Chapter 1999 — With Utmost Difficulty

To all appearances, Wei Zhao had come off the worse in that first exchange, seeming gravely hurt; in reality, however, he had sustained no serious injury. He had simply ridden the momentum of the Earth-stage man in black's technique and let himself be flung through the air, rather than bracing to take the blow head-on.

As for the Earth-stage man in black, though he had fallen back only a few steps, he was hardly better off. In that instant, a mountain-tumbling, sea-overturning shock had rattled every organ in his body; it was only by swiftly circulating his inner method, without so much as a change of expression, that he managed to calm the turmoil.

By now Wei Zhao had understood the matter as well. The Furious Flame Fist was fierce indeed, each of its forms a full grade above other martial techniques of the same rank—but if he met another's third form with his second, he would still suffer for it, especially when his own strength was the weaker. If his true qi could not rival his opponent's in abundance, even the unleashing of a same-rank technique was bound to be compromised.

Seizing the moment while the Earth-stage man in black stayed motionless, Wei Zhao rapidly set the Xuanyuan Dragon-Subduing Art in motion to repair his wounds. He could see that the other man was perhaps healing too, yet Wei Zhao did not choose to press the attack then.

If the two of them were to trade blows head-on until one gave out, the eventual loser would have to be Wei Zhao, for his strength could not match the other's. This strategy of striking once and then repairing himself, however, gave Wei Zhao no small advantage.

The Xuanyuan Dragon-Subduing Art could mend his injuries without limit, whereas his opponent could do no more than soothe his wounds. There was no way the man could fully recover in a short span of time.

Xu Shilan, for her part, covered her mouth with her hand for fear of distracting Wei Zhao—yet all the while her heart ached with worry for him.

"Again!" No sooner had Wei Zhao healed his wounds than he denied his opponent any further time to rest. Calling out the third form of the Furious Flame Fist, he shot toward the Earth-stage man in black like a bolt of lightning. Where his fist carved through the air, a long dragon of fire took shape, screaming against the resistance of the wind in a drawn-out wail.

"You court death!" The Earth-stage man in black could hardly believe that Wei Zhao dared meet him in force again. After that probing exchange, he had already felt out Wei Zhao's foundation to the bottom. The boy's technique was overbearing—how he had managed to train it all the way to the third form was beyond comprehension—but his underlying strength was unquestionably no more than early Earth-stage. It was slightly stronger than the ordinary early Earth-stage, as if on the verge of a breakthrough, but it had absolutely not yet reached the peak of the early Earth-stage!

The aftermath of their collision likewise revealed at a glance that Wei Zhao was markedly weaker: the Earth-stage man in black had not retreated more than a few steps, whereas Wei Zhao had been flung directly backward. The two were simply on two different levels of strength!

To keep forcing head-on clashes under such circumstances—was that not the same as asking to die? A single clash might not kill him, but several more would surely be the end of him. The Earth-stage man in black was thus deeply puzzled: what exactly was Wei Zhao thinking?

In truth, Wei Zhao was not seeking death. It was only that, for now, he had no alternative. The one advantage he possessed was his own rapid healing. If he could keep colliding with the Earth-stage man at the height of his martial superiority, and still buy himself enough time between clashes to catch his breath and mend, then Wei Zhao was confident he could lay the Earth-stage man low!

Whether it would go as Wei Zhao hoped, however, was not yet clear.

"The fourth form? How is that possible? How can it be the fourth form?" The Earth-stage man in black had meant to counter with the third form again, only to discover that what Wei Zhao brought out proved to be the fourth. After all, each successive form consumed true qi at a geometric rate. In ordinary circumstances, when one's rank was not yet lofty, even a single unleashing of the mightiest form of a martial technique would drain a huge amount of the true qi from one's body!

Take the Earth-stage man in black himself: as an adept of the mid Earth-stage, he could unleash the fourth form perhaps ten times at most before he was worn through. As for Wei Zhao, an early Earth-stage hand, ten uses of the second form would already be the best he could manage—not to mention the third or fourth!

Thus the Earth-stage man in black looked on Wei Zhao's fourth form with great astonishment, unsure what the boy meant to do. Yet of one thing he could be certain: Wei Zhao intended a head-on clash!

Chagrined, the Earth-stage man in black likewise transformed the third form he had been about to use into the fourth, and sent it against Wei Zhao.

In fact, he had not wanted to waste any time on Wei Zhao; his goal was Xu Shilan. Even those words of his about fighting to the death had been spoken only to frighten Wei Zhao into saying something soft and backing away. He had never expected the opposite effect—this madman was prepared to fight to the death, heedless of his own life!

Bang! Seeing the icy mist on the man's left hand suddenly turn several degrees sharper, Wei Zhao's heart clenched. Still, he gritted his teeth and charged to meet it. Against an Earth-stage adept above his own rank, Wei Zhao had not the slightest certainty of victory. Had the man been merely one rank higher, Wei Zhao saw clearly, he could have settled him entirely with the Furious Flame Fist.

Had the Earth-stage man in black not mastered that fourth form of the Frigid Snowthorn, Wei Zhao could have defeated him with the third form of the Furious Flame Fist, for that third form was already infinitely close to another man's fourth. But as luck would have it, this Earth-stage man was two ranks above him, and had cultivated the fourth form of the Frigid Snowthorn besides. Wei Zhao could at best force a draw—and even that was with the utmost difficulty.

The thrill of killing in a single move, which he had enjoyed back in the Profound stage, had all but vanished, and that chafed Wei Zhao beyond measure. To have plummeted from the number one beneath the Earth stage to nearly the feeblest existence beneath the Heaven stage was enough to make him vomit blood.

The flames of the Furious Flame Fist smashed into the icy mist of the Frigid Snowthorn in a tremendous collision of energies, and Wei Zhao's body was once more sent flying backward. Of course, the Earth-stage man in black was not much better off either.

After all, the third form Wei Zhao had driven out was already infinitely close to the other's fourth. In such a head-on clash, Wei Zhao had already suffered internal injury—so how could the other man have come out unscathed?

The Earth-stage man in black was so furious he could have cursed his mother. Wei Zhao was clearly far weaker than he, yet he could somehow unleash a fourth-form martial technique just as well. This kind of head-on collision was a tactic that wounded both sides; in the end, whoever's true qi proved fiercer would hold the advantage, buying his enemy's ruin at the price of his own injury.

Naturally, Wei Zhao was not in good shape either. This blow had caused him far more harm than the last. He spat blood four or five times in succession, and his face turned deathly pale.

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