Chapter 4543 — A Chase and a Flight
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 3
"With me here, what the hell do you need marsh mud for!" the Ghost Thing snapped. Never mind the Old Sect of the Western Hills' smug posturing—at his peak, before this former Azure Dragon, the man was nothing but a third-rate piece of trash not worth mentioning. Even reduced to his present sorry state, blocking that man's divine-sense lock was child's play for him.
"Er..." Only then did Wei Zhao recall that the Ghost Thing was a grandmaster of the primordial spirit. In the use of divine sense he was at least ten streets ahead of the Old Sect of the Western Hills. Then he smiled bitterly. "If you knew that all along, why didn't you step in last time? I thought I was done for more than once."
"Last time that thing wasn't going straight for the kill. Why would I risk making a move?" The Ghost Thing curled his lip dismissively. "Remember this, kid—every time I act, there's one more chance for someone to spot a flaw in me. And once anyone learns I'm holed up in you, then neither of us will ever have a peaceful day again."
"Noted." Wei Zhao nodded gravely. He said no more, and urged the spirit bird on at full speed toward the Five Venoms Marsh.
Meanwhile, the Old Sect of the Western Hills, shrouded in his black mist, gave a savage laugh and, out of habit, tried to descend upon Wei Zhao's head—only to find, a moment later, that not a damn thing had moved. He was still hovering exactly where he had been.
"Hm?" The Old Sect of the Western Hills knitted his dark brows and instinctively moved to confirm Wei Zhao's position again. Then his expression changed drastically: Wei Zhao had simply vanished from his divine-sense perception. And that was not all—the spirit bird had vanished with him. What in the hell kind of ghost story was this?
On a fine day like this, not so much as a blade of grass within five li—no, within a hundred li—should have been able to escape the Old Sect of the Western Hills' divine-sense lock. Yet for some reason, the auras of Wei Zhao and the spirit bird had genuinely, utterly disappeared.
It was an eerie, uncanny sensation, as though some exquisite technique had wiped them clean out of existence. Even the Old Sect of the Western Hills admitted himself utterly incapable of such a feat. It was simply beyond belief.
"Waaah-yah-yah-yah! Ling Yi, you little wretch, don't you think you can escape this way—this Patriarch is going to kill you today if it's the last thing I do!" The Old Sect of the Western Hills was hopping mad with rage. Yet he swiftly calmed himself, focused his gaze, and peered into the distance. Then a surge of incomparably mighty true qi erupted from the black mist, and his whole body shot off like an arrow in hot pursuit of Wei Zhao's flight path.
He was, after all, a towering figure of the Mountain-Opening stage, a mighty devil-cultivator; when the Old Sect of the Western Hills truly cut loose, his speed was nothing short of astonishing—especially now, burning true qi without regard for cost. His flying speed was a good notch faster even than the spirit bird's!
Watching that black speck behind him draw ever nearer, Wei Zhao—who had just breathed a sigh of relief—was once more face to face with a mortal foe. He had already rated the Old Sect of the Western Hills' strength highly, but he had never imagined the man could still catch up like this, flying faster than the spirit bird itself. Was this thing even human?
Faster, a little faster. All of Wei Zhao's hopes for survival now rested on the spirit bird. The Ghost Thing had already made it impossible for their foe to descend on them at will; if even so he could not escape, then it could only be that fate willed it so.