nycdaug Chapter 361 Bad Luck (Page 12)
Chapter 361 Bad Luck (Page 12)
Only Lin Qiye, Jialan, and Zhang Yun in black remained on the training ground, yet they had not yet engaged in actual combat drills.
Just as Lin Qiye was about to step forward, Jialan suddenly reached out and pressed down on his shoulder.
"I'll go first," she said softly, her golden eyes burning with fighting spirit.
Lin Qiye was slightly taken aback, then nodded in understanding and stepped back.
Garan strode towards the center of the arena, his long golden hair flying in the wind. With each step he took, faint golden ripples spread across the ground.
Zhou Ping gripped the chopsticks tightly in his hand with some nervousness. The ordinary bamboo chopsticks seemed to transform into peerless divine weapons in his hands, with fine sword energy swirling around the chopsticks like celestial maidens scattering flowers, drawing countless crystalline streaks of light in the air.
"I...I'm about to begin..." Zhou Ping whispered a reminder.
"Come on." Garan's lips curled slightly, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, yet he had already assumed a fighting stance.
"call out--"
The chopsticks shot out from the air!
In an instant, sword energy rained down like a torrential downpour! Each sword energy precisely avoided Jialan's vital points, yet blocked all her escape routes.
Garan moved like lightning, weaving and dodging through the rain of swords, his long golden hair drawing graceful arcs in the air.
"So fast!" Baili Pangpang's eyes widened. "Sister Jialan actually managed to dodge the Sword Saint's sword energy?"
However, the rain of swords grew denser, and Garan's hiding space was constantly being compressed.
Finally, as the seventh wave of sword energy struck—
"Snapped!"
Suddenly, Jialan reached out and precisely caught the flying chopstick!
Even more shockingly, she managed to break the chopsticks in two with a single forceful movement of her hands!
"Crack!"
A crisp cracking sound echoed across the training field.
Zhou Ping froze, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes filled with disbelief.
Zhou Ping stood frozen in place, his pupils trembling slightly.
He knew better than anyone that although he had suppressed the sword energy, the sword intent on that chopstick was enough to make any hard object pale in comparison—even the hardest alloy would be easily cut like tofu in front of this sword energy.
"This...how is this possible..." Zhou Ping stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Jialan released her grip, and the broken chopsticks fell to the ground with a "clatter." She shook her slightly numb hand, a confident smile curving her lips: "Your sword energy is sharp, but it can't hurt me."
Zhou Ping's eyes suddenly turned serious.
"Boo! Hah! Hah!"
In an instant, dozens of chopsticks shot out from his sleeve!
Each one is wrapped with sword energy of different attributes—some are as hot as fire, some as cold as frost, some as heavy as a mountain, and some as swift as the wind.
The chopsticks clasped together in the air to form an impenetrable net of swords, attacking Jialan from all directions!
Garan moved like lightning, weaving and dodging through the net of swords.
Her movements were fluid and graceful, each dodge and turn perfectly avoiding the sharpness of the sword energy.
Occasionally, a few sword energies grazed the hem of her clothes, but they didn't leave even a trace.
"This is astonishing..." An Qingyu, who had somehow managed to free herself from the wall, muttered to herself, pushing up her broken glasses, "This completely defies the laws of physics..."
Zhou Ping frowned slightly, then suddenly clasped his hands together and gave a soft shout:
"Sword Qi - Cage!"
"Buzz——"
The heavens and earth suddenly trembled violently!
Countless fine sword energies emerged from the void, instantly weaving into a huge transparent cage that trapped Garan inside.
Even more terrifying is that these sword energies are not static, but rather slowly contract according to some mysterious pattern. Each sword energy is constantly adjusting its angle, blocking all possible escape routes.
Garan's golden pupils suddenly contracted. She tried to punch the barrier of sword energy, but found that her fist seemed to be stuck in sticky mud, and her movements became extremely slow.
"Admit defeat." Zhou Ping's voice carried an unusual air of authority. "This cage will tighten as you resist... I don't want to hurt you."
Garan gritted his teeth and finally sighed, "I admit defeat."
The sword energy cage vanished instantly.
The training ground fell silent; everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.
A dark glint flashed deep in Lin Qiye's eyes.
He clearly saw the glistening bead of sweat on Zhou Ping's forehead the instant Garan conceded defeat—this bead of sweat defied gravity and hovered for 0.3 seconds before sliding down the Sword Saint's taut cheek.
The air in the training field suddenly became thick.
“Next…” Zhou Ping wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, his fingertips inadvertently tracing a path that seemed to slice the air with tiny black cracks. He looked nervously at the remaining two, “Which of you…”
"Shh!"
Zhang Yun, dressed in black, suddenly fluttered his red robe without any wind, leaving a bloody afterimage on everyone's retinas.
His true form had already appeared on the rooftop a hundred meters away, his slender fingers leisurely playing with a wisp of black smoke.
"Suddenly remembered..." His languid voice drifted from afar, each word carrying a heart-stirring resonance, "I still have soup simmering in the pot~"
Before the last note had faded, his figure had already transformed into countless blood-red feathers and disappeared into the sunset.
Only a few dark red feathers remained, slowly drifting down and burning to ashes before hitting the ground.
Lin Qiye: "..."
In the silence, the copy of "Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils" in his hand turned on its own without any wind, flipping to the page on "Six Meridian Divine Sword".
Zhou Ping: "..."
Suddenly, the chopsticks in my hand cracked with a thin crack.
Everyone: "......"
In the frozen air, only An Qingyu's mechanical prosthetic eye was spinning wildly, emitting a "click-clack" sound of calculation.
He suddenly held up his tablet: "According to calculations, the survival probability of those who flee now is..."
"boom!"
Lin Qiye closed the book expressionlessly, a gesture that seemed to release some kind of seal.
All eyes were fixed on him like spotlights, and even the falling sycamore leaves strangely avoided his position.
A sudden "boom" of explosion came from the kitchen in the distance, followed by Zhang Yun, dressed in black, humming cheerfully:
"Ah~ making soup really does require the Samadhi Fire..."
Lin Qiye took a deep breath, and a hazy starlight began to flow around him.
As he took a step, the frost that had formed on the ground automatically spread out into a silvery-white path.
"Please advise."
These three simple words caused the chopsticks in Zhou Ping's hand to suddenly tremble violently.
Sword Saint Zhou Ping looked down at his uncontrollably trembling fingers, then suddenly grinned, revealing a childlike, pure, and excited smile.
That smile brightened his entire face, and even raised the temperature of the training ground by a few degrees—if you ignored the sudden, tenfold increase in the pressure of his sword aura.
"Finally... I've been waiting for you."
His voice was very soft, yet it caused all the metal objects within a hundred meters to hum simultaneously.
The worn-out chopstick spun between his fingers, each turn leaving tiny cracks in the air.
"Jingle Bell--"
Baili Pangpang furtively shook the dice cup, a crooked gambling table in front of him: "Place your bets! I'm betting on how many minutes Qiye can last!"
"Crack!"
The alloy chair back in Jialan's hand was crushed to pieces, his golden pupils fixed on the center of the arena: "Little Qiye... good luck..."
"boom!"
Another explosion came from the kitchen in the distance, and the faint sound of Zhang Yun, dressed in black, humming cheerfully could be heard: "Soup cooked over a real fire smells so good~"
----
Three minutes later.
Lin Qiye lay on the ground, staring blankly at the sky.
He was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, looking like a newly unearthed mummy.
The only eye that was exposed was swollen so badly that even blinking made me gasp for breath.
"hiss......"
With each breath, I could feel my ribs protesting.
He tried moving his fingers, and immediately a suspicious red seeped out from the bandage.
An Qingyu squatted down beside him, frantically taking notes in her small notebook: "According to observations, the Sword Saint used a total of 27 lost sword techniques, 9 of which are recorded in 'Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils'..."
"Shut up..." Lin Qiye protested weakly.
Zhou Ping stood helplessly to the side, holding a first-aid kit in his arms:
"I'm so sorry! I couldn't stop myself..." He frantically pulled out a handful of pills. "These are recovery potions!"
"Snapped!"
Garan slapped aside the precious pills and pulled out a brand-new roll of bandages from behind his back: "Leave it to me!"
Her bandaging technique was extremely "gentle," causing Lin Qiye to roll his eyes back from the tightness.
"Gently... gently..."
"Bear with it!" Jialan ripped the bandage hard. "A real man's injury is nothing!"
"Crack!"
This is the sound of one of Lin Qiye's bones dislocating.
In the distance, Baili Pangpang was gleefully collecting money: "Hahaha, I've got it all! I told you it wouldn't last five minutes!"
Zhang Yun, dressed in black, appeared behind him at some point, his red robe still stained with soup: "Those who see it will get a share."
"..."
Under the setting sun, Lin Qiye, wrapped up like a rice dumpling, was carried on Jialan's shoulder as they walked towards the room, looking just like prey captured by a hunter.
The light in his eyes had faded.
Zhou Ping's gaze swept towards Zhang Yun in black like a sword's edge, his originally shy and evasive eyes now revealing a fighting spirit eager to try.
The broken chopstick in his hand moved on its own without wind, hovering and spinning in front of him, leaving traces that tore through space.
"it's your turn!"
This soft shout resonated with heaven and earth; the sycamore trees around the training ground moved without wind, and the fallen leaves were shredded into dust by the invisible sword energy before they even hit the ground.
Zhang Yun, dressed in black, stood on the rooftop, his red robe fluttering in the storm of sword energy.
A playful smile played on his lips as his right hand slowly emerged from his sleeve—his slender fingers were entwined with wisps of chaotic energy.
"Senior Sword Saint, please give me your guidance."
Before he finished speaking, he had already disappeared.
The next moment——
"Daozang Reincarnation Fist!"
The entire world seemed to have been paused.
On Zhang Yun's fist, illusory images of the Six Paths of Reincarnation flashed alternately:
The Heavenly Path shines brightly, the Human Path is bustling with activity, the Asura Path is filled with overwhelming battle intent, the Animal Path is teeming with beasts, the Hungry Ghost Path is filled with wailing cries, and the Hell Path is engulfed in raging flames...
Reincarnation
Zhou Ping's pupils suddenly contracted.
In a moment of haste, he pointed his fingers into a sword, and the broken chopstick burst forth with dazzling golden light, transforming into a ten-thousand-foot sword beam at the critical moment!
"boom--!!"
In the instant the fist and sword clashed, time seemed to be torn open.
The training ground undulated like waves, and all the spectators were thrown away by the shockwave.
Baili Pangpang rolled dozens of meters like a ball, finally getting stuck in the wall with a "bang".
When the smoke and dust clear—
Zhou Ping stood there, his hair ribbon broken, his long hair disheveled. The broken chopsticks in his hand had turned to ashes, and there were several charred marks on his sleeves.
Zhang Yun, dressed in black, remained standing in the same spot, but his red robe was mostly torn, revealing skin covered in strange runes. He shook his numb right hand and suddenly smiled: