Zhang Lifen danced on the edge of a knife. She faded backwards with the Tidewalker Step, launching a volley of arrows as she danced out of Kong Huizhong’s range. His gleaming cleaver slammed into the scarred ground. It cracked and split the earth. It melted stone. It had been too close.
The Emissary had shifted a large part of his attention to her. It was, all things considered, a good plan. Should he take her out of the fight, he could then focus solely on Yi Xiurong. As things stood now, if he met Yi Xiurong blow-for-blow, he opened himself up to attacks from Zhang Lifen. While she couldn’t do all that much damage to him, a thousand mice could bring down a tiger given enough time.
“Ignore me at your peril!” Yi Xiurong shouted. Her foot slammed into Kong Huizhong’s back with a burst of radiance from all nine of her golden disks.
Kong Huizhong merely grunted. Two of his cleaver-wielding arms swung behind him, only to crash against two of Yi Xiurong’s golden disks. The sound of two gongs layered upon one another washed over the battle. By now, there was hardly anything left for the endlessly building gong to break into rubble.
What had once been a hollow nestled among the rolling hills of the southwestern Dragon Empire was now a blasted wasteland. Any vegetation for miles around had long since been burned to cinder. The hills had been flattened. Any stone larger than a pebble had been shattered to dust. Blackened craters scarred the land all around. Even now, the three immortals reshaped the earth itself with every exchange of blows and techniques.
The two remaining cleavers swung at Zhang Lifen. Again she faded back, flitting just outside their range. She launched another rapid series of shots at her opponent. She preferred to stay outside of melee range in most cases, only closing in for an opportune strike when it was safe. But Kong Huizhong was nearly as fast as she was. Especially with the aid of the Sunset Empress herself.
Ever since he’d called upon his pact in full, he’d been slowly pushing back their advantage. Yi Xiurong did all she could to keep him occupied, but he was relentless in his pursuit of Zhang Lifen. As he fought, the tempo and ferocity of his attacks only increased. Zhang Lifen grimaced at the thought. This was the first time she’d ever faced a fully pacted member of the court, and she’d rather not do it again anytime soon. Maybe she’d have felt differently if they’d been on more even footing.
As it was, Kong Huizhong had lasted far longer than he’d any right to. He may be late Nascent Soul compared to Zhang Lifen’s place in the middle Fifth Realm, but Yi Xiurong was here. The gap in strength between the Fifth and Sixth Realms was immense. Yi Xiurong should have ended this fight hours ago, even as an early-stage Soul Refining cultivator. Instead, the Emissary stood against them both.
Zhang Lifen avoided another duo of strikes. The follow up slammed into Yi Xiurong’s disks. The First Disciple stepped into the space Zhang Lifen had just vacated, her radiance surging to an intensity Zhang Lifen had never seen. She had to turn away, for fear she’d go blind.
“My empress endures,” Kong Huizhong growled. “She will rip apart the Shrouded Peaks Sect when she is freed, and then she will take her rightful place, reigning over the whole of the world.”
It was a feral sound, pushing against the edge of actual speech. Over the course of their battle, Kong Huizhong had grown more vicious, more animalistic. More demonic. The core was certainly asserting itself, but the Emissary still held control. That was the most frightening part.
Sha Xiang had been at the very edge of her limits during her fight with He Yu. Yi Xiurong was right to disable the girl, then expel her from the sect. She would have lost herself had things been allowed to continue. It had been best to let her die in the wilderness, devoured by her own spirit.
Kong Huizhong was different. He owned his core. The core’s power was his, in truth. He wielded as effectively as his all his other techniques. His core wasn’t simply a parasite leeching off his spirit—it was a part of him. A part he could bring to bear as effectively as all the rest. It was the only explanation that made sense. The only thing Zhang Lifen could think of that allowed him to stand against the both of them.
“Your empress is a pitiful shell,” Yi Xiurong shot back. “She was trapped once, and she has only bled strength in the thousand years since. You give yourself to a husk, a living corpse.”
Nine beams of radiant light converged on Kong Huizhong. The iron giant of his presence shrugged them off like they were nothing more than a bright morning sunrise. The feeling of wrongness that emanated from the activated core redoubled once again. Zhang Lifen shook her head as she drew back another arrow.
The blackened, bloody suit of iron armor rushed her. She released her shot and faded away. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator had their limits, and hers drew close. That last attack even cut her gown. It was only a matter of time before she made a mistake.
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Yi Xiurong slammed a fist into the back of the Emissary’s wrist. He dropped one of his cleavers. The remaining three turned on Yi Xiurong. The following exchange gave Zhang Lifen enough space to pop a medicinal pill into her mouth and bite down. Relief flooded her along with the pill’s restorative qi. The shift of focus also gave her enough space to for the Heart Piercing Black Rain’s ultimate technique.
Eighty-one arrows fell upon Kong Huizhong. Although there wasn’t much Zhang Lifen could do to him by herself, even a moment’s distraction could swing the tide of battle. Kong Huizhong twisted, defending as much of her technique as he could, while also keeping most of his attention on Yi Xiurong.
In the very instant the Emissary’s attention split, Yi Xiurong launched a brutal assault. A series of punches, kicks, elbows, and knees so blindingly fast Zhang Lifen couldn’t track them. Each strike carried an explosion of radiant qi. Each impact lit the battle like a miniature sun.
It was passing strange that no other members of the court had come to his aid. A fight like this would be felt by experts for a thousand miles in any direction. Was Kong Huizhong the only cultivator of note the Sunset Court yet still had in the west? Had the sect’s campaign truly been so effective?
Zhang Lifen desperately wished her perception technique was even half as capable as Master Cai’s. She was all but certain he could have answered that question for her. Given his rapid advancement, perhaps even He Yu had progressed the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment to where even he could provide insight. Such questions had to be left for later.
She turned her full attention back to where Kong Huizhong clashed with Yi Xiurong. The iron colossus of his presence showed cracks and breaks across its surface. The molten heat dripping from the joints was more viscous than before, a consequence of succumbing to Zhang Lifen’s water-aspected qi. Even the previously slick bloody sheen had turned the color of rust and now flaked off to reveal the dull black of the metal below. His cleavers were similarly dulled, and even the sharpness of his killing intent, previously so finely hones, seemed blunted.
Kong Huizhong’s face was twisted into a mask of pain and rage. His hair had come loose from his crown hairpin to hang freely about his head. Every swing of his weapon was just a hair slower than the last. The tempo of his attacks slowed. The rhythm of his strikes faltered. He stumbled.
Yi Xiurong slammed a fist into his midsection and sent him staggering back. Zhang Lifen launched another volley of the Heart Piercing Black Rain. He threw one of his cleavers in her general direction, even as he spit up a mouthful of blood. It didn’t even come close to hitting her. Another sequence of blows from Yi Xiurong sent him to one knee.
His presence flickered. The demon core ebbed, and his spirit retreated. Zhang Lifen poured everything she had left into one last push. Now would be the worst time to let up. She knew it, and so did Yi Xiurong. The First Disciple blasted Kong Huizhong with nine beams of radiant qi. He pitched forward, barely catching himself. From his hands and knees, he looked to Yi Xiurong with a mix of hatred and fury. And then—pride.
“I am not the last,” he said. As defiant as he tried to make himself sound, his voice barely carried enough for Zhang Lifen to hear. His spirit had faded to almost nothing after Yi Xiurong’s last attack. He felt no stronger now than a particularly talented cultivator of the Body Refining stage.
“You are the last in the west,” Yi Xiurong said. She practically loomed over him, with her nine golden disks arrayed in an arch above her head.
Zhang Lifen frowned. Something about the whole situation seemed off—the tide had turned too quickly. It was almost as though Kong Huizhong had simply given up once he realized the battle had truly turned against him. Didn’t he have an escape talisman of some sort? No treasures he could sacrifice to at least leave with his life?
“Make sure you destroy his core,” Zhang Lifen said. “Wouldn’t want him coming back after all this effort now, would we?”
To her credit, Yi Xiurong didn’t take her eyes off Kong Huizhong. “I don’t know what sort of novice you take me for,” she snapped.
“Just wanted to make sure you remembered that killing a Nascent Soul is easier said than done.”
Although she’d kept her voice light, Zhang Lifen still tried to puzzle out what was going on. As a Nascent Soul, he might take over another body if they weren’t thorough. Or if another member of the court found him in time. Surely he still ought to try to escape? Coming back to life wasn’t easy, after all. Not even for a member of the court, demon core or no.
Yi Xiurong’s spirit flexed. Radiant qi surged out, and her stark light bathed the world. Her peacock feather manifested beneath her feet as the very ground fell away to nothing under the weight of her spirit. Under the erasure of her purging radiance. She held out a hand, one finger pointed at Kong Huizhong’s core.
“I serve my empress even in death,” Kong Huizhong said.
Zhang Lifen realized their mistake an instant too late. “Yi Xiurong! Wait!” She surged forward, her presence a plunging waterfall, rushing with the speed and weight of the law of earth. Time seemed to slow as Yi Xiurong formed her technique. For the first time in her immortal life, Zhang Lifen was too slow.
The beam from Yi Xiurong’s finger pierced Kong Huizhong’s core. Nine more columns of radiance descended upon him from the nine disks arrayed around the defeated Emissary. Zhang Lifen slammed into Yi Xiurong. A vain hope, an attempt to tackle her to the ground before it was too late. It was like slamming into a mountain.
Kong Huizhong’s spirit faded. His presence retreated. He choked out a bloody laugh as his cultivation base flooded into the demon core.
Yi Xiurong grabbed Zhang Lifen and simply tossed her aside. “What do you think you’re doing? We must—”
Far to the west, a column of red light a hundred miles across pierced the sky. A moment later, a shockwave of rapidly fading heaven and radiant qi crashed over them. An overwhelming and insatiable sense of want settled over the whole of the Dragon Empire. With it came the sound of a soft, satisfied laugh.