The black-clad elder stared at the violet-silver gleam with a scalp-numbing dread. Inhaling deeply, he surged azure battle energy into his hands and struck ferociously toward Gu Qingli.
It had been a long time since he had felt such stark terror—this young girl's technique was unlike anything he had ever encountered.
Within Gu Qingli's body, both the Phoenix Flame Art and her battle energy whirled simultaneously. Her entire frame burst forth in a brilliant teal radiance as she hurled herself headlong into the incoming strike.
A muffled boom echoed through the clearing. Both figures were flung backward. The elder landed with a grunt, injured yet still capable of standing.
Gu Qingli staggered as she hit the ground, her chest heaving with surging blood and qi. She inwardly cursed He Zhongyi and Sikong Ran for recklessly charging in with no strength to back them up.
But soon, a smile curved her lips. She had crashed into the elder not out of desperation, but as a calculated feint—to distract him. One well-placed needle was all it would take to turn the tide.
To her, notions of honor or disgrace were meaningless. Victory was all that mattered—and if toppling this despicable old man took poison and trickery, so be it.
Several silver needles now jutted from the elder's body—just as she had anticipated.
Those slender darts were laced with "Purple Daze," a paralyzing toxin. Though the elder sensed something amiss and attempted to expel it with his battle energy, the numbing effect spread swiftly, locking his limbs with unnatural rigidity.
Gu Qingli had known she couldn't defeat him through strength alone. She came prepared.
"You vile little brat! Using poison—shameless! I swear I'll kill you for this humiliation!"
The elder's face twisted into a snarl of madness. He could scarcely believe he'd been undone by a mere slip of a girl.
"A mere King-Rank warrior, and you still think you can fight after tasting my Purple Daze? Keep dreaming."
Gu Qingli gave a slight smirk, satisfaction glinting in her eyes.
At the same moment, her fingers swept across the grass, retrieving the silver needles scattered in the underbrush. A glance confirmed they had all snapped—further proof of the elder's formidable physique.
She frowned slightly—this plan had skirted recklessness. Had the poison failed, the outcome might have been far grimmer.
The elder lay crumpled on the ground, his battle energy rendered inert. Rage contorted his features as he stared at her with bulging eyes, consumed by helpless hatred.
"You treacherous girl! Have you no shame? Do you not fear the world's scorn?"
By now, the elder had completely forgotten He Zhongyi—Gu Qingli had become his sole obsession, the thorn in his flesh, the bane of his pride.
"Funny," Gu Qingli said coolly. "You lured us here with murderous intent, tried to steal what wasn't yours, and preyed on those weaker than you. Who's the real disgrace here? Compared to you, poisoning an old scoundrel hardly feels wrong."
Her words, sharp and merciless, nearly made the old man cough up blood. He glared daggers at her, trembling with fury.
He Zhongyi had feared for her safety, heart lodged in his throat, convinced she'd suffer a grievous blow.
Yet to his shock, the girl had wielded hidden weapons and poison—despised tools in this land, yes, but necessary. As Gu Qingli said, the elder was the true villain here. Without her cunning, they would all be dead by now.
"Give me the antidote! Or I'll never let you go!"
Though paralyzed, the elder still spat threats with desperate bravado.
Gu Qingli raised an eyebrow. "Are you daft, old man? Why would I possibly give you the antidote?"
She took a vial of golden wound medicine from her robes, swallowed one pill, then handed two more to He Zhongyi without a word.
This was one of her essential remedies from her previous life—used to relieve bruises and restore circulation. Unlike the alchemists' concoctions of this world, it was simple, effective, and reliable.
She ignored He Zhongyi's awkward expression and turned instead toward the nearly unconscious Sikong Ran, lying amidst the grass.
Though grievously wounded, Sikong Ran remained conscious, his spirit unwavering. He had witnessed everything—and within his battered heart, awe bloomed.
This girl, Gu Qingli, had single-handedly defeated a King-Rank warrior.