Chapter 168: Kill Or Be Killed?
Kill Or Be Killed? . . .
The assassins, driven by desperation, utilized every means at their disposal to thwart Song Jue's relentless pursuit. They were acutely aware that the capture of Cha-Eun Xiao would irrevocably alter the course of their mission.
As Song Jue persistently pressed forward, anxiety gnawed at him. His physical condition remained less than optimal, and he found himself on the precipice of frustration. The foes before him, while displaying vulnerabilities, remained elusive, eluding his grasp. With a thunderous voice that reverberated through the night, he issued a commanding directive, "Hurry! Protect the young lord, you lifeless wretches!"
The assassins, parrying Song Jue's onslaught, sneered in response. "Song Yi-Dao, your dreams have been shattered. The one who occupied that chamber was none other than a legendary figure within the assassination realm—Liu Chang-Jun, Brother Liu, renowned as the Instant Killer. By now, Cha-Eun Xiao should already have met his demise."
Song Jue recoiled in disbelief as several lethal strikes found their mark, forcing him to mount a stalwart defense. With a resounding declaration, he swore, "Liu Chang-Jun! I, Song Jue, pledge that if you dare to harm Cha-Eun Xiao, after this night, every member of your clan, regardless of age or gender, will meet their demise, one by one!"
His adversary countered with a scornful laugh. "Hahaha! Such an empty threat, how amusing! Perhaps you should reserve such declarations for a moment when you manage to survive, that is, if survival is within your grasp. Moreover, I shall enlighten you—Liu Chang-Jun has always walked a solitary path. He has no affiliations, no kin, and no obligations. Hahahaha."
Incensed by this revelation, Song Jue intensified his assault, driving the situation to the brink of volatility. Unbeknownst to all, the enigmatic figure known as the Instant Killer, Liu Chang-Jun, hesitated to act within the confines of Cha-Eun Xiao's room.
Moments earlier, Liu Chang-Jun had unleashed his most formidable technique—a devastating sword strike that had pierced through Cha eun Xiao's window. It was a stroke of fatal precision, emblematic of his deadly prowess. The instant he released the attack, he began plotting his escape strategy, confident that Cha-Eun Xiao's life had been extinguished. He reasoned that even if Cha Nan-Tian, a formidable cultivator in his own right, pursued him, he would ultimately elude capture.
However, as Liu Chang-Jun burst into the room with unwavering confidence, his eyes fell upon a seemingly ordinary sight—a set of black cotton quilts adorning the bed.
His initial elation, stemming from the belief that his mission had been accomplished, rapidly transformed into confusion.
Cha Eun Xiao, recognizing the formidable nature of the impending threat, understood that direct confrontation was an untenable option. He was acutely aware that the sword's azure radiance denoted a cultivator of considerable power, likely hovering at the mid-levels of the Grade of Tianyuan. Although Cha Eun Xiao had recently made significant strides in his cultivation, he remained cognizant of his inferiority in the face of such a formidable adversary.
In the absence of a direct confrontation, he resorted to cunning tactics. Swiftly, he vacated the bed, flinging the black cotton quilts aside. These seemingly innocuous bedclothes took on a life of their own, whirling through the air like a shadowy tempest before coalescing into an impenetrable barricade.
Concealed behind this makeshift defense, Cha-Eun Xiao awaited his adversary's next move.
The entire sequence of events unfolded with a surreal fluidity, transforming Cha-Eun Xiao's perception of his own body. He felt an ethereal lightness, akin to a feather drifting through the breeze. In fact, he surpassed the lightness of a swallow and transcended the weightlessness of fog. Every move, every action, occurred with effortless grace, as if he were capable of far more than merely evading his adversary's assault.
Simultaneously, the dormant energies within him surged to life, a burgeoning torrent threatening to burst forth. Cha-Eun Xiao sensed an impending explosion if he failed to release this pent-up force promptly. With an almost casual swiftness, he struck out with his palm.
Liu Chang-Jun's sword attack missed its mark, rending the quilts asunder as cottons filled the air. To his astonishment, he found himself faced with an empty room, while a ghostly pale palm loomed perilously close to his visage.
The subsequent counterattack was swift, yet Liu Chang-Jun harbored reservations. He discerned that the assailant possessed strength beneath that of the Grade of Tianyuan, evident from the subpar blue hue surrounding the incoming attack. This observation fueled his overconfidence, leading him to sneer dismissively, "He was over-confident."
In response, he launched a fierce counterattack, delivering a full-force punch. He anticipated effortlessly shattering the incoming palm, a feat he considered well within his capabilities.
However, reality veered from Liu Chang-Jun's expectations, challenging the very laws of nature. Cha-Eun Xiao emerged from the clash unscathed, his palm unharmed and his stance unwavering. A brief flush of purple raced across his features, only to dissipate moments later, leaving him unfazed. He remained rooted in place, not yielding an inch.
Yet, a profound revelation gripped Liu Chang-Jun—an inexplicable and unparalleled gelid qi had infiltrated his body through the point of impact. It was a chilling energy, possessing the potential to freeze the entire world. Struggling to comprehend the inexplicable, Liu Chang-Jun found his body immobilized, his fist ensconced in a layer of hoarfrost, and half of his form bereft of mobility. It was as if the very essence of this strange gelid qi had damaged his meridians and vitality.
Panic was an emotion Liu Chang-Jun eschewed. He inhaled deeply, channeling his cultivation prowess with fervor. His arms radiated an intense azure glow, swiftly eradicating the invasive gelid qi and returning mobility to his once-frozen limb. Beads of cold sweat collected on his brow as he grappled with a deeply unsettling realization: his opponent was no ordinary cultivator.
He cast an incredulous gaze upon Cha-Eun Xiao. "What manner of martial art is this? Who are you?" A sudden epiphany coursed through Liu Chang-Jun. The enigmatic figure before him wielded formidable cultivation prowess, surpassing his own capabilities. It dawned on him that he may have unwittingly encountered a combatant of superior strength.
Cha-Eun Xiao, unfazed by the unfolding events, wore a sardonic smile. "Are you here to end my life or to provide me with amusement? You seek my death, yet you pose such trivial questions." His demeanor remained poised, betraying no trace of trepidation.
Liu Chang-Jun's exclamation of "You are Cha-Eun Xiao?" reverberated through the room, laden with disbelief and an undertone of fear that coursed through him. The revelation had struck him like a lightning bolt, an unexpected twist in the unfolding narrative.
In response, Cha-Eun Xiao couldn't help but chuckle softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "You certainly possess a keen intellect. I must commend you for that."
Liu Chang-Jun found himself grappling with a maelstrom of emotions—bewilderment, confusion, and a gnawing sense of being hoodwinked. He had been briefed extensively on Cha-Eun Xiao's predicament, informed that the young man was at death's door, utterly feeble and on the brink of oblivion.
Yet, here stood Cha-Eun Xiao, brimming with vitality and exuding an aura of strength that belied his purported weakness. It was a revelation that left Liu Chang-Jun utterly perplexed. He couldn't help but think, [Am I ensnared in a trap? Is this an elaborate ruse? As an assassin, have I ventured here merely to meet my own end?]
With two resounding claps of his hands—Pah. Pah—Cha-Eun Xiao's limbs underwent a transformation. One hand shimmered with a resplendent golden hue, while the other emanated an icy purity. They had become a golden hand and a gelid hand.
The palm strike he had executed earlier had imbued him with newfound confidence. It was a display of strength that had shattered his previous limitations, hinting at the unprecedented growth in his cultivation.
As he observed the spectacle of his dual-colored hands, Cha-Eun Xiao marveled at the profound shift within him. He had been poised at the fourth level of the Grade of Diyuan, yet now found himself steadfastly situated at the eighth level. The sudden and inexplicable advancement left him astounded.
[I must attribute this transformation to the enlightenment I received earlier—an understanding of love that unlocked the gateway to the natural law, granting me an astonishing leap in my cultivation.]
Amid his contemplation, Cha-Eun Xiao's hands danced with finesse and precision. His golden hand radiated a luminous brilliance, while the gelid hand exuded a bone-chilling coldness. His countenance remained cool and composed, a sardonic smile gracing his lips as he fixed his gaze upon the masked assassin.
In a fluid motion, his feet performed the renowned One Laughter in Skyline, a move synonymous with the Xiao Monarch's mastery. Three distinct martial arts converged in a symphony of strikes. Liu Chang-Jun, beset by a relentless barrage, struggled to maintain his defenses. His world narrowed to a relentless focus on fending off the rapid onslaught, leaving no room for speech or observations beyond the immediate danger.
Exasperation welled within Liu Chang-Jun's thoughts as he grappled with this unexpected predicament. He cursed silently, unable to fathom the enormity of the deception that had unfolded before him.
[Is this the 'useless, foolish foppish young lad' my employer had described? The one 'hanging by a thread,' on the verge of death? Is this truly Cha Nan-Tian's purportedly feeble son?
Who authorized such a misleading bounty? This is nothing short of deceitful!
This mission is bound to have dire consequences for me!]
The internal torrent of curses intensified within Liu Chang-Jun's mind, accompanied by an overwhelming urge to weep. His target, whom he had anticipated to be a frail and ailing individual, had proven to be quite the opposite—an imposing, robust figure with formidable cultivation expertise.
[So, this is the 'dying man' they spoke of?
HE IS, IN FACT, STRONGER THAN I AM!!!
And he seems to wield more experience than I do...]
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