Ming soared on the beam of his spirit sword, the world unfurling below like patchwork silk. The wind whipped past him, carrying the scent of distant pine and scorched earth as he charted a straight course back to Shadowmoon Peak. His muscles ached from the marsh ambush, and fresh wounds trickled Qi–infused blood down his arms. His recovery was swift because his Qi reserves were vast.
Distant peaks gleamed ivory in the afternoon sun. The desert plateau below sloped into rolling dunes, a sea of golden sands. Ming pressed his toes against the sword's hilt and ascended higher, eager to leave the blasted marsh and its marauders behind.
Suddenly, ripples of malicious Qi split the sky. Four streaks of jade–green light tore across the blue dome, converging on his position.
Five figures glided in the air, their robes snapping in the wind. Three wore the standard emerald garb of the Emerald Fen Sect's Foundation Establishment Eighth Stage, their Qi roiling like storm clouds. The fifth—was a golden core cultivator, his aura rippling with the solid confidence.
Ming's heart lurched. The sect's attackers—whom he thought driven off—had returned, with a backer. The Golden Core cultivator hovered above the rest, eyes narrowed in grim satisfaction.
The leader's voice echoed across the sky: "A Foundation Establishment first stage dares bullies my juniors. Today, I will finish you."
Ming's jaw set. He drew a slow breath and summoned the last of his Qi to steady his sword.
Suddenly, the leader's hand snapped forward. A shard of concentrated Qi, shining like molten metal, rocketed at Ming like a meteorite.
Ming's eyes flicked open. In a heartbeat, he angled his sword horizontally and unleashed Heaven's Ripple Slash. The golden Qi bullet disintegrated into motes of light, each spark drifting away on the wind.
The three Eighth Stage cultivators flanked him, each launching a pinwheel of emerald Qi blades. They spun in unison, carving the air into serrated currents aimed at his torso, arms, and legs.
Ming's feet pivot on his sword-hilt, wheels of wind slicing through the emerging blades before they could fully materialize. A close-up on his hand as he grips the sword's pommel, Qi surging into his fingertips. He channels a condensed pulse into his left palm—Thousand Waves Palm—sending shockwaves rippling downward and shattering the near blades in midair.
The three cultists stagger but recover quickly, their expressions tightening with contempt.
The Golden Core cultivator descended, his robes billowing like a regal banner. Qi crackled around him as he raised both hands, summoning Sun–Moon Dual Radiance—a blend of solar fire Qi and lunar water Qi that danced around his palms in swirling orbs.
Ming leaned his body forward, sparkles of wind Qi trailing behind as he dashed along the beam of his sword toward the enemy.
The world slowed. Ming's senses sharpened. He could discern the slight quiver in each orb, the faintest oscillation of Qi core intensity. He aimed for the center, where the cultivator's focus lay.
Ming thrust his sword forward, the blade erupting in a violet–tipped wind slash—Celestial Blade Art: Eclipse Edge—and detonated the dome of petals in a brilliant bloom of light and thunderous resonance.
The Golden Core cultivator reeled back, the edges of his robes singed. He glared, mouth curling in a snarl, then vaulted away, his mastery of flight Qi carrying him behind Ming.
Ming's neck pricked. A cold strike rattled his ribs—an Azure Crescent Slash from one of the flankers. The blade's edge carved a shallow gash, Qi fizzing as it cut through flesh and Qi channels. Pain flared, but Ming refused to falter.
He gripped his sword with both hands, pressing it to his left shoulder to staunch the bleeding. His entire being hummed with defiance.
The four formed a crescent formation around him, Qi swirling in counter–clockwise momentum.
Ming exhaled through gritted teeth. In that instant, the world seemed to tilt. The desert winds roared far below as he prepared a gamble that risked every ounce of his Qi.
He thrust his palms outward, unleashing Phoenix–Dragon Cataclysm—a fusion of his Dragon Flame Fist's fire–Qi with his Thousand Winds Barrage's slicing winds. A conflagration of fiery wind Qi ascended like a pillar of living flame toward the attackers.
The four scattered, but the Golden Core cultivator maintained his position. He faced the inferno with a grin. With a powerful exhale, he unleashed Golden Celestial Ward—an overlay of protective Qi that repelled the oncoming inferno in a blinding burst of white–gold light.
Ming's vision wavered but he still forced himself to his feet atop the beam of his sword, grit his teeth, and charged forward.
The Golden Core cultivator met him midair. Blades clashed in a shower of sparks, each strike echoing like distant thunder. Qi met Qi—their auras exploding outward in waves that parted the mist-cloaked sky.
Ming's muscles trembled as he pressed the attack, blade weaving unpredictable arcs—Starfall Slash, Crescent Moon Dance, Shadowless Step flickers. Each technique landed with precision but failed to pierce the cultivator's radiant ward.
The four sect members seized the moment. From the edge of the beam, they all unleashed their ultimate techniques:
- Emerald Serpent Coil: twining Qi ribbons that sought to bind Ming's sword arm.
- Twin Lotus Bloom Barrage: volley of lethal Qi petals.
- Marsh Mist Domain: a cloak of drenching poison–Qi.
- Sun–Moon Eclipse Cannon: a concentrated Qi sphere from the leader's core.
Torrents of Qi converged on Ming from every side. The desert below swirled with dust devils as if anticipating his fall.
His muscles quivering, a flicker of agony across his brow. His aura flared bright, an orange–crimson halo.
He roared and vaulted straight upward, using the recoil of his sword's Qi beam. As he climbed, he channeled every last reserve into a single desperate technique—Solar Phoenix Requiem—a swirling inferno of fire and wind.
The four Qi assaults collided with his Requiem, creating a cataclysmic explosion that lit the sky. A shockwave blasted outward in all directions, razing ragged clouds and sending seismic ripples across the dunes.
Ming's sword beam shattered in midair; he was caught in the blast and sent plummeting.
Ming hurtled from the heavens like a falling star, trailing sparks of dissipating Qi. The desert sands surged up to meet him as he slammed into the ground with bone–shattering force.
He lay buried under a shroud of swirling sand and dust. Pain lanced through every joint, Qi reserves drained to a whisper. His vision cracked with blackness as the world spun.
Before the sect cultivators could descend and claim their prize, a glimmer of steel–blue light ignited in Ming's mind. With agony–choked resolve, he forced his fingers to twitch.
Suddenly, the world around him faded.
System Portal Activated
Dimensional Rift—Ready to Travel
Ming's battered form convulsed once, then twice. He gripped the void of awareness and pulled himself upright.
The desert and the Emerald Fen Sect cultivators dissolved behind a veil of swirling runes. His battered body shimmered into nothingness, leaving only drifting Qi fragments on the scorched sand.
Before the sect cultivators could descend and claim their prize, the Golden Core cultivator sneered, "It seems the rat managed to escape, but it doesn't matter—even without the herb, our plan can still succeed."
Also, if you enjoy my writing and want to support me, consider subscribing to my Patreon: [patreon.com/Writing_when_bored].