"Man, these days everyone is dying so quickly," Ling Xuan muttered to himself. He absentmindedly tossed a small stone in his hand, watching it bounce off the ground before rolling away. "Like, you know, there was this one dude I met a few years ago during the Disciple Selections. He was a pretty chill guy, and we got along. But not long after, I found out he got killed."
Ling Xuan sighed as he glanced at the man he held by the neck, his grip firm and unyielding. The man's face was pale, his eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe. Ling Xuan barely noticed, lost in his own thoughts.
"You know," Ling Xuan continued, more to himself than to his captive audience, "if I were a reader and saw this, I'd probably say it's a waste of characters. Maybe even think the author is just in a hurry to finish things and is probably a terrible writer. But looking back, I realise… isn't that just how life is? Unpredictable?Of course this can be just a coping mechanism and the author could be quite shit."
The struggling gasps of the man finally broke through Ling Xuan's musings. He blinked, as if coming back to reality, and looked down at the Sect Master of the Regal Peacock Sect, still dangling from his grip.
"Oh yeah, I totally forgot about you," Ling Xuan said with a casual shrug. Without another word, he twisted his wrist, snapping the man's neck with a sickening crack. He dropped the limp body to the ground, dusting off his hands as if he had just finished a menial task.
"The Dynasty really nerfed the Grandmasters on this continent," Ling Xuan thought aloud, his gaze drifting off into the distance. Back in Old Xia's era, his power had permanently reduced the potential of every Grandmaster on the continent. It was a strategic move, ensuring that no future enemies could become too powerful.Not like anyone could've reached the level of power The Dynasty held already.
"If my approximations are right," Ling Xuan thought, his mind tracing the notes from Xia Longwei's ancient scripts, "a Grandmaster who didn't specialise in combat but focused on other arts would already be as strong as a hundred Peak Masters. That's assuming those Masters only cultivated the basic arts and nothing of high value."
Ling Xuan's brow furrowed as he continued his internal monologue. "And now, those same non combatant Grandmasters struggle to take on eighty Masters. All these restrictions, all these limits, they'd disappear if anyone left the continent. But no Grandmaster is allowed to leave.Kudos to the Dynasty."
Ling Xuan's eyes fell on the Regal Peacock Sect Master's body, lying crumpled at his feet. Despite the broken neck, the Sect Master's Qi still pulsed faintly. Grandmasters had incredible healing abilities and durability; even now, the man's body was trying to repair itself.
"Well, that won't do," Ling Xuan thought with a faint smirk. Almost instinctively, his Qi flared, his meridians lighting up with a synchronised rhythm. The air around him vibrated as he began to absorb the Sect Master's Qi, drawing it into his own body. Ling Xuan's meridians worked like a perfectly tuned machine, ensuring that every drop of Qi was captured and redirected into his own reserves.
The Sect Master's body began to shrivel, the flesh sloughing off his bones, leaving behind a decaying husk. His limbs withered, collapsing under their own weight as they lost all vitality. Ling Xuan watched, a hint of satisfaction on his face. "Yeah, this is the stuff," he murmured under his breath. The Qi of a Grandmaster was like a dam breaking, a torrent of power flooding into his meridians. As the energy surged through him, his pathways forged new connections, constructing new meridians to handle the increase.
Ling Xuan's eyes flicked up, focusing on the two remaining Sect Masters who stood paralyzed by fear. "Where were we again?" Ling Xuan asked, his voice calm, a smile playing on his lips. The sight of his smile sent a shiver down their spines, knowing they were next.
BAM!
A dull sound echoed through the battlefield as Li Zhongu's fist collided with the Treasure Knight's chest, sending him stumbling backward. The Treasure Knight struggled to regain his footing, but Li Zhongu didn't let up. His attacks came in a relentless flurry, each blow driving the Knight further back, his heavy armour ringing with each impact.
"How!" The Treasure Knight bellowed, his voice tinged with both anger and desperation. For a brief moment, Li Zhongu paused his assault, cocking his head as if genuinely curious.
"What?" Li Zhongu asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"How the hell are you this powerful!? Aren't you just a strategist?" The Treasure Knight shouted, confusion and frustration evident in his voice. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realised he had been given a moment to speak, a rare reprieve. He began to frantically calculate how he could exploit this pause.
Before he could even form a coherent plan, Li Zhongu resumed his attack, his fists a blur of motion. "I didn't realise you were such a moron! You think a Dragon General doesn't know how to fight? What idiocy!" Li Zhongu roared, his voice filled with disdain. His next punch landed squarely on the Treasure Knight's helmet, and a resounding crack echoed as a large fracture appeared, spider-webbing across the surface.
"Ahhhhh!" The Treasure Knight screamed in agony, pain radiating through his head as the blow sent shockwaves through his skull. His vision blurred, and he staggered back, dazed.
As Li Zhongu approached the Treasure Knight, his foot nudged against something on the ground. He looked down to see the corpse of the Emerald Herald, his former opponent now lying forgotten in the dust.