Dragon Canon

Two torrents of flying swords greeted Zhao Fusheng. with a furious roar, he swung his giant axe and sent an invisible surge of astral si surging upward, shattering countless flying swords in its path. The astral qi did not dissipate until it was almost upon the attacker.

However, the flying swords came in unending torrents. After unleashing several axe strikes, Zhao Fucheng grew impatient and summoned a golden protective light. He then bore the torrents of flying swords and charged headlong forward. These attacks were akin to mosquito bites to him and did little more than drain a small amount of his mystic energy. At best, they slowed him down and had no other effect.

It was at this moment another deafening boom rang out, and a massive bullet hurtled toward him. The tremendous impact sent Zhao Fusheng reeling back several chi, and the golden light shielding him visibly dimmed.

Enraged, Zhao Fusheng charged at full speed, only to be driven back again by yet another gunshot.

Blown back by the devastating gunshots and caught between the two torrents of flying swords, Zhao Fusheng’s golden protective light flickered erratically. Every time he managed to advance three steps, he would be forced to retreat one step. For a time, he found it surprisingly difficult to make progress.

Wei Yuan had no time to reload. He fired shot after shot without pause, disrupting Zhao Fusheng’s momentum while simultaneously draining his energy reserves. At the same time, his two Dragon Guards were also suppressing the man with the rotary flying-sword cannons. Although the torrents of flying swords could not pierce the golden protective shield, they did cause the light to flicker and steadily depleted Zhao Fusheng’s mystic energy.

Just then, a team of researchers in the Great Realm submitted their latest analysis based on the battle situation:

Assuming that the creation of one flying sword consumed one unit of Dao energy, Zhao Fusheng had to expend one and a half units of mystic energy to defend against it. Therefore, attacking was more advantageous than defending as it offered a better balance in terms of mystic energy expenditure. In conclusion, Wei Yuan should continue the fierce assault without regard for ammunition consumption.

The analysis invigorated Wei Yuan, but when he reached out to grab a new gun, he discovered that he had emptied the dozen or so guns he had loaded earlier. With no time to reload, Wei Yuan immediately drew the Immaculate Pure Land and resumed his shooting. He swapped ammo box after ammo box with lightning speed and fired so fast it almost achieved the same effect of a rotary cannon.

Although the Immaculate Pure Land was far less powerful per shot than a gun using powder sticks, its rate of fire was far superior and could deplete the opponent’s mystic energy even more.

Despite being caught in a devastating three-way crossfire, Zhao Fusheng was still able to brave the hail of flying swords and press forward step by step. So, Wei Yuan activated his hidden card.

Alarm bells suddenly rang inside Zhao Fusheng’s head as a nigh imperceptible trace of killing intent appeared to his side and behind him. Another ambush? This opponent had genuinely made him feel threatened. In terms of perceived threat level, they were only slightly lower than Mahamayuri!

Zhao Fusheng halted and turned, eyes flashing like lightning as his vast perception swept like a storm over the source of the killing intent. However, he detected nothing.

In that split second, the ground beneath him suddenly exploded. The massive shockwave was accompanied by countless flying swords. Wei Yuan had buried a total of four FDFSBs in this area, and together they unleashed an immense amount of firepower to say the least!

Zhao Fusheng let out a thunderous roar, and the scroll painting above his head reappeared, revealing a strange beast that was shaped like a crocodile but with an extraordinarily large belly. His mystic body abruptly became incredibly heavy, and not even four flying-sword mines were able to blast him away!

But immediately afterward, Zhao Fusheng realized his mistake. The simultaneous barrages of countless flying swords ultimately overwhelmed his golden protective light, followed by his mystic robe and inner armor!

After the roar subsided, Zhao Fusheng’s robes and inner armor were in tatters. Both of his thighs were fully exposed, and patches of his leg hair were singed black. Only half of his two mystic boots remained, and all ten of his toes were exposed as well.

To Zhao Fusheng’s credit, his mystic body was truly formidable. Despite such a ferocious assault, he had only sustained a few tiny blood spots—so tiny they were barely more severe than a mosquito bite. That said, a mosquito capable of piercing his skin and drawing blood would have to be a once-in-a-millennium prodigy among the mosquito race.

He’s got quite a bit of leg hair. Oh, there’s a spot that didn’t burn off completely... Wei Yuan thought to himself as he slapped on a new magazine[1], stood up, and resumed firing.

But this time, Zhao Fusheng was truly furious. A hazy golden glow appeared on his giant axe, and he suddenly swung it down, sending a surge of astral qi straight toward the cultivators on the rocky hill.

The axe blast was a full 1,000 zhang long, plowing a deep gully into the ground as it rolled forward. It obliterated every flying sword in its path before finally crushing the hilltop!

After the attack, the aura of the scholarly Dragon Guard atop the rocky hill instantly plummeted. His front torso was a bloody mess, nearly completely sliced open. The rotary cannon was also destroyed by the astral qi, dissipating into Dao energy. Wei Yuan had no choice but to recall the scholarly Dragon Guard; otherwise, if it were truly slain in the outside world, he would suffer a massive injury and might even drop a cultivation level[2].

After delivering the earth-shattering blow, Zhao Fusheng was forced to pause to catch his breath for a bit. Then, he swung his axe once more at the warrior Dragon Guard to his left and seriously injured it as well. Wei Yuan also recalled him.

Despite this, Wei Yuan never stopped dishing out damage. During the short period,he had gone through a dozen or so magazines and depleted Zhao Fusheng of at least 100 Dao Foundation-stage cultivators’ worth of mystic energy.

At this point, Zhao Fusheng’s mystic energy was less than 40% of its peak, but he remained undaunted as he unleashed a third axe strike at Wei Yuan!

Wei Yuan immediately retreated into the fortifications. A roaring gale of astral wind crashed through the structures, shattering them and tearing Wei Yuan’s protective mystic energy. It ripped through the inner armor beneath his robes and finally struck his physical body—where it was blocked.

As soon as the gale passed, Wei Yuan jumped to his feet and emptied his magazine.

The dozens of flying swords struck Zhao Fusheng out of nowhere, sending him reeling. When he looked down, he saw that seven tiny bloodstains had appeared on his body. This was a sign that his protective mystic energy was no longer sufficient to shield him perfectly. His mystic body was finally starting to take damage.

Zhao Fusheng hadn’t expected his opponent to be able to take a direct hit from his axe and walk away as if nothing had happened. He let out another long, dragon-like roar, and a massive dragon’s head emerged from the scroll painting, fixing its gaze on Wei Yuan.

Wei Yuan leaped into the air and vanished in an instant.

The dragon’s head was taken aback. It hadn’t expected Wei Yuan to flee so decisively and unhesitatingly. Moreover, it could not lock onto Wei Yuan, so the stream of pure white dragon breath it was preparing to unleash became stuck in its throat. It began coughing violently, spewing flames in all directions. Wherever they landed, they burned everything to ashes.

Because the fatal strike that had been about to be unleashed was cut short, Zhao Fusheng, too, couldn’t help but cough violently. He bent double and even coughed up blood.

It took him quite a while to recover from the coughing fit. Only then did he realize that he hadn’t even gotten a clear look at the bastard’s face.

Fortunately, he had already slain two of the three opponents. Letting the last one—the weakest of the lot—escape wasn’t a big deal. Besides, that guy wasn’t even an Avatar... Wait a second. He’s not an Avatar?

Zhao Fusheng was puzzled. How had the guy gotten in if he wasn’t an Avatar? And how had he withstood his fatal strike? Could it be that the man was also the descendant of an immortal, and the most favored one at that?

After a moment’s thought, Zhao Fusheng concluded that this must be the answer.

He didn’t bother dwelling on it further and strode toward the rocky hill. Although the petty ambushers were all either dead or injured, the Shadowless Flying Ferret was still alive. Zhao Fusheng’s axe strike seemed to possess boundless power, but in reality, he had controlled it with perfect precision, not harming the ferret in the slightest.

If he had successfully slain Mahamayuri, then the Shadowless Flying Ferret would naturally be useless. But since the monk had fled, the ferret had become useful again. At the very least, with the ferret in his possession, he might be able to lure the monk out and kill him. It was that or let him claim victory and carry the beauty back to his island.

Zhao Fusheng strode up to the hilltop, reached down to pick up the net lying on the ground, ripped it to shreds in one swift motion, and pulled the ferret out of it. The moment he took a glance, he let out a shocked, enraged roar that shook the heavens and the earth:

“A fake?!”

After all that commotion, with so many cultivators fighting tooth and nail to claim their prize, and even he, Zhao Fusheng, was covered in dust and looking bedraggled—the prize turned out to be a fake???

Just as his rage was reaching its peak, an explosion erupted beneath Zhao Fusheng’s feet. Those damned bastards had actually set up a trap beneath the fake ferret as well, and it consisted of not one, not three, but nine flying-sword mines in total!

As the smoke cleared, Zhao Fusheng emerged with an ashen face. Though his injuries were minor, he felt his intelligence had been severely insulted.

Before entering the secret realm, everyone had confirmed the Shadowless Flying Ferret’s aura. Normally, it should’ve been impossible for them to make an elementary mistake like this. The fact they had still fallen could only mean that its aura was genuine.

But where did those bastards obtain the aura of the true ferret? Zhao Fusheng could not be bothered to figure out the answer. Everything would naturally fall into place once he got his hands on the bastard who had escaped.

He crushed the fake ferret in his hand and was just about to give chase when suddenly, he heard a voice call out to him from behind, “Dao Friend, please wait a moment!”

Zhao Fusheng slowly turned around and saw that Mahamayuri had returned. However, the monk was looking at him strangely.

Zhao Fusheng followed his gaze and looked down. Only then he realized that his clothes had nearly been completely destroyed. Thanks to the baptism of flying swords, forget his clothes, he barely had any hair left on his body. But his mystic body was formidable, and he was almost unharmed. One might say that he was as smooth and lustrous and clean as a jade right now.

Blood rushed to Zhao Fusheng’s face in an instant. Covering his private part with one hand, his roar of fury echoed throughout the secret realm. “Bald donkey, prepare to die!!!”

1. By the way, I’m calling it a magazine here because it’s kinda like a drum magazine but well, way fucking bigger. And rectangular, if I remember correctly? Anyway, I have, as per the author’s writing, described it as a “flying sword box” before so this is just a reminder. ☜

2. I’m actually not sure if this is referring to Wei Yuan himself or the Dragon Guard, but for now I’m assuming Wei Yuan is talking about himself. ☜