Li Fan stood speechless as the reality of the situation sank in. The mysterious material of Ellia’s armor was tougher than the body of a Condensed stage Spiritual Awakener, rendering his attacks futile. Ellia continued his slow, deliberate advance, utterly ignoring the blood tendrils lashing out at him.
“I’ll turn you into a husk, fake swordsman,” Li Fan snarled, his rage boiling over as he unleashed his demonic phenomena. A sinister red aura spread from him, the same power responsible for draining the blood from the countless corpses that littered the county.
But just as the deadly energy was about to engulf Ellia, a woman’s voice rang out from above. “I don’t think so, baldy.”
The red aura that was meant to reduce Ellia to a bloodless husk dissipated as a hint of purple energy interfered with it. Li Fan’s eyes shot skyward, where he could barely make out the figure of a woman, her form obscured by the thick fog. She wore a loose robe that resembled a cultivator’s attire, though it had a distinct difference he couldn’t quite place.
“Of course, you don’t know, you arrogant fool,” came the taunting voice of the woman chained to the wall. “Everywhere the Heavenfallen Knight goes, the Nether Witch follows.”
Li Fan clenched his fists, fury bubbling within him. “Don’t get arrogant just because there’s two of you ants. I’ll crush you all the same!”
Ellia paused as Li Fan began to tear at his own flesh, revealing a monstrous, blood-soaked form emerging from within. His cultivation surged from the Condensed stage of Spiritual Awakening to the Actualized stage, his body transforming into an eight-foot giant of blood. With a roar, he charged at Ellia, his fist crashing down with immeasurable force.
“DIE! DIE! DIE!” Li Fan screamed, his voice echoing through the night as his massive fist collided with Ellia’s great-sword. The impact was tremendous, pushing Ellia back a step, but not breaking him.
“Impossible!” Li Fan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “How can a Quasi Spiritual Awakener possess such strength?”
Desperate to turn the tide, Li Fan severed his own left arm and flung it into the air, transforming it into a swarm of tendrils aimed at the woman in the sky.
“Watch out, Lyra!” Ellia called out as he resumed his assault on Li Fan.
Lyra, still hovering above, merely smiled, her red lips contrasting sharply with her piercing purple eyes. As the tendrils approached, they met various fates—some froze and fell, others caught fire and were incinerated, and only one managed to graze her cheek, leaving a small cut.
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“What kind of Daoist magic is this?” Li Fan muttered, stunned by her effortless defense. But his thoughts were cut short as Ellia’s sword slashed through the air, forcing him to retreat. He barely managed to block the attack, but the blade had already cut halfway through his arm.
A malicious grin spread across Li Fan’s face as he quickly regenerated the damaged arm and the one he had sacrificed. If Ellia couldn’t kill him in a single strike, his near-endless regenerative abilities would eventually wear down the so-called knight.
Ellia, sensing Li Fan’s confidence, slowly raised his sword to the sky, the blade beginning to glow with a dark, ominous red light. “From where does your confidence stem?” he asked, his voice calm and cold.
Lyra, now examining the small cut on her cheek with a mirror, rolled her eyes at Ellia’s theatrics but cast a spell to empower him further.
The sword’s glow intensified, and Ellia continued, “You were right about one thing—I’m no swordsman. Have you ever heard of an executioner needing fancy techniques?”
The sword was now fully engulfed in the dark red light, pulsing with power. “As a cultivator, you should know about inscriptions,” Ellia said, his smirk hidden beneath his helmet.
Lyra’s spell activated, enhancing Ellia’s already formidable strength. It was time to end this.
Ellia moved with a speed that left Li Fan no time to react. In an instant, the great-sword cleaved through Li Fan’s right hand. Ellia paused, watching as Li Fan stumbled back, his mind reeling from the sudden loss.
“You cheat! Your strength isn’t your own!” Li Fan spat, realization dawning on him. His eyes darted between Ellia and Lyra, desperately trying to comprehend what was happening.
Ellia didn’t waste time with words. He struck again, severing Li Fan’s other arm with ease.
“A perverse freak like you dares talk about cheating?” Lyra called out, still hidden in the fog.
Li Fan, panicking, tried to regenerate his arms, but to his horror, the wounds refused to heal. “What did you do to me?!” he screamed, fear creeping into his voice.
“I already told you,” Ellia replied, his tone indifferent as he closed in.
Li Fan replayed Ellia’s words in his mind and suddenly remembered. “Inscriptions!? You expect me to believe you have that level of inscription on your sword?!”
He began to back away, his face contorted in terror as Ellia advanced. “Impossible! You convinced a Spiritual Inscriber at the Heavenly Eye stage to actually write for you?!”
Ellia was done listening. He raised his sword high, his voice calm and resolute. “Vanish into oblivion.”
The sword came down with incredible force, cutting through Li Fan repeatedly until his body was reduced to a formless, pasty substance. From the pile of flesh, a translucent, smaller version of Li Fan—the remnants of his soul—emerged and attempted to flee.
“I don’t think so,” Lyra said playfully, gesturing with her hand. The fleeing soul was drawn into her grasp, helpless against her power.
Li Fan’s spectral form looked up at her in abject terror. He had never imagined that the locals of this world could be so powerful and mysterious. “Look what you’ve done to my face,” Lyra said, her voice cold as she turned to show the tiny cut on her cheek. “I actually got a cut.”
With a casual flick of her wrist, she ignited the soul, setting it ablaze. Li Fan’s screams echoed through the courtyard as he burned, the agony prolonged by Lyra’s control. It took several minutes before the soul was finally consumed, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.