Chapter Sixteen: Battle, the Shattering of the Frostlight Sword

The qilin celestial beast was just preparing to torment its captured prize when, unexpectedly, a sharp pain shot through its hindquarters and a flash of sword-light appeared before its eyes. The beast was furious—this was already the second time someone had ambushed it. For the sake of its supreme dignity as a qilin, it vowed to incinerate these two sneaky assailants until nothing remained. As the sword-light streaked toward its face, it opened its maw wide and bit down.

Li Chengzhu was overjoyed. The qilin was actually foolish enough to try biting his flying sword. He immediately controlled the sword remotely to activate its internal attack array.

A crisp snapping sound rang out, and a trickle of blood slid from the corner of Li Chengzhu’s mouth. At the same time, golden blood welled from the qilin’s jaws. Li Chengzhu stared in disbelief—the beast had simply bitten his Frostlight Sword in two. As the sword's master, he hadn’t withdrawn his spiritual sense from the weapon in time and suffered some backlash. Fortunately, the attack array had triggered just before the sword broke. Seeing the blood at the qilin’s mouth, Li Chengzhu felt he hadn’t come off too badly. After all, the creature possessed the strength of an immortal; managing to injure it at all was no small feat. Had he not targeted its most vulnerable spot—the mouth—it likely wouldn’t even have been scratched.

Taking advantage of the qilin’s rage, Li Chengzhu darted precariously over its head, landed beside the little creature, scooped it up, and stuffed a Celestial Stone into its mouth, leaping away just as a spiritual energy blast shot toward him.

Escape. All Li Chengzhu could think of now was escape. The fate of the little creature was still uncertain; his only reliable flying sword had been destroyed, and he could already see the two halves of Frostlight rapidly disintegrating under the qilin’s Five Elements Celestial Fire. If he didn’t find a way to flee the beast’s sight, he would surely end up as the sword had. Yet the little creature’s speed was no match for the qilin; if he tried to carry it to safety, he’d be throwing his own life away.

He pulled a failed, discarded flying sword from his ring and set it beneath his feet, channeling his techniques to soar ahead. It was an unrefined, flawed sword, but at least it still had the shape of one. Li Chengzhu couldn’t afford to be choosy—riding it was far faster than flying by his own power.

The terrifying spiritual pressure of the beast followed relentlessly, yet no attacks landed on him. Li Chengzhu couldn’t help but glance back, and nearly toppled from his sword in anger.

That beast was trailing after him at a leisurely pace, clearly not exerting itself. It was obvious the thing intended to toy with him before finishing him off. Li Chengzhu cursed furiously. What kind of celestial beast was this? What had he ever done to deserve such trouble?

He sped onward for more than half a day before finally cursing aloud in frustration. Because of his subpar sword, his spiritual energy was draining rapidly, and now he felt it beginning to run dry. He rummaged through his storage ring and shoved several elixirs into his mouth. Supplies had already run low after recent expenditures, and now, desperate for survival, he no longer cared about hoarding such things. What use were elixirs to a dead man?

He bit down on one, knowing that without meditation much of the spiritual energy would be wasted, but he had no choice. Every bit of energy regained was a chance at life.

Perhaps sensing his growing exhaustion, the qilin began firing spiritual energy blasts. Yet it purposely aimed wide, so each explosion and wave of scorching heat battered Li Chengzhu’s nerves, making him feel as though he’d stumbled onto a battlefield from the Second World War.

Before long, his already tattered garments were shredded beyond recognition, his long hair disheveled, all trace of his former elegance gone. Luckily, the blasts never struck him directly with their Celestial Fire, or he’d have been reduced to ash.

For a full day and night, man and beast engaged in this deadly chase. Any slip in Li Chengzhu’s focus would mean certain death. Wherever they passed, the forest ignited behind them, so that from above, a fiery dragon nearly a hundred miles long could be seen winding through the woods—a spectacular, if terrifying, sight.

The little creature, having revived briefly after swallowing the Celestial Stone, soon fell into another deep sleep. Seeing it unharmed, Li Chengzhu finally relaxed a little; it seemed the blast’s shockwave had merely knocked it out.

Now, his nerves were stretched to their limits. His very life hung in the balance; though exhausted, he dared not relax for a moment.

And yet the accursed qilin still trailed him at its unhurried pace, infuriating Li Chengzhu all the more.

He checked his storage ring: enough elixirs for less than half a day’s flight remained. At this rate, if he wasn't slain by the qilin’s blasts, he’d die of exhaustion. He had to find a way to escape the beast.

Seven Celestial Stones remained, along with a few immortal cores, three pieces of Wood Essence, several broken flying swords, and an immortal-grade bow.

No arrows, though—his only usable sword had been destroyed. For offense, only the immortal bow remained.

Wait—arrows... swords?

His brow furrowed as an idea struck him.

Dodging the shockwave of another blast, Li Chengzhu swiftly pulled a travel bag from his ring, stuffed the little creature inside, fastened it securely, and slung it over his back. He then drew the dark green bow, nocked a flying sword as an arrow, and infused the weapon with all his remaining energy. Turning abruptly, he drew the bow fully, aimed at the pursuing qilin, and shouted, “Go to hell!”

The flying sword, blazing with white-green light, whistled through the air toward the celestial beast. The sheer power startled the qilin, making it falter and collide headlong with the attack.

A thunderous roar of terror erupted from the beast.

Seeing the sword strike home, Li Chengzhu’s heart leapt into his throat. He’d hit it, but would it be enough? Only when the qilin’s panicked howl split the air did he realize—he’d succeeded!

As the light faded, Li Chengzhu saw the result: one of the qilin’s forelegs had been pierced through by the flying sword, golden blood pouring from the wound.

But the consequences were dire. The qilin was now truly enraged.

It snapped the sword in its jaws, wrenched the embedded piece from its leg, and, eyes blazing red, let out a furious roar at Li Chengzhu.

It was over. Without a backward glance, Li Chengzhu sprang forward. An enormous spiritual energy blast exploded where he’d just stood.