Chapter 115: Blood Curse

Ye Hua leaped forward, his form flickering like a phantom. With a single blade in his hand, he swung horizontally, his movement swift as a gale, striking toward the backs of the two men.

The man who had come to the rescue, having just seen Ye Hua wound his companion with a single strike, was already gripped by shock and trepidation. Now, while shielding his partner, he suddenly felt a tidal wave of blade energy crashing against him from behind. The razor-sharp wind bit into his skin, causing searing pain throughout his body. Panic-stricken and unable to think clearly, he flung his hands backward in a desperate defense.

A thunderous explosion echoed through the air. The young man turned his head sharply to look, only to see shimmering rays of light erupting amidst a cloud of yellow sand and mist. It was clear the enemy had been trapped within, but just as his racing heart began to steady, a strange white light flickered eerily within the yellow haze. His heart tightened, sensing disaster. Before he could cast another spell, the yellow sand flared with a brilliant, blinding light, followed by a cataclysmic roar that dispersed the mist entirely.

Several figures darted through the dissipating sand, closing in rapidly. Terrified and driven to the brink of madness, the two men scrambled aside, crying out, "Uncle! Master!"

The gaunt old man, who was currently besieged by Hong Ri’s Nine-Star Staff, had been keeping a fraction of his attention on the skirmish. Initially, he had assumed his disciples’ failure was due to carelessness and arrogance. Now, seeing the young man break through his disciples’ Yellow Crystal Sand with such effortless ease, he was struck by profound alarm, finally realizing the true prowess of his opponent.

Hong Ri, seeing the gaunt old man’s face twisted in frantic rage, let out a booming laugh. "What? Still hoping to escape my Nine-Star Staff?"

He changed his hand seals, and the nine stars dancing in the sky suddenly flared with intense radiance, striking simultaneously at the old man. Flustered and overwhelmed, the gaunt elder was forced to focus entirely on defense, unable to spare a thought for anything else. Despite his burning fury, he found himself trapped in a desperate struggle.

Ye Hua darted forward, ghost-like and ethereal, moving like a wisp of smoke until he arrived behind one of the men. With a shout, he unleashed a right-handed strike, slamming it into the man’s back. Unable to turn or defend, the man let out a cry of pain as he was sent flying, spraying a mist of blood from his mouth even before he hit the ground.

Seeing this from afar, the gaunt old man’s hair stood on end with rage. With a bestial roar, he brought his left hand down sharply across his right, severing several of his own fingers. As lines of blood spurted out, he thrust his hand upward, sending four streaks of crimson light shooting forth like lightning to strike the Nine-Star Staff.

The nine stars dancing in the sky were thrown into disarray, several being knocked off course. Originally glowing with five-colored light, they were tainted by the crimson energy, turning the color of glowing coals. In the distance, Hong Ri’s face paled; he staggered back, his heart filled with shock.

The gaunt old man swayed, broke free from the Nine-Star encirclement, and, after a brief pause, roared with fury as he lunged toward Ye Hua.

***

Seeing this, Hong Ri was seized by alarm. Forcing down the turbulent blood in his body, he waved his hand, and the nine stars in the sky pulsed with synchronized light. They converged, weaving together in a brilliant, dazzling display of kaleidoscopic, shifting radiance, transforming into a skeletal serpent that shot toward the gaunt old man like a lightning bolt.

Nearby, Hong Xing was locked in a fierce duel with the man wielding the bone blade. Fearful of losing focus, he had remained cautious, but when the bone-blade wielder caught sight of the blood-stained fingers of the gaunt elder, his heart faltered. His blade movements slowed, and Hong Xing seized the opportunity to launch a ruthless assault. His long sword flashed like a torrential downpour, forcing the bone-blade wielder into a defensive, ragged retreat, leaving him no room to counterattack.

Ye Hua, seeing his opponent collapse from his palm strike, felt a flicker of triumph. Just as he stepped forward to finish the job, he heard a fierce whistling sound approaching from behind. He turned sharply to see the dark, gaunt old man rushing toward him, followed closely by the skeletal serpent. The two were like shooting stars, arriving in an instant.

Startled, Ye Hua could barely react before the gaunt old man was upon him. With a cackling roar, the old man raked his ten fingers forward. Feeling an overwhelming sense of danger, Ye Hua had no time to think. With a thunderous shout, he channeled his energy, his fists turning to gold, and lashed out. A series of cracking sounds echoed as Ye Hua felt a searing pain in his arms—ten lines of blood energy had coiled around his limbs. Then, a titanic force slammed into him, sending his body flying through the air.

As the gaunt old man prepared to pursue, the skeletal serpent closed in. Cursing, the old man—evidently aware of how troublesome the serpent was—turned and clapped his hands together. Amidst a murky purple glow, four more lines of blood energy shot out to envelop the serpent. The serpent’s tail suddenly whipped around, causing the purple light to flare before it exploded in total silence. A sphere of reddish-purple light bloomed, transforming into a kaleidoscope of colorful clouds that rolled outward—dazzling, shifting, and vibrant—followed by a deafening thunderclap that shattered the air.

The gaunt old man was struck by terror. Before he could process what was happening, a gale-force wind hit him like a tidal wave. The air itself felt sharp as blades, piercing him like a thousand arrows. As agony wracked his body, his only thought was, "He detonated his own artifact! This… this… I fear my end has come!" He heard the sickening crunch of his own chest bones failing under the pressure. Unsure how many ribs had broken, he was swept away by the storm.

Nearby, Hong Xing and the bone-blade wielder, witnessing the catastrophe, both changed color and retreated. Hong Xing rushed to Hong Ri’s side and asked, "Big Brother, young Ye..."

Hong Ri’s face was etched with anxiety. The area was filled with swirling, impenetrable mist, making it impossible to distinguish anything. "Young Brother Ye took that wretch's blow head-on; I fear for his life. If that old man hits him again, there is no hope of survival..."

Ye Hua, having taken the brunt of the old man’s strike, had been sent flying until he landed on a craggy rock. A chill wind blew past him, and when he tilted his head to look, he realized he was right on the edge of the Oblivion Abyss. "Close call!" he thought. "If I had fallen, there would be no coming back!" Sharp pain shot through his arms; the ten lines of blood energy had burrowed deep into his flesh. His blood surged, his internal energy was in total chaos, and his arms felt as though they had been shattered. Glancing back, he saw the skeletal serpent explode in a cloud of mist. Unable to discern his surroundings, he thought, "This is for the best. The enemy won't be able to find me. I must wait until the wind dies down and the mist clears before I move."

Who would have thought that a moment later, he would hear a whistling sound, as if something were flying toward him? Then, with a dull thud, a heavy object landed nearby, followed by the sound of coughing and wheezing. Then, a wet spurt—the smell of blood filled the air, as if someone had been severely wounded and had coughed up several mouthfuls of blood.

Ye Hua was startled. "Who is this? Could it be that gaunt old man? If it is, what should I do?" As he worried, he heard the figure cough again.

"This person is surely heavily wounded. I don't know if they still have the strength to fight, but if it is that dark, gaunt old man, I must take this opportunity to finish him!" Resolving himself, Ye Hua forced his internal energy to stabilize his blood flow. As a warm current flowed through his arms, he took a breath and thrust both palms out silently.

***

Unexpectedly, his palms met a pair of flesh-and-blood hands mid-air. A surge of incredibly tyrannical internal energy rushed toward him from the opponent's palms! A low, cackling laugh echoed: "Cough… cough… you little thief! You actually dare to… cough, cough… you don't know when you're going to die!"

Ye Hua was horrified. He never imagined he would strike the old man’s palms directly. As the enemy’s energy flooded into him, he realized too late that the old man had been feigning weakness, waiting for Ye Hua to commit his power before unleashing a vast, torrential sea of internal energy. His chest felt as if it were being crushed; his already chaotic blood flow surged out of control, and he tasted sweetness in his throat before spitting out a spray of blood.

The opponent seemed immensely satisfied, whispering, "Cough… cough, little thief, today I will let you... Eh?!" Ye Hua knew this was a life-or-death moment. The enemy’s vast energy was tearing through his meridians like a scythe through dry grass. If he couldn't hold on, he would surely perish here today.

Ye Hua gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. He retracted his right palm and then thrust it forward with sudden, violent force. A dull, tearing sound like leather being ripped followed, and he felt his right palm sink into something damp and soft. He heard the opponent let out a low groan of pain and a roar of rage—he had seemingly driven his hand into the old man’s chest. Before he could exert more force, Ye Hua coughed up another mouthful of blood. His world spun, and his consciousness began to fade.

The gaunt old man had already been critically wounded; having his opponent's palm thrust directly into his heart was a final blow. For some reason, he felt only a dull ache, followed by numbness. The internal energy he had gathered dissipated, and his Dantian was all but empty. He could no longer fight. A sense of confusion and loss washed over him: "I never thought that after traveling ten thousand miles to the Central Plains, I would fall here..."

After a moment, his mind cleared for a fleeting second. He screamed internally, "Could it be that I am to be finished by a mere junior? Hmph, what a disgrace to my reputation!"

Images of the most insidious blood-curses flashed through his mind. Every time he thought of one, he shuddered. Then, a thought turned his heart cold with malice: "Even if I die, I cannot let you off, you little thief! Even if my three souls and seven spirits are scattered, I will make your life worse than death! Hehe… Hahaha!" With that thought, he bit his tongue, sprayed a mist of blood, and muttered a spell. He reached out a finger, and a beam of glowing white light shot forth, striking Ye Hua square on the forehead.

Ye Hua was horrified, but he had no strength left to dodge. As the light hit his brow, he resigned himself to death. Yet, after a long while, he felt only a gentle warmth on his forehead with no discomfort. Surprised, he opened his eyes. The mist had cleared slightly, and he saw the gaunt old man. Blood was streaming from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth—the old man was utterly devoid of life.

Ye Hua’s heart steadied as he staggered to his feet. Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted in his mind, as if dozens of lightning bolts had struck at once. His entire body felt as if it were being sliced by ten thousand knives and bitten by a thousand storms. He let out a cry of pain and stumbled. Suddenly, his left foot stepped into empty air. His body tilted, and he began to fall straight down. Ye Hua was struck with terror as he heard the howling of the abyss wind in his ears. He fell for an eternity, yet seemed never to reach the bottom...