Internecine . . .
As Xue Dan-Ru continued her rapid spinning, the initial unease gave way to familiarity. By the nineteenth revolution, she had found her rhythm and could maintain her composure within the confines of the lotus seats' oppressive control. Though still subjected to their binding power, she had adapted, and the sense of restraint no longer felt as stifling.
With each successive rotation, the sword clutched in her hand extended, its blade elongating until it seemed impossibly long. The spiraling motion reached a crescendo as she cried out, "Slay The World!"
In response, an astounding cascade of brilliance erupted from her blade, casting forth a billion streams of resplendent light that filled the heavens. If the Nine Lotus Seats epitomized Xuan Bing's pinnacle, then "Slay The World" was the zenith of Xue Dan-Ru's martial prowess—a move that had long been revered as the ultimate technique of her sect.
For generations, these two formidable techniques had never clashed head-on. Yet here, amidst the cerulean skies of the Land of Han-Yang, they collided in a cataclysmic clash.
The moment Xue Dan-Ru unleashed "Slay The World" to counter her adversary, the nine lotus seats beneath Xuan Bing responded with a breathtaking bloom. The scent of lotus blossoms suddenly enveloped the battlefield, filling the air with an almost hypnotic aroma. Simultaneously, an endless onslaught of lotus blades manifested, imbued with a profound sense of "Dao," the eternal and invincible principle of existence.
Each lotus blade bore with it the intangible traces of "Dao," making them a force that transcended the mundane.
As if echoing the surge of power, all nine of Xuan Bing's ethereal forms opened their eyes in unison, each pair aglow with frigid determination. They extended their delicate, pale hands with chilling resolve.
"Sister Xue Dan-Ru," Xuan Bing declared with a poignant mixture of emotion, her lovely countenance reflecting both determination and sorrow. In the instant when the billion streams of light cascaded forth, her lithe form surged into the very heart of the nine lotus seats, akin to a moth drawn irresistibly into a searing flame.
A symphony of shadows, cast by her ethereal hands, danced throughout the battlefield, reaching towards distant figures who watched the unfolding spectacle with bated breath.
Xue Dan-Ru couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her adversary's unwavering dedication. Her eyes softened slightly, revealing a hint of admiration as she replied, "As you are sincere like this, I cannot refuse it. Then let's go together!"
With determination burning in her heart, she called out, "Nobody comes!" Her voice carried authority and urgency, a command that should have been absolute.
However, despite her clear directive, there were still five individuals who rushed forward as if driven by an unyielding purpose. Their actions defied her order, and they surged into the heart of the fierce confrontation with a single-minded determination that spoke of their unwavering loyalty to Xue Dan-Ru.
These five disciples appeared heedless of their own safety as they cried out in unison. Their simultaneous assault on Xuan Bing was a testament to their loyalty and the depth of their conviction. They attacked relentlessly from all angles, their strikes converging on Xuan Bing like a coordinated assault.
Among these disciples, two positioned themselves strategically, one on Xue Dan-Ru's left and the other on her back. In an astonishing display of martial prowess, they transformed into dozens of phantoms, forming an impenetrable wall of figures that shielded Xue Dan-Ru from harm.
Xuan Bing had been aware of the presence of these disciples loyal to Xue Dan-Ru from the outset, but her focus remained unwavering. She made no attempt to alter her chosen course of action, a testament to her unyielding resolve.
And then, with a thunderous boom that resonated through the battlefield, the two preeminent techniques of the Qing-Yun Realm finally clashed head-on.
Amidst the tumultuous clash, the lives of three of the disciples who had rushed into the fray were extinguished without mercy. They were crushed to dust before they could even utter a cry of despair, their sacrifice in vain.
The two disciples who had taken up positions to protect Xue Dan-Ru were the most formidable among their group. They had successfully shielded her momentarily before being forcefully repelled by the sheer might of the collision. It was a testament to their unwavering loyalty and courage.
As the resounding clash echoed through the battleground, one of the two disciples, a middle-aged man, launched himself forward with reckless abandon. With a deafening explosion, he self-destructed in a blaze of glory, disintegrating into countless fragments.
His sacrificial act managed to buy Xue Dan-Ru a fleeting moment of respite from the devastating power of the Nine Lotus Seats. However, it was short-lived, and the deadly strike from the lotus seats inexorably bore down upon the remaining disciple.
Smiling bitterly, he turned to Xue Dan-Ru and uttered, "Without us... you will still be the same... But without you... we..." His words trailed off, cut short by the impending cataclysmic impact.
Before he could complete his sentence or execute a self-destructive maneuver, the overwhelming force of the lotus seats' most powerful strike engulfed him. He struggled to initiate his self-destruction, but time was not on his side. The colossal impact crushed him mercilessly, interrupting his intended sacrifice. From within his body, ominous cracking sounds emanated, and his strength waned rapidly. In the end, his entire form shattered into countless fragments.
Without finishing his sentence, his last words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of loyalty and devotion.
Agony coursed through Xue Dan-Ru's body, a searing pain that felt as if her heart was being mercilessly torn apart. In a desperate surge of energy, she let out a resounding cry and fought back with all the fervor she could muster.
The clash of their swords reverberated through the battlefield in a cacophony of destruction, shattering both their weapons into fragments. The Nine Lotus Seats, a pinnacle of power, dissipated as well, its force spreading outward from their epicenter like ripples on a troubled pond.
The ensuing shockwaves were devastating, a barrage of explosive force that struck with unrelenting fury.
A barrage of palm attacks, like thunderbolts, rained down upon Xue Dan-Ru. Each bone-jarring impact exacted a toll, and her anguished cries filled the air. Blood erupted from her mouth repeatedly, transforming into a crimson mist that hung in the atmosphere. The cacophony of battle was accompanied by the ominous symphony of bones breaking within her frail form.
The nine Xuan Bing entities merged back into one, a transition marked by a series of subdued sounds.
Even as her own attacks took a toll on Xuan Bing, Xue Dan-Ru displayed unyielding resolve. Her injuries were severe, her life hanging by a thread, yet there was no trace of fear in her fierce gaze. Instead, it burned with an insatiable thirst for vengeance, a hatred that knew no bounds.
In the midst of this perilous stalemate, they locked eyes, the intensity of their shared enmity deepening with each passing moment. Their lives teetered on the precipice of oblivion, yet neither was willing to relent. The flames of hatred blazed even brighter within their hearts, defying the specter of death that loomed overhead.
After a prolonged silence, Xue Dan-Ru made a feeble attempt to stifle a forthcoming spurt of blood, but her efforts proved futile. With an involuntary cough, the blood erupted from her lips, staining her pristine white attire like a vivid crimson plum blossom against a backdrop of freshly fallen snow.
Gasping for breath, she managed to muster a weak yet defiant question, her voice barely more than a whisper, "Xuan Bing... Why don't you use your Ling Xiao Ice Art?"
Xuan Bing's countenance remained unyielding, her response to Xue Dan-Ru's question veiled by a sense of helplessness that gnawed at her from within. Inside her heart, an inner turmoil waged, accompanied by unspoken thoughts that echoed like an elusive whisper.
"If I could have employed it, you would have perished long ago," she silently conceded, the depth of her predicament apparent. "And I wouldn't be in this wretched state now."
But such a monumental secret could not be divulged, and so, Xuan Bing remained silent, her visage a mask of indifference.
Acknowledging Xue Dan-Ru's oath of relentless hatred, she regarded her adversary coolly. "I shall remember it as well," Xuan Bing replied, her tone carrying an undertone of solemnity that belied the fierce combat that had just transpired. "A vendetta that spans lifetimes, it seems."
With a resolute turn, Xue Dan-Ru made her choice. Her energy spent and her body battered, she embarked on a slow and arduous retreat, each labored movement filled with the weight of their shared enmity. The perilous stalemate had reached an impasse, and the only viable course of action was a reluctant withdrawal.
Hatred now deeply etched into her heart, Xue Dan-Ru harbored a vow that would endure as long as breath remained in her body. "As long as you and I draw breath," she vowed silently, "one of us will meet their end at the hands of the other. I shall carry this hatred until my last."
With deliberate pace, she distanced herself from the battleground, a desperate bid for survival. The lingering hatred fueled her resolve, spurring her to escape the deadly embrace of her adversary.
However, as she glanced back over her shoulder, she found no pursuit from Xuan Bing. The azure expanse behind her remained devoid of any signs of her relentless foe.
In that moment, Xue Dan-Ru's eyes transformed, her gaze now dominated by the consuming flames of hatred. Unhesitatingly, she pressed onward into the boundless void, her thoughts a silent oath to her nemesis.
"Xuan Bing! I shall never forget you!"
Unbeknownst to Xue Dan-Ru, a cruel twist of fate had already befallen her adversary. The instant she turned away, Xuan Bing plummeted from the celestial heights she had occupied just moments earlier.
For Xuan Bing, the use of the Ling Xiao Ice Art had long been an unattainable luxury, a casualty of the catastrophic damage wrought by the Heavenly Reverse Impact. Desperation had driven her to unleash the Nine Lotus Seats with every ounce of energy her dantian could muster, leaving her in an even graver predicament than her rival.
A precarious fate awaited both grandmasters, their destinies bound together by a hatred that transcended their current dire straits.