"Whoosh."
"Whoosh."
Across the vast plains, two figures moved in rapid succession—one fleeing, the other in pursuit. The fleeing figure was a young man clad in a golden python robe, now stained with blood. Deep gashes marred his shoulder and abdomen, and tendrils of inky black energy gnawed relentlessly at his life force.
Blood trickled from the corner of his lips, terror gleaming in his eyes. Channeling his divine power, he pushed his speed to its utmost limit.
Chasing behind him was a woman, an ethereal presence wielding an immortal sword that shimmered with an endless, chilling light. Her flowing black hair framed a face partially concealed by a ghostly mask, one that seemed to waver between laughter and tears. Draped in a moon-white robe, she exuded an unearthly beauty—her figure graceful yet commanding, her skin luminous as if sculpted from flawless white jade.
Beneath the mask, only her chin and a pair of crystalline, icy eyes were visible—clear as autumn waters, yet cold as permafrost.
"Die."
With a single slash, dazzling sword light erupted forth, its sheer force hurtling toward the young man. His face paled in alarm as he hastily turned, summoning an ancient silver shield to meet the attack.
"Clang!"
The deafening impact sent shockwaves through the air, distorting the surrounding space with divine force.
His shield wove intricate patterns of Dao and law in an attempt to resist, yet the impact still sent him flying, coughing up blood. The sheer magnitude of the sword's power was undeniable.
"Buzz!"
Step by step, the woman advanced, her immortal sword poised at the ready. The flickering sword aura in her grasp seemed capable of rending an entire world asunder.
"Buzz."
The void trembled. With an effortless motion, she traced an arc through the air, her sword severing the sky itself as a celestial hum resonated through the heavens.
"Clang!"
The young man braced himself, his ancient shield bursting with an azure radiance so intense that it dyed the heavens blue. But even this could not halt her relentless advance. She exuded an unrivaled sharpness, unstoppable and absolute.
"Clang!" "Zing..."
Again and again, she swung her immortal sword, each strike weaving an inescapable net of lethal precision. Like a celestial being descended to the mortal realm, her long black hair danced as her white robes billowed, exerting immeasurable pressure upon the wounded youth.
A golden radiance shimmered around him as he desperately defended himself, executing layered defenses of Dao and law. Yet, despite the ancient shield in his grasp, the relentless sword strikes forced him to spit blood.
"Clang!"
The final sword strike descended with an apocalyptic force, shattering the void. The young man was flung five hundred zhang away, blood painting the sky as his body plummeted toward the ground, his aura in freefall.
"Boom."
Despair filled his eyes as he watched the woman approach unhurriedly. Unwillingness gnawed at him. But just then, a new figure appeared, drifting toward them like a passing breeze. The fallen young man turned his head slightly, his gaze flickering with newfound hope.
A silver-haired youth, seemingly no older than twenty, approached with an effortless grace. His long silver hair cascaded like flowing mercury, his handsome face adorned with a warm, almost casual smile. Though his pace was leisurely, each step sent ripples through the void, as though he were teleporting with every movement.
A shroud of enigmatic energy enveloped him—both real and illusory, as if he existed half in reality, half in the void itself.
The gravely injured young man's eyes lit up. Forcing himself to endure his wounds, he moved toward the silver-haired youth, his voice calling out desperately.
"Senior, please save me!"
The newcomer—Chen Xiaoming—paused at the plea, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before amusement curled his lips. He had merely been passing by, drawn by the distant fluctuations of battle out of curiosity.
Now that someone had earnestly requested his help, well... how could he refuse?
After all, saving a life was a merit akin to building a seven-tiered pagoda.
"Hmph!"
Just as Chen Xiaoming prepared to act, an icy voice echoed through the air, sending an eerie chill that seemed to descend from the depths of the Nine Hells. A brilliant sword light slashed through the void, hurtling straight toward the injured young man's back.
Sensing imminent death creeping upon him, the young man's heart seized in terror. He willed his ancient shield to block the attack, but his grievous wounds betrayed him, and he coughed up another mouthful of blood.
Chen Xiaoming's expression darkened. To dare attempt a kill right before his eyes—did this woman think nothing of him?
"Buzz."
The void trembled as Chen Xiaoming's figure flickered, vanishing and reappearing between the two in an instant.
"Break!"
A single punch erupted forward, unleashing a dazzling silver radiance. The very air seemed to form towering waves in response, devouring the incoming sword light and reducing it to nothing. The residual force of his punch surged onward, barreling toward the white-robed woman.
"Buzz."
Her immortal sword slashed again, another beam of sword light severing the heavens. The massive silver waves were split apart, dissipating into the void. Holding her sword, the ghost-masked woman did not attack further; instead, she gazed coldly at Chen Xiaoming.
At the same time, Chen Xiaoming scrutinized her in return. Her strength... was indeed impressive.
As the two locked eyes, the injured youth finally exhaled in relief. He knew he was safe now.
This seemingly youthful man before him possessed power far beyond his own. Even a single casual step of his had left spatial remnants, a display of sheer mastery that sent shivers down his spine.
"Hand him over to me."
The woman's icy voice rang out, her masked gaze filled with unwavering determination.
Hearing her demand, Chen Xiaoming blinked in surprise before chuckling.
He had always been the one to act with arrogance—this was the first time someone else dared to be even more audacious than him.
"If you want him, you'll have to prove yourself."
With that, he seized the initiative. Before he could act, however, an extreme sword aura filled his vision—a sword strike so pure, so absolute, it seemed to materialize from the void itself.
"Buzz."
The void collapsed. In a flash of silver, Chen Xiaoming reappeared mid-air, his face dark with displeasure as he surveyed the aftermath below.
A bottomless chasm stretched before him, carved open by that singular strike. Staring into its dark abyss, he shuddered inwardly. That had been far too close.
"Not bad, you—"
Just as he was about to deliver a few threatening words, three more sword lights erupted toward him.
Damn it, at least let me finish my sentence!
Cursing inwardly, he activated the power of his bloodline. The void beneath him flickered and shattered, allowing his figure to vanish just in time to evade the strikes.
What kind of battle etiquette was this? Wasn't she supposed to let him throw out a few dramatic lines first?
Chen Xiaoming's eyes glowed with excitement. His battle spirit ignited—arriving in this world of Shrouding the Heavens, he had already encountered such a formidable opponent. His blood burned with anticipation.
Brilliant silver light erupted as a colossal ancient tree's illusory form emerged behind him. Upon its branches, a golden-red fruit gleamed, sending a seven-colored radiance into his body.
His figure blurred. In the blink of an eye, he was upon the white-robed woman, a silver wooden staff materializing in his grip.
A smirk curled his lips as he attacked.
"If it's a fight you want, then a fight you shall have!"
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