Chapter 4818 — A Sparring Partner
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 3
Wei Zhao instantly felt an incomparably terrifying suction rushing at him head-on, as though it meant to drag him bodily over by main force. This was no mere snatching at a distance. Had he not been on his guard beforehand, with true qi shielding his body, that single move would have burst every meridian and blood vessel inside him; he might well have been reduced to a cloud of blood mist on the spot.
A devil cultivator was a devil cultivator, after all—the first move he made was a technique of such utterly insidious venom!
With a turn of thought, Wei Zhao suddenly abandoned his resistance. His whole body was instantly dragged over, and the Venerable Xishan was overjoyed at the sight. "You lot who style yourselves the righteous sects, always so fond of boasting—all that rot about fighting above your cultivation realm, and it comes to no more than this!"
This move of his was called the Belly-Ripping Claw, and as the name suggested, once his claw landed the result was instant disembowelment. Even a true qi shield was useless, for the shield would be pierced in an instant by the claw tips he had trained specifically for that purpose, and as for the flesh and blood that remained, that need not even be mentioned.
The distance between them closed rapidly, and just as it looked as though the blow would land, Wei Zhao did not try to slow himself at all. Instead he suddenly jetted true qi from his back, going with the current, and his speed abruptly leapt by a whole tier, so that his whole body hurtled at the Venerable Xishan like a cannonball.
The Venerable Xishan was startled at the sight, and by the time he reacted, Wei Zhao was already right before his eyes. Both palms were surging with fire, a blazing crimson, carrying the profound mystery of the yin-yang and eight trigrams, and they came crashing down one after the other.
"Insolent! Reckless whelp who knows nothing of death!" The Venerable Xishan flew into a rage at the sight. A mere late Nascent Soul cultivator daring to do such a thing—plainly he was not taking him seriously at all.
His Belly-Ripping Claw, which could draw a man through the air, did indeed appear riddled with openings to many a capable fighter—just as now, when it was all too easy for a man to turn one's strength against one. It was only a pity that these people all forgot he was a late Mystic Ascension expert. How could a being of his caliber so easily lay himself open?
When an opening is especially glaring, the odds are great that it is a trap laid on purpose. Those fighters who saw this move of his and thought they had found their chance—when they rode the tailwind of that mighty suction to turn strength against strength, the results were all too ghastly to behold. Not one exception.
And now, beneath his Belly-Ripping Claw there was about to be one more dead soul. On the surface the Venerable Xishan put on a show of shock and fury, but in his heart he was nearly splitting with laughter. A simpleton like this had once managed to escape from under the old sect's nose? His dog-shit luck must have defied the heavens!
In the blink of an eye the two had come face to face. The five fingertips of the Venerable Xishan's hand oozed a hideous, chilling black qi, and without dodging or evading he thrust straight at Wei Zhao's raging-fire eight-trigram palms.
To most onlookers, the most fearsome thing about the Belly-Ripping Claw was its mighty, blood-bursting suction, and so long as one could withstand that force, one could deal with it with ease—after all, the claw itself truly had no fearsome power to speak of.
In truth it was precisely the opposite. The suction was mere misdirection; what was truly terrifying about this move was still the Belly-Ripping Claw. The more unassuming a thing appears, the more often it proves fatal.