Chapter 119: The Tide of Spiritual Power

Only when three shadowless flying swords pierced Huangfu Qi’s body did he realize that he had taken things too far. He had lost—and at the hands of the junior sister he loved most.

What was more, those three shadowless flying swords had originally been obtained from his father only after he had pleaded and wheedled endlessly, all so he could give them to his beloved junior sister.

In his final moments, Huangfu Qi pointed at Shui Hanmeng. His eyes were filled with boundless venom and disbelief as he slowly collapsed...

But dead was dead. What could he do about it?

This was what it meant to bring ruin upon oneself. In the Blue Ice World, the number of young elites who died every day because they had courted death was beyond counting.

“Damn you, Huangfu Qi! You forced me into this!”

Shui Hanmeng staggered, finally managing to remain upright only by bracing herself against the rock wall.

She had caused a catastrophe this time. She had killed her senior brother—the only son of her master. What was she supposed to do now?

Her head throbbed, and her body had still not fully recovered from the hangover. Now she was faced with a situation she had no idea how to handle. Shui Hanmeng was on the verge of madness.

And besides, why had she been able to fall asleep like that? Where had the target named Lin Zhan gone? Why? Why had all of this happened?

The shadowless flying swords, the two intact Heavenly Paradise Chickens, and the shattered jar that had originally contained the Holy Spirit Spring...

Shui Hanmeng rushed over and kicked the half-broken jar and the Heavenly Paradise Chickens away with several vicious blows. They slammed against the wall with a series of heavy crashes. She then sat dazedly beside Huangfu Qi’s corpse and fell into a trance...

After who knew how long, Shui Hanmeng finally arrived at some sort of clear decision. She rose, searched Huangfu Qi’s body, and gathered his belongings. Then, inside the cavern, she dug out a pit with her sword, placed him inside, and covered him with earth.

She stepped outside the entrance and stood there for a moment. Then she turned back, picked up the two Heavenly Paradise Chickens from the corner, and carried them out.

Standing once more at the cavern’s entrance, she swung the Cold Dream Sword. A thunderous roar followed as layers of rock collapsed, and the cavern vanished beneath the rubble.

“Lin Zhan! My only remaining wish in this life is to kill you—to complete my master’s first mission, which is also his last!”

What changes would the setbacks of life and this sudden upheaval bring to the peerless female assassin...?

That day, Lin Zhan and Fang Daguang’s group finally managed to tour every corner of Eastcoming City.

Among them, only Ye Xiaoyao and Liang Siqi were somewhat better off, carrying a few spirit stones. Fang Daguang and Lian Ming, however, were paupers—and Lin Zhan was one of them as well.

The spirit stones he had possessed earlier were all gone. Everything left in his possession was either a precious treasure he could not bear to sell or something too illicit to bring into the light of day.

Thus, all along the way, he could only look without buying. The feeling was thoroughly miserable.

That evening, Ye Xiaoyao treated them to dinner once again. Afterward, Lin Zhan decided to act alone.

For one thing, he was afraid that if assassins appeared, the others would be dragged into the danger. For another, he needed a secluded place where he could continue cultivating.

Nothing was more important than improving his strength as quickly as possible.

Lin Zhan found an empty mountaintop, spread his spiritual sense across the surroundings, and sat cross-legged upon a boulder.

When Lin Zhan had met Fang Daguang and the others, he had appeared in his original disguise—the appearance of a menial disciple from the Green Bamboo Hall. Now, however, he had altered his face again. He did not know whether Shui Hanmeng would come after him once she awoke, nor whether her senior brother, who also wanted him dead, would appear.

It was better to disguise himself whenever no one was around.

Lin Zhan had overlooked one thing, however. The Shadowless Shrine tracked him through a unique inherited technique—a special perception of the aura belonging to outsiders who had crossed into this world.

Even if Lin Zhan used the extraordinary Disordered Mind, Bewildered Form technique, it was probably still of little use.

The Fortune Scripture had finally begun to show Lin Zhan an especially obvious benefit: the ability to control objects and swords.

Once he had mastered the Awakening of Fortune stage on the first page of the Fortune Scripture, it began circulating on its own at all times. It generated the power of his own fortune while absorbing and replenishing itself with the power of fortune contained in the people, affairs, and objects around him, continuously strengthening the wheel of spiritual power formed from that force.

As for the intermediate-stage technique Wind Rises, Water Surges, Lin Zhan was now following its formula and repeatedly comprehending and cultivating it.

“When there must be wind, let wind arise. When there must be water, let water surge. Wind gives birth to wind, water gives birth to water. Wind and water turn in their cycles...”

When Wind Rises, Water Surges was applied to the Wheel of Fortune, it caused spiritual power to form a tide, creating waves of spiritual energy.

For Lin Zhan, this represented another immense step forward.

Previously, when he used spiritual power, the amount he released directly determined the strength of the resulting attack. If he struck with thirty percent of his spiritual power, then the effect was equivalent to thirty percent of his spiritual power.

But if that same amount of spiritual power were released in tidal waves, one wave following another, each higher than the last, with the wind unceasing and the waves without end, then the final force of the attack could be multiplied several times over, even dozens of times, perhaps a hundredfold.

It was an utterly terrifying energy.

After cultivating Wind Rises, Water Surges for most of the night, Lin Zhan felt that his strength had increased considerably. Within his sea of spiritual power, the first page of the Fortune Scripture engraved upon the Wall of Fortune shone with even greater brilliance.

“Thousand Blossoms Sword, emerge!”

The Thousand Blossoms Sword, already a high-grade magical artifact, soared forth in a burst of jubilation, its sword aura reaching toward the heavens.

A vast and righteous energy surged within Lin Zhan’s chest. He leaped into the air and landed upon the sword.

“Rise!”

As his will and spiritual consciousness poured into it, the Thousand Blossoms Sword carried Lin Zhan swiftly through the air.

After half an hour of adjustment, Lin Zhan could be said to have gained an initial grasp of the difficult art of sword flight.

Lin Zhan was only at the second stage of the Yellow Rank. Though leaping and short-distance aerial movement posed no problem for him, he could not sustain himself once the distance or duration became too great.

Now that he could fly on a sword, his mobility had improved tremendously. In battle, he had gained a powerful safeguard and another formidable technique, while the consumption of spiritual power was not especially high.

“Heh heh, damn, this is exhilarating!”

Having tasted the benefits, Lin Zhan became even more eager to achieve perfect harmony with the sword. He had initially felt some resistance toward the Thousand Blossoms Sword, which had come from Burial Sword Peak and had once been used by Fan Ning. At last, however, he let go of that prejudice and acknowledged the sword as his master with his blood.

When he flew on it again, everything came even more naturally, as though man and sword had become one.

Through his spiritual consciousness, Lin Zhan seemed to feel a joyful sensation being transmitted from within the sword.

Controlling objects and controlling swords were essentially the same. Sword control could be used not only for flight but also to send a flying sword out to injure or kill an enemy. Object control worked in the same way.

If Shui Hanmeng’s three small shadowless flying swords had still been with him, Lin Zhan would now have been able to control them as flexibly as she had, killing without leaving a trace.

Controlling the self—moving oneself through space, or teleportation—was an even more profound and mysterious skill.

Lin Zhan experimented several times and could barely move himself half a foot from his original position.

Only then did he understand that the teleportation performed by the peerless female assassin Shui Hanmeng was already at the master level. She could tear open space, conceal herself within the cracks between dimensions, and emerge at the opportune moment. It was an art so refined that it bordered on the divine—a true crossing of space, unlike his own clumsy shuffle.

Thinking of this, Lin Zhan laughed self-mockingly.

“Moving half a foot is still moving. Half a foot is more than enough to evade a fatal strike!”

“Oh, is that so?”

Shui Hanmeng’s cold, mocking voice drifted through the air.