Chapter 22: The Fierce Battle with Fu Hongxue (Part Two)

Such a formidable adversary is the finest whetstone on the path to strength.

After their previous bout, Cloud Crane’s mastery of the Complete Sword Technique had already reached the eighth tier. His understanding of the sword ascended to a new level. At this moment, he was like a sword drawn from its sheath, its brilliance unrestrained.

“You have so many wounds—do you not feel any pain at all?” Azalea’s gaze lingered on Cloud Crane, her eyes filled with doubt and curiosity.

Rumors in the martial world claimed Cloud Crane was lecherous to the point of obsession; she had seen enough to believe it. Yet such a shameless libertine ought to fear death above all. Facing Blood Snow, an incarnation of slaughter, he had shown not a hint of fear—instead, he had provoked him. Though his skills were far inferior, he insisted on fighting, possessed by a stubbornness that would not let him fall until his foe was defeated.

Most in the martial world were seekers of fame or scheming villains. Cloud Crane, infamous as he was, acted with utter spontaneity in Azalea’s brief acquaintance with him. The opinions of others mattered not at all. Wasn’t this the very kind of unfettered, carefree life Azalea yearned for? That was why, after Cloud Crane saved her at the inn, she refused to leave his side.

Cloud Crane glanced down at his wounds, then looked at Azalea, a smile curling at his lips. “What’s this? Just now you were eager to see me in hell, and now you’re feeling sorry for me?”

Azalea’s translucent earlobes flushed crimson in an instant. She spat at Cloud Crane. “I’m only afraid you’ll die at someone else’s hand—then I won’t have the chance to tear you apart myself.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Cloud Crane did not expose Azalea’s little pretense. Though his body was covered in cuts, they were superficial wounds that would heal swiftly, so long as his inner energy was abundant.

Seeing Cloud Crane’s steady breath and lack of any sign of serious injury, Azalea pressed no further.

“How is Blood Snow?” Azalea suddenly remembered and asked.

Cloud Crane’s lips quirked in a smile as he gazed toward Blood Snow. “Blood Snow, what do you think of the power of my Complete Sword Technique? Does it meet your standards?”

As he finished speaking, Blood Snow dragged his black iron saber forward, its blade scraping a long mark into the earth. He lifted his head, exposing a pale face, his icy eyes locked onto Cloud Crane. He spoke coldly, syllable by syllable: “Why did you deliberately feign weakness earlier?”

“Your swordsmanship exceeds even the famed Crimson Tip of the Central Plains.”

Azalea’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at Cloud Crane. What did Blood Snow mean? What had happened just now? Why did Blood Snow seem to be wounded far more severely than Cloud Crane?

Cloud Crane regarded Blood Snow. At this moment, Blood Snow’s face was ashen, a sword wound across his chest deep enough to show bone, blood steadily oozing forth.

Azalea stared, her face full of shock. Could it be that Cloud Crane had inflicted that wound on Blood Snow?

The Old Monster of Starfall watched the scene, a flicker of alarm in his eyes. He had thought highly enough of Cloud Crane, but now realized he had gravely underestimated his strength.

Azalea, lacking martial prowess, could only see the surface injuries on Blood Snow. Yet the Old Monster’s eyesight was keen—one glance told him Blood Snow had suffered grave internal wounds. That he could still stand was due only to his extraordinary willpower.

To wound Blood Snow so severely—there were scarcely a handful in the martial world capable of it.

“Thank you for the compliment. I should thank you for testing me; without you, my swordsmanship would not have improved so swiftly.”

Blood Snow’s pupils contracted. Such a martial prodigy truly existed!

Instead of fear, his heart surged with excitement. Facing a master was, besides avenging his father, the thing he most desired.

“I’ll remember you. When I’ve recovered, I will seek you out again.”

With that, Blood Snow dragged his heavily wounded body away.

Cloud Crane’s expression grew somber as he watched Blood Snow’s retreating figure. When Blood Snow was about to disappear at the edge of vision, Cloud Crane suddenly spoke: “Earlier, you were hunting the Masked Phantom who killed your father, weren’t you?”

Blood Snow halted abruptly, spun around, and fixed his gaze on Cloud Crane. For the first time, his usually impassive face showed fierce emotion—his eyes burned with hatred.

He stared at Cloud Crane, slowly tightening his grip on the saber.

Cloud Crane showed not the slightest fear. In Blood Snow’s current state, he posed no threat. Even at his peak, Cloud Crane had not been afraid—why should he be now?

“What are you getting at? I may not be your match, but I can make you pay dearly.”

As Blood Snow spoke, the air around him grew icy, as if plunging the world into a frozen abyss.

“I can tell you the identity of the Masked Phantom.”

“What’s the price?” Blood Snow asked coldly. Cloud Crane had spoken so much; surely he had his own goal.

Seeing Blood Snow’s directness, Cloud Crane no longer concealed his intent, speaking each word with weight: “The Deadly Cross Saber.”

The air thickened at his words.

Blood Snow had not expected Cloud Crane’s appetite to be so great—he demanded his saber technique outright.

“How can I trust your words?”

Avenging his father was Blood Snow’s greatest wish; for it, he would pay any price.

Cloud Crane smiled faintly. He knew Blood Snow could hardly refuse.

He stepped up to Blood Snow and whispered in his ear.

Blood Snow’s eyes widened in shock.

“Do as I say, and you’ll know I speak the truth.”

Blood Snow nodded, stunned; the news struck him deeply, needing time to digest.

Cloud Crane paid him no heed, his gaze fixed on Blood Snow. “It’s time to fulfill your promise.”

Blood Snow withdrew from his scattered thoughts, studied Cloud Crane deeply, then suppressed his surging emotions and returned to his impassive expression.

“I don’t know how you learned all this, but if you dare deceive me, I’ll take the Deadly Cross Saber back from you myself.”

He inhaled deeply and raised the black iron saber.

“In my current state, I can perform the Deadly Cross Saber only once. How much you remember is up to you.”

“That’s enough!”

Blood Snow did not yet begin the technique. His eyes flicked to Azalea and the Old Monster of Starfall lying on the ground.

He had promised to give the Deadly Cross Saber to Cloud Crane—not to them.

Azalea understood and said nothing, lifting the Old Monster of Starfall and vanishing into the depths of the forest.

“Is that sufficient?” Cloud Crane looked at Blood Snow, his eyes glittering coldly.