghost-quiet town. Above, dark clouds smothered the sky. A familiar figure hovered in the void—Xuan Zhou. The man was draped in shadow, clutching an ink-black longsword. Beneath his hood, a gaze cold enough to freeze marrow locked onto Zhang Xian.
The air was heavy, viscous with the pressure of a formation: the [Heaven and Earth Prison Cage].
Four figures stood at the cardinal points of the sky, centering on Xuan Zhou. One was an old acquaintance—Jian Chen. The man’s aura had swelled significantly in the last two years, reaching the eighth level of the Golden Core. The other two were strangers, though their formidable auras mirrored Jian Chen’s.
But it was the final figure that made Zhang Xian’s pupils constrict.
A man in black robes stood silently, his presence as deep and terrified as the abyssal sea. It was the Nascent Soul expert who had faced off against Xia Xuanyin in the Southern Capital.
"Heh." Zhang Xian shook out his arm, which tingled from the initial impact. "A Nascent Soul grandmaster and a full tactical squad just for little old me? I didn't know I had so much face."
The black-robed Nascent Soul spoke, his voice grating like sandpaper on bone. "Are you sure you don't need my hand? We should strike together and butcher the brat instantly."
Xuan Zhou slowly raised his ink-black sword, leveling the tip at Zhang Xian’s throat. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Unnecessary. He is my prey."
"You've been squatting here waiting for me for a while, haven't you?" Zhang Xian cracked his neck.
Spiritual power roared through his meridians like a breached dam. He ceased suppressing his cultivation, letting the aura of the Golden Core fifth level erupt. Five-colored spiritual light swirled around him, with the Water, Wood, and Metal elements shining with particular brilliance.
Xuan Zhou remained silent, though shock rippled through his mind.
Too fast. Half a month ago, this boy was only at the fourth level. Today, he was at the fifth. More than that, the fundamental quality of his spiritual roots seemed to have undergone a terrifying metamorphosis.
Xuan Zhou wasted no more thought. He slashed. A streak of sword light, sharper and faster than before, tore through the air.
Zhang Xian did not retreat. He lunged forward.
His spiritual sword erupted with blinding blue radiance. He unleashed the Yunmiao Sword Scripture, the signature art of their shared sect. The sword light poured out like cascading quicksilver, dense and unbroken, crashing headlong into Xuan Zhou’s attack.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
A storm of metal on metal shrieked through the ruins.
Xuan Zhou’s eyes narrowed, and he countered with the same technique. The two practitioners of the Yunmiao Sword Scripture turned the air into a meat grinder of conflicting qi.
Zhang Xian moved like smoke. Behind him, two massive, phantom trees manifested—the Green Tide Life and Death Art. The spectral branches swayed, pumping torrential vitality into his sword strokes. Simultaneously, Metal and Wood qi fused, wrapping his limbs in a weightless gale that boosted his speed by another thirty percent.
For a breathless moment, the Golden Core junior fought the Nascent Soul expert to a standstill.
"Five Elements conversion?" Xuan Zhou’s killing intent spiked. "I truly cannot let you live."
The pressure of the Nascent Soul realm crashed down like a collapsing mountain. Xuan Zhou’s sword grew frenzied, abandoning finesse for raw, crushing power.
Just as the duel reached its fever pitch, with sword light swallowing Zhang Xian’s silhouette—the trap sprung.
The black-robed Nascent Soul observer moved.
He vanished like a ghost. In the time it took to blink, he rematerialized directly behind Zhang Xian, his blade thrusting silently toward the young man's heart.
But Zhang Xian was faster.
The moment the assassin’s blade kissed his robes, a violent, pitch-black flame detonated from Zhang Xian’s pores. The fire surged, wrapping him in a cloak of destruction—Yang Poxiao’s peak Earth-grade technique, [Shadow Flame].
The explosive propulsion of the [Shadow Flame], combined with his Wind Spirit Root and a high-grade Wind Talisman concealed in his palm, created a triple-layered acceleration.
Swish!
The assassin’s sword pierced empty air. An afterimage dissolved on the spot.
Zhang Xian’s true body was already gone, tracing a trajectory of black fire across the battlefield. He didn't dodge away; he teleported offensively.
He appeared instantly in front of Jian Chen.
Fast. It was illogical. It was impossible.
Jian Chen only had time for his eyes to widen. The protective golden light on his skin hadn't even fully flared to life—
"Die."
Zhang Xian’s eyes boiled with murder. He didn't hesitate. His sword momentum shifted instantly, carrying an apocalyptic heat. The black [Shadow Flame] coiled around the blue steel, compressing into a unstable, vibrating edge.
The blade still held the fluid momentum of the Water-attribute Yunmiao Sword Scripture. Water and Fire collided within the steel, birthing a jagged, destructive lightning.
There was no grand explosion. Just a sickening, wet tear.
Jian Chen’s protective qi shattered like wet paper. The spiritual sword, screaming with the fused power of opposing elements, punched through his abdomen without slowing down. It left a charred, bowl-sized cavity where his dantian used to be.
The man who had once hunted Zhang Xian to the brink of death couldn't even survive a single exchange.
"Urk—"
Jian Chen convulsed. His eyes bulged, filled with the terror of a man watching his own soul dissipate. The black energy wreathed around him evaporated like steam.
Zhang Xian didn't stop. His left hand shot out like a viper, wreathed in the eerie gray glow of the Soul Searching Art. He slammed his palm onto Jian Chen’s forehead.
Crack.
As his fingers dug into the skin, Zhang Xian saw a flicker of profound complexity in Jian Chen’s dimming eyes. Pain. Regret. And a strange, haunting relief.
Jian Chen’s corpse went limp, sliding off the blade to thump against the dust.
It had all happened in the spark of a flint—the counter-ambush, the kill, the soul search.
Crack. Snap.
The spiritual sword in Zhang Xian’s hand disintegrated, shattering inch by inch. The weapon hadn't been able to withstand the violent fusion of Water, Fire, and Lightning.
Zhang Xian tossed the useless hilt aside and smirked. "A sneak attack? Two can play at that game."
Slowly, deliberately, he reached into his robes and pulled out a warm, translucent jade pendant—the [United Heart Winged Pendant].
He held it up, letting Xuan Zhou see it clearly.
"Next time we meet," Zhang Xian said, his voice flat, "you die."
"You cannot escape!" Xuan Zhou roared, his composure cracking. "The [Heaven and Earth Prison Cage] is absolute! You think you can—"
"Oh, right." Zhang Xian interrupted him, his thumb hovering over the jade. He looked Xuan Zhou dead in the eye, a cruel, possessive smirk curling his lips.
"I've been staying with Wanqing these past few days. I must say..." Zhang Xian paused, savoring the moment. "She is... exquisite. Very nourishing."
He crushed the pendant.
"Bastard!!"
Xuan Zhou released a howl of pure, impotent rage. His sword light exploded, descending like a net of annihilation meant to shred the world itself.
Zhang Xian didn't even look up.
A blinding pillar of white light swallowed him. The formation barrier—the cage that was supposed to lock down space itself—melted before the pendant’s light like snow beneath a blast furnace.
Xuan Zhou’s strike slammed into empty earth, cleaving a bottomless chasm through the ruins.
The dust settled. Zhang Xian was gone.
Xuan Zhou hovered in the silence, trembling. The shadow beneath his hood violently fluctuated. That final sentence, delivered so casually, had dug into his heart like a poisoned barb.
"ZHANG XIAN!!!"
The scream, filled with boundless venom and humiliation, echoed over the dead city for a long, long time.