Chapter 49: Fierce Battle

Bang!

The two clashed, and the flying dagger’s momentum was checked, its speed greatly reduced.

Cloud Crane, having blocked the blade, did not lower his guard; instead, his expression grew ever more grave. His palm swept out repeatedly, releasing several arcs of white sword energy from above, sealing all of Ye Kai’s possible routes of retreat.

Though he already held Ye Kai’s lightness skill in high regard, he realized now that he had still underestimated its peerless power. Ye Kai’s face retained a carefree, unruly smile. Confronted by the net of sword energy Cloud Crane had woven, he keenly detected the minute gaps between each arc. No matter how infinitesimal these openings were, he managed to twist and turn his body, dodging each blade of energy in turn.

“Such impressive lightness skill,” Cloud Crane said, alighting gracefully upon the ground, his praise sincere. There was no hint of disappointment in his words; this move had been a test from the outset. If Ye Kai could be defeated so easily, then he was nothing but a charlatan.

“Rumor has it Ye Kai’s lightness skill is unmatched beneath the heavens—seeing him today, the truth is clear,” someone remarked from below the stage.

Many nodded in agreement; in terms of lightness skill alone, none present could compare.

“Cloud Crane’s martial arts are not to be underestimated either. We all misjudged him before.”

Though some were reluctant to admit it, the facts before their eyes left no room for doubt.

“What good is high martial skill if one’s heart is wicked? Such a man can only bring chaos to the martial world,” another interjected.

Amidst the crowd’s discussion, Cloud Crane stood with sword in hand, his robes fluttering without wind, snapping sharply in the air. On the surface of his body, true energy flowed like water, slowly rotating. The blade of his sword, infused with powerful inner strength, hummed faintly; a gentle swing left a deep scar upon the ground.

Ye Kai’s eyes hardened, no longer daring to underestimate his opponent. Among martial artists, to be able to project true energy outward was proof of mastery in internal cultivation.

He rotated his palm, channeling vigorous inner power, and several willow-leaf throwing knives floated three inches above his palm, suspended by his true energy. With a sharp motion, both palms thrust forward, and the knives shot out like a squad of soldiers, charging straight ahead—swift beyond belief, almost impossible to evade.

Cloud Crane remained calm, tapping his toe lightly against the ground, gliding backward just above the surface.

His speed was astonishing, yet the flying daggers, like maggots clinging to bone, shadowed his every move and in the blink of an eye were already before his eyes—mere inches from his eyeballs.

Seeing he could not shake them off, Cloud Crane stamped the ground hard, abruptly halting his retreat, and, borrowing the force, soared into the air. With a midair somersault, the daggers grazed his face, the razor-sharp edges scraping his skin with a burning sting.

Before he could catch his breath, the corner of his eye caught a flash—the flying knives, as if possessed of their own will, suddenly veered and continued to pursue him.

Troublesome indeed.

Cloud Crane, suspended in midair, saw in his pupils the cold gleam of the willow-leaf knives, their icy light chilling to the bone.

At the critical moment, he swung his longsword, thrusting it straight at the ground. The blade bent into a perilous arc from the force, and his body sprang upward once more. Using the resultant inertia, the wooden planks of the stage rose like dominoes, layering atop one another to form a shield that blocked the knives’ assault.

Seeing his attack thwarted, Ye Kai seized the opportunity—Cloud Crane, airborne, had nowhere to gain leverage. He launched himself upward, channeling potent palm force toward Cloud Crane’s back.

No matter how high Cloud Crane’s skills, a direct hit from Ye Kai’s palm would surely inflict internal injuries and greatly diminish his strength. In a contest of experts, even the smallest lapse could spell defeat.

“Be careful!” Azalea cried out anxiously from below. Were it not for Hong Qigong restraining her, she would have rushed onto the stage already.

Azalea’s warning was unnecessary; Cloud Crane had long sensed the fierce palm wind behind him. As if accepting his fate, he closed his eyes, resigned to whatever was to come.

“At last, Cloud Crane, scourge of the martial world, will meet his end today!”

“Don’t celebrate too soon—Cloud Crane is nothing if not cunning.”

“Now that he’s at our mercy, I fear he’s plotting some new vile trick.”

Cloud Crane: Slander! Slander, I say!

Ye Kai, too, was on the highest alert; the abnormal always hid some trap. He channeled only thirty percent of his true energy into his palm, keeping the remaining seventy percent ready throughout his body for any unforeseen developments.

This played right into Cloud Crane’s hand. As Ye Kai’s palm was about to strike, Cloud Crane’s tightly shut eyes snapped open.

An unimaginable aura erupted from him, like a slumbering tiger roused from its dreams, jaws gaping wide.

Ye Kai was startled by the force Cloud Crane unleashed, but as a seasoned fighter, he recovered instantly, flooding his palm with nearly seventy percent of his true energy.

“Well met!” Cloud Crane roared, pouring forth a torrent of power that made the ears of all present ring with pain.

“What profound inner strength!”

Amidst the crowd’s exclamations, Cloud Crane forcibly twisted in midair, swinging his palm to meet Ye Kai’s in a direct clash.

Their palms touched lightly.

Buzz!

For an instant, everything seemed to fall silent—then a shockwave of sound burst forth, unimaginable in its intensity.

Those with weaker internal skills clutched their ears in agony, yet it was no use; blood trickled down from their ears.

Hong Qigong’s face remained composed, though his eyes were full of astonishment. Cloud Crane’s martial arts surpassed even his expectations.

“Ugh!”

Beside him, Azalea could not endure the ferocity of the sonic assault, letting out a muffled groan. Hong Qigong, unable to bear her suffering, summoned his true energy and sent it across the air, channeling it into her body. With his aid, Azalea’s pained expression gradually eased.

Only when her breath had steadied completely did Hong Qigong withdraw his hand, sighing inwardly at his own age—new talents in the martial world were sprouting like bamboo after the rain.

After a moment, the sonic waves faded away.

All returned to calm.

The crowd wore expressions of survivors, ignoring their own wounds, their eyes fixed in fear and awe upon the two figures suspended in the air.