Chapter 4806 — Breakthrough! Peak of the Mid Nascent Soul Stage!

Since a head-on clash offered no chance of victory, then let it be a contest of endurance. So long as he had a moment's respite, Wei Zhao could replenish himself. The strategy might be a touch shameless, but so long as it won the day, who cared for such niceties?

The harassment tactics unfolded with splendid flair, and Leng Rufeng seemed utterly led by the nose. Yet after this had gone on for a time, his voice suddenly cut through the chaos: "Is this the whole of your repertoire?"

Wei Zhao's heart lurched at the words, and in the next instant the jade pendant's warning shrieked wildly in his mind. Without a moment's hesitation he threw his entire body into a backward retreat at full power—not merely the beyond-limit Butterfly Microstep, for this time he even employed the art of true qi propulsion. To save his life, every fraction of speed counted; a hair's difference might spell life or death.

The giant ice blade came down almost grazing the tip of Wei Zhao's nose, its afterwave instantly carving a savage, ghastly wound across his face. At the same time, the mountainous force of the blade hammered Wei Zhao flat against the ground once more, the scene a perfect repetition of the day before—the only difference being that this time Wei Zhao was wounded more grievously still, and for a long while could not rise.

Leng Rufeng strode to where Wei Zhao lay and was about to demand his surrender, when from below the platform Ning Xuefei cried out: "The incense is out! The time of one stick of incense is up!"

"Cough, cough..." Wei Zhao clambered painfully to his feet and staggered off the platform, leaving behind a remark that was all too familiar to Leng Rufeng and yet left him utterly speechless: "Seems my luck holds. We continue tomorrow."

Leng Rufeng stood frozen on the platform, not a word escaping him, as he watched Wei Zhao's bedraggled figure vanish from sight. Below, Ren Zhongyuan was stamping his feet in a fury: "Useless trash! He cannot even kill a mere Wei Zhao—and a wretch like that dreams of entering the Mystic Rank Sea Domain? No wonder he was beaten back!"

He was nearly mad with rage. It had been bad enough that Wei Zhao escaped disaster yesterday, and now today it happened all over again—would there be no end to this?

But for all his fury, Ren Zhongyuan was powerless—unless he dared risk openly striking at Wei Zhao when he was down. Otherwise he could only wait for the two to settle matters on the platform. As for assassinating the Western Isle's consort within the academy grounds? That, Ren Zhongyuan truly lacked the nerve for.

The sole consolation was that although Wei Zhao had slipped through disaster these two days, the brat had also been badly wounded each time. At least in the matter of suffering, they were now even—so Ren Zhongyuan could only console himself.

The next day, when Wei Zhao once again appeared on the platform, Leng Rufeng could not suppress a crawl of dread along his scalp—the brat had recovered to his peak condition once more!

As on the two days before, this bout too ended with Wei Zhao being thoroughly thrashed. Yet Leng Rufeng still failed to finish Wei Zhao within the span of one stick of incense. Even though he had nursed murderous intent, it availed him nothing—Wei Zhao's speed seemed greater than on the previous two days, and his strength in every respect appeared to have grown.

By contrast, Leng Rufeng himself, after two successive days of attrition, could not help but decline bit by bit. On the second day he still had ninety percent; by the third, not even eighty. And what galled him most was that after being carried off wounded, Wei Zhao would still, eager for more, utter those four words once again: "We continue tomorrow!"

No one had expected matters to unfold this way. Had he not met Wei Zhao, Leng Rufeng would sooner have died than believe that a mere mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator could use him as a sparring partner!

That was right—Wei Zhao had taken him for a peerless sparring partner, rare to encounter; more precisely, he was using him to farm levels like a monster. For these two days Wei Zhao had harbored a powerful premonition: his breakthrough was imminent.

From that day on, the dueling grounds were thronged every single day, and the Cold-Faced Blade God against the Western Isle's consort became a standing attraction. In no time at all, Wei Zhao's name as the Deathless Cockroach spread far and wide; everyone here knew that the Western Isle had a consort who could not be killed, one who left even the Cold-Faced Blade God helpless.

Seven days running, Wei Zhao fought and lost every time. Yet he grew ever fiercer with each battle, his strength rising almost daily at a rate visible to the naked eye. Leng Rufeng, by contrast, found each bout more laborious; in the first days he could still crush Wei Zhao one-sidedly, but by the seventh day, after hammering Wei Zhao to the ground once more, even he was beginning to breathe hard.

The outcome, of course, still favored Leng Rufeng—only he had again failed to kill Wei Zhao, and could only listen in speechless resignation to those four words once more: "We continue tomorrow."

What he had assumed would be a trifling matter within easy reach had somehow become a seven-day war of attrition. The double exhaustion, of body and spirit, made Leng Rufeng feel it was nothing short of a nightmare. Wei Zhao was of course no formidable foe to him—yet in a certain sense, Wei Zhao had indeed proved somewhat thorny.

Especially on the eighth day, when he saw Wei Zhao appear before him once more, Leng Rufeng was struck dumb where he stood. He felt he ought to retract his earlier assessment: the brat was not merely somewhat thorny—he was exceedingly thorny. This was a formidable enemy through and through.

For Leng Rufeng suddenly realized that Wei Zhao, who had been merely mid-stage Nascent Soul yesterday, had today abruptly become peak mid-stage Nascent Soul. The brat had not only recovered his condition—he had actually advanced a level overnight!

Even for a top-tier genius with heaven-granted talent, once one reached a level such as the Nascent Soul stage, any breakthrough was exceedingly difficult; many would enter seclusion for decades on end solely for a single breakthrough!

Yet this time Wei Zhao opened the eyes of Leng Rufeng and all the rest: beaten to a dog's death one day, breaking through and rising a level the next—barely a single night in all. Ordinary folk could scarcely imagine it.

Leng Rufeng, ever cold of speech, today gossiped for the first time in his life: "What medicine did you take?"

"Medicine?" Wei Zhao shrugged and curled his lip. "Fighting you every day is exhausting enough already—where would I find the leisure for medicine? And even if I took it, I'd have no time to digest it. I'd be afraid of indigestion."

Leng Rufeng was left speechless. After seven straight days of dueling Wei Zhao, his own condition had been worn down to less than fifty percent—and that was with recovery pills taken along the way. Without them, his state would have been even more wretched.

Wei Zhao, by contrast, had maintained peak condition throughout, growing stronger day by day, and now had ascended another level to peak mid-stage Nascent Soul. With one side waxing and the other waning, even though Leng Rufeng still held an absolute advantage in strength, he was plainly beginning to find himself outmatched—at least he no longer faced Wei Zhao's Five Elements Killing Qi with the calm composure of the first few days. (To be continued.)