Chapter 27: Han Qianliu

Murong Xun said nothing to the two people ahead of him. He simply heightened his vigilance, preparing himself to attack at any moment.

Suddenly, with a sharp whistle, he drew his bow and nocked an arrow, releasing it instantly without any buildup of strength. The arrow vanished into the darkness, but there was no response, no hint that it had found its mark.

Instead, his sudden movement startled the two people walking in front.

“Aah!” Zhang Jiao cried out, startled and confused.

“What happened?” Xu Ying halted, gripping her short sword tightly, her eyes darting nervously around.

“Keep moving,” Murong Xun’s voice was low and steady, calming the others’ nerves.

The three continued forward, but a shadow had settled over Murong Xun’s heart. He was certain he’d seen a figure standing where he’d fired the arrow, and with his unfailing accuracy, the shot should have hit. Yet there was no reaction at all. When he looked again, the spot was empty—nothing remained.

He glanced at the talisman in his hand. The old one had been discarded; this was a fresh one. Like the previous two, it began to burn slowly, though the rate of combustion had decreased. Murong Xun wasn’t sure what this change signified, but he felt it must be a good omen.

Suddenly, Xu Ying, who was leading, halted alertly. “What’s that sound?”

Murong Xun stopped as well; he too had heard it. The noise was still some distance away, indistinct and unclear.

“Should we take another route?” Xu Ying glanced at Zhang Jiao, worry etched on her face.

“Keep going,” Murong Xun replied. Recalling what the Lost Ghost had told them about a powerful figure battling the master of this place, he decided to take the risk.

After all, this domain was rife with sinister dangers no matter which path they took. If this was indeed the master’s territory, perhaps there would be fewer threats here. And if the powerful figure was keeping the master engaged, it could be to their advantage.

Xu Ying remembered the Lost Ghost’s warning as well and nodded, pressing forward without another word. As they advanced, the sounds ahead grew louder and clearer. Soon, the tumult became unmistakable, and they could see, not far ahead, two figures locked in fierce combat, shifting positions with blinding speed. The three dared not move any closer.

Murong Xun raised his bow and began to draw, gathering strength. He did not know the identity of the one matched against the towering figure, but knowing it was a human was enough.

The shockwaves of their battle rippled outward, engulfing the area and making it far too dangerous to approach. Any misstep could spell disaster.

He released the arrow.

A confused grunt sounded—Han Qianliu had sensed the attack and was surprised; he hadn’t expected anyone else to intervene. He felt the arrow lock onto the King of Fiends beside him. The force, however, was lacking and the fiend king caught the arrow effortlessly, crushing it to nothing.

But that single arrow was enough to break the stalemate. Han Qianliu seized the opportunity, bringing his long blade down hard on the fiend king, then dragging the weapon downward, widening the wound.

The fiend king’s clothing tore under the slash, revealing dark red flesh, the corrupt, grotesque body now exposed for all to see.

Seeing his attack succeed, Han Qianliu wasted no time and leapt back to create distance.

The headless fiend king spun a massive blade—three or four meters long—wildly in its hands, turning itself into the center of a deadly maelstrom. Everything nearby was within its reach. If Han Qianliu had been greedy and tried to press his advantage, he would have been struck down instantly.

The headless corpse raged, lashing out blindly. When it found no new target, it seemed to pause in confusion.

Just then, another arrow flew through the air.

Han Qianliu’s expression changed. The headless corpse, which had been searching for something to vent its fury on, now found a target and strode purposefully in the direction from which the arrow had come.

This time, as the corpse tried to snatch the arrow as before, it found that the force behind it was much greater—the arrow drove forward, forcing the corpse to stumble back a step.

Han Qianliu’s eyes lit up. An unexpected ally had joined the fray, and this second arrow was not lacking in power.

Seizing the moment, Han Qianliu darted forward, closing the distance to the corpse. His left hand slid along the blade of his sword, and suddenly the weapon gleamed a fierce crimson.

The corpse, massive as it was, moved awkwardly. Han Qianliu, who barely reached its waist, pressed close. The fiend king tried to hack at him with its enormous blade, but at such close quarters, it was unwieldy.

Han Qianliu slashed across the creature’s body. The blade bit into flesh but stuck fast, unable to go deeper.

A gigantic fist swung toward him and he had no choice but to leap back, wrenching his sword free as he retreated.

The corpse’s punch missed, and black liquid oozed from the wound at its waist, filling the air with a foul stench. Though it made no sound, its anger was palpable.

It spun, slicing at where Han Qianliu had stood, but he was already far out of reach. It was only because the corpse was sightless that Han Qianliu could fight it in this way.

Now, four or five meters away, he crouched low, hardly daring to breathe. His grip tightened on his sword hilt as he prepared to unleash his most powerful strike.

The corpse continued to swing its blade wildly in all directions, but because of the angle, it could not reach Han Qianliu. Yet the huge weapon swept so close to his head that it was terrifying—one mistake and he would be cut down.

But Han Qianliu’s composure was extraordinary. He waited, not forcing his momentum to its peak, but gathering just enough power for a decisive attack. Like a sprinter poised at the starting line, legs bent, he launched himself at the corpse with the speed and ferocity of a hunting leopard.

Sensing danger, the corpse raised its arm to block. But Han Qianliu’s charged attack was overwhelming—it severed the creature’s forearm with a single blow.

The other hand swung the great blade at him, but he ducked low and evaded, striking at its thigh. Without the added force of his prior buildup, this attack only sank a little way into the bone before sticking fast.

Han Qianliu frowned, pulling his sword free and retreating once more.

To his surprise, the corpse did not counterattack. Instead, it turned and, with huge, loping strides, fled into the distance.

Han Qianliu stared after it in astonishment. By the time he collected himself, the monster had already disappeared.