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...
At this point, with the continuous, transparent flickering of screens appearing in his vision like shards of broken glass caught in a rainstorm, Ji Wuye, who stood atop the black-tiled roof of a second-story medicinal herb house, suddenly dropped to one knee.
His crimson pupils twitched rapidly, sweat beaded along his furrowed brow and slid down his ashen face in rivulets. His eyes, wide and intense, scanned every minute detail of the glazed black tiles beneath him, which were gradually blurring into an abstract mosaic.
Pain, akin to a thousand white-hot needles piercing his flesh, crawled across his brain with searing intensity and gnawed at every nerve ending of his being like a famished swarm of locusts.
Simultaneously, strange knowledge invaded his consciousness - foreign yet intimately familiar - as countless crystalline images of martial arts stances, strikes, and their kinetic manifestations began flooding his mind in rapid succession, as though being carved into the core of his memory by some unseen force.
His head pounded as if enveloped in roaring flames, the pulse of blood thundering in his ears, and his world tilted precariously, the horizon line seeming to bend and waver before his disoriented gaze. Then, without warning, his body tensed and moved with a mind of its own...
CLANK!
In an explosive instant, his perspective shifted violently. Though his vision swam in a diaphanous blur, the jarring clang of clashing metal reverberated through the air like a thunderclap. A ghostly transparent screen flickered into being before his eyes.
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Amidst the hazy distortion cloaking his vision, where his innate reflexes had seized control of his body, Ji Wuye's crimson eyes caught the rough, indistinct form of a figure - an assailant attempting to ambush him from the shadows.
The sneak attack failed, deflected by his passive skill, and another cold, impassive screen message manifested luminously before him.
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BANG!
The thunderous backlash of the deflected ambush detonated like a tidal wave crashing against unyielding stone. The shadowy, blurred figure was flung backward with staggering force, propelled by some unseen paradoxical energy.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
And as swiftly as a night fog burned away by the rising sun, all traces of the disorienting pain and dizzying anguish that had gripped Ji Wuye only moments before utterly vanished, banished into oblivion as if they had never existed at all.
Once again, lucidity washed over Ji Wuye's world as the hazy veil lifted. Golden rays of the morning sun bathed his flushed cheeks in a burnished glow, illuminating his wide, intensely focused eyes that still twitched with residual tension.
Beads of sweat glistened along his brow and soaked through the tattered white fabric of his martial robe, which clung to his firmly toned frame. His long, white fair hair, tousled by the gentle caress of the wind, seemed to shimmer like spun silk in the warm light.
'That...' His inner voice trailed off as he inhaled a deep, steadying breath, willing his body and mind to find calm amidst the relentless onslaught they had just weathered.
The thunderous pounding of his heartbeat resonated in his ears like the cadence of a war drum. Slowly, methodically, he centered himself, dispersing the lingering chaos until it eddied into tranquility once more. Only then did he reopen his eyes.
The crimson depths that moments before had burned with feverish intensity now regained their usual penetrating yet collected gaze. His rigid posture relaxed fluidly as he exhaled, muscles loosening beneath sweat-slicked skin.
The first thing his heightened senses registered was the crumpled form of the failed assassin.
The unorthodox martial artist, violently repelled by his passive skills, lay lifeless - flung backward with brutal force until the jagged edge of a cut bamboo tree pierced his torso, leaving his body limp and motionless.
'...dangerous,' Ji Wuye murmured inwardly, giving voice to the unfinished thought.
This was the first time—yes, the very first—that he had successfully replicated and seamlessly chained together so many intricate martial techniques in a single moment.
As for this feeling… it had been an eternity since he last experienced a sensation like this...
A heart-pounding, adrenaline-fueled moment where the tension of life-and-death hung thick in the air, electric and undeniable. Even if it was merely the byproduct of his mind being overwhelmed by a deluge of new information, the feeling itself was unmistakable, searing his awareness with crystal clarity.
That frisson of intense peril brushing against oblivion's edge, vivid and unforgettable, gripped him still - every elevated sense burned into his consciousness.
'I'm even trembling,' Ji Wuye mused with a faint, wry snort of amusement as he noticed the persistent quivering in his limbs.
His hands, still gripping the hilt of his jian with white-knuckled intensity, trembled subtly - belying the outward calm he had forced upon his mind and bearing.
Reassessing the chaos unfolding around him, he surveyed the battlefield with a calculating gaze.
The first group of Righteous Sect Elders remained embroiled in a fierce melee, against the unorthodox enemy vice-leaders.
Meanwhile, the Patriarch of Kunlun traded earth-shattering blows with the fearsome Black Thunder Emperor, their pitched duel shaking the very air with the thunderous concussive force of their exchanges.
Elsewhere, the second group of Righteous Sect Elders had managed to regain tenuous control, pushing back the relentless onslaught of crazed unorthodox martial artists as the Kunlun disciples rallied to support them.
Wave after wave of wild, desperate Unorthodox Sect martial artists hurled themselves forward, relentlessly ascending. But, of course, with their tiny numbers in comparison, it was an impossible endeavor.
However...
'Reinforcements...' Ji Wuye muttered darkly under his breath, his crimson eyes narrowing to slits as his gaze settled on a distant, ominous shadow creeping across the horizon over the vast grasslands beyond Kunlun's Qiuxiu Village.
Visible through the swirling remnants of battle-smoke hung a looming pall - hundreds upon hundreds of armed figures steadily converging on their location, a sea of glinting blades and weighted chains bristling like a forest of upraised lances.
Then which mean... the Beggar Sect had been deceived by blatant lies.
If not for Ji Wuye's memories from the previous timeline, he might have believed the naive claim that fewer than 160 martial artists had been sent to assault the Kunlun Sect, which boasted thousands of disciples.
But such concerns could wait. For now, Ji Wuye's focus was drawn inexorably to the layered, translucent screens floating before his eyes.
Kunlun - Aura Ascension, Wudang - Tianyi Divine Sword, the Black Thunder Emperor’s Martial Art, the Sky Demon Cult - Sky Demon Blade Art, and the Black Scorpion Society - Venomous Beast Technique—all of these and more were now etched into his consciousness. An overwhelming deluge of martial techniques and knowledge had been replicated into his mind.
'But sadly, the Black Thunder Emperor's martial art heavily relies on Thunder Qi,' he thought with a tinge of regret, his brow furrowing slightly.
It was an element he had not yet had the opportunity to acquire. However, there would undoubtedly be methods for him to use the martial art regardless, but...
At that moment, his crimson gaze shifted downward to the chaotic battlefield below, where the Elders and experts clashed in fierce exchanges.
Sigh...
'Let's just focus on this for now,' Ji Wuye muttered inwardly, shaking his head.
The insistent temptation to test and replicate more of the freshly imprinted moves tugged at his consciousness, but he forcibly reminded himself of his original, paramount goal - to protect his Senior Sister Shen Bi and prevent her tragic demise during these tumultuous events.
Refocusing his thoughts like a well-honed blade, Ji Wuye turned his full attention to the final translucent screen that still flickered before his eyes.
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