Chapter Forty-Four: Peril Unfolds

A dozen evil cultivators surged forward together. In that instant, blades flashed like ink spilled upon the page, descending without a whisper of wind. Their movements were eerie, the attacks at once fierce killing strikes and a death sentence spreading on paper. Three steel blades formed a triangle, closing in from the left, right, and above. Before the blades even reached him, the sinister aura stung Lu Chenyuan’s skin with a faint pain.

Lu Chenyuan’s gaze sharpened at the sight, but he felt no panic. Ten years wandering the world, battered and seasoned, had taught him well: the greater the peril, the more one must stay calm and steady, never letting chaos disrupt his resolve.

Eyes watch all directions, ears heed every sound! With the barely perceptible rush of cloth at his ear and the shadows cast by the three differing blade trajectories sensed within, he quickly sketched in his mind a fleeting path to survival.

Suddenly, he arched his body backward, his spine nearly parallel to the ground, slipping just beneath the blades slashing from both sides. The icy edge of the knives grazed his nose, slicing off a stray lock of hair from his brow.

Yet the danger was not past; behind him, two more evil cultivators closed in silently, blades crossing to cut at his waist and abdomen. In that prone position, his old strength had faded, and new strength not yet risen—he was about to be cut in half.

But in that desperate moment, he planted both hands firmly on the ground! This push was not to rise, but to harness the force, letting his supine body drift sideways like a falling leaf, sliding three inches—just enough to let the crossing blades narrowly miss him.

A sharp clang rang out as the two blades struck each other, sparks flying. Lu Chenyuan seized the opening, flipping upright like a carp leaping from water. Before his feet had settled, he moved like a butterfly weaving through flowers, taking seven steps amidst the siege of evil cultivators.

Each step landed precisely in the gap between their attacks; sometimes sidestepping, sometimes crouching low, sometimes twisting his waist. His movements carried no elegance, only the ruthless practicality honed at the edge of life and death.

When he finally stood firm, he had passed through the most perilous encirclement unscathed.

Wei Zhuo, half his body now as fragile as paper, could not help but utter a soft sound of surprise. He had not expected Lu Chenyuan, a mere mortal, to possess such extraordinary skill, showing the poise of a martial master with decades of training. Truly, the embryo of Dao Yuan—remarkable indeed…

As Wei Zhuo marveled, Lu Chenyuan had already turned his head and called out loudly to Shangguan Chuci, who was fiercely battling three true evil cultivators:

“Shangguan, don’t worry about me! Though I have no cultivation, when it comes to escaping death, I’m quite confident in my abilities!”

“Excellent! Brother Lu, your skill is truly remarkable!” Shangguan Chuci, though engaged against three opponents, had always kept a thread of her mind on Lu Chenyuan, fearing for his safety. Now, seeing him slip through the ink-shadowed storm with eel-like agility, risking his life yet always finding a sliver of hope, she was both awed and relieved.

With a sharp cry, she darted forward like a startled swan. Her three-foot sword flicked and whirled, weaving a cluster of sword shadows. Ignoring feints, she targeted the one whose aura was most concentrated—a true evil cultivator—and thrust her blade.

Her strike aimed for his back—a blind spot in his vision. Victory seemed assured.

But unexpectedly, the evil cultivator reacted as if he had eyes behind him, swinging his blade backward without turning his head! The sinister blade cleaved through the air, sealing off every variation of her attack.

A crisp clang rang out, blades clashing and sparks flying. Shangguan Chuci felt her palm tremble and retreated swiftly, shocked beyond measure.

“How can this be? How did he anticipate my move?”

After the failed strike, she immediately shifted tactics, no longer forcing the attack. Instead, she moved with fluid steps through the storm of blades and sword shadows, her side glance taking in the actions of all combatants.

She tapped lightly on the shoulder of a shadowy ink figure, borrowing momentum to soar into the air. There, she fixed her gaze on another true evil cultivator a yard away, her sword tip aimed at his ankle.

At the same time, her wrist flicked, sending a silent surge of sword energy from her sleeve toward the face of an evil cultivator before her.

This move—a feint east, strike west, two minds in concert—was executed with uncanny skill.

Yet, something stranger unfolded. The evil cultivator before her ignored the sword energy aimed at his face, instead raising his blade to defend his own ankle, as if guarding against an invisible enemy. Meanwhile, a yard away, the cultivator she had locked onto with her sword energy also raised his blade to shield his face!

Their reactions were as if their bodies had been swapped.

Seeing this, Shangguan Chuci finally understood:

“So that’s it! They are not fighting separately, but one leads the attack, and all serve as his eyes and hands! This Wei Zhuo’s art of the painted path connects the minds of a dozen in one!”

Taking a deep breath, her sword moves changed abruptly. No longer searching for weak points in individuals, her blade flared, transforming into a shower of starlight, enveloping three evil cultivators at once.

If they are one, I will break them all together!

The three evil cultivators, caught off guard by her shift in tactics, froze for a moment.

Two soft sounds echoed as two ink-shadow figures were pierced by sword energy, bursting instantly into splatters of ink.

A chill swept over Shangguan Chuci’s face—though her flesh was unscathed, her mind grew hazy.

The clangor of blades and swords suddenly morphed, in an instant, into the familiar melody that played nightly at seven o’clock.

Then, deep within her mind, a voice tinged with both reproach and laughter sounded:

“Chuchu, I’ll count to three. If you don’t get up from that broken computer, you won’t have any cola chicken wings tonight!”

Her heart clenched, nearly bringing her to tears.

In that distracted moment, the third true evil cultivator grinned savagely and charged.

Shangguan Chuci startled, snapping back to focus, hurriedly parrying.

Yet, he ignored the sword aimed at his chest, disregarding his own life, and brought his steel blade down upon her head in a suicidal attack!

“This is bad! He’s fighting me to the death!”

Her wrist sank, sword spinning to block the fatal strike. But her left shoulder was grazed by the fierce blade, her garment torn open to reveal a deep, bone-showing wound. Blood instantly stained her pale silk robe.

She stifled a groan, retreating swiftly, her face drained of color.