Chapter 208 — Section 210: Firecrow, Winter's Chill [First Update]

Ling Yan's action caught everyone by surprise.

The entire battlefield was thrown into disarray by what Ling Yan had just done. The Stone-Sand Beast King let out a furious roar and lunged for Ling Yan, but Xie Qing grasped his intent at once—his long sword sang out, its light surging wildly, and he tangled the Beast King fast.

A thunderous blast tore through the field in an instant, the shockwave several times stronger than before, sweeping across like a storm.

The surrounding stone-sand beasts, caught in the fringe of that wave, might as well have been struck by a great hammer; they collapsed, shriveled, and swiftly dissolved into pools of mud and sand.

Ling Yan was like a blade of interwoven red and silver, slicing through tofu.

The firebird, sprinting at full power, was a wild inferno of raging wind—and Ling Yan upon its back was the cold, keen edge of the blade within that flame.

Those hulking stone-sand beasts were, before them, as frail as paper.

A streak of red and silver, straight and sharp as a knife!

Then, through his violently shaking field of vision, several figures emerged—and his pupils contracted sharply.

Found you!

There on the ten-meter cliff sat the old man in the wheelchair, his eye sockets hollow, a mocking smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Firebird, go!"

Ling Yan's roar echoed in the wind.

A gleam of light kindled in the firebird's eye; its speed, already swift as the wind, surged once more, and Ling Yan on its back saw the rushing landscape blur into indistinct lines.

The wind against his face abruptly turned oppressive, suffocating. The shrieking at his ears rumbled like thunder—he could hear nothing else.

Yet Ling Yan felt no fear at all; instead his blood surged, his will to fight blazing to the point of combustion!

He could tell that his opponent was stronger than he was—considerably stronger, perhaps.

The man's aura was like a fathomless cold pool, deep and icy, and for the first time Ling Yan felt he had nowhere to strike. Years of wandering, of scraping and scrambling, had honed Ling Yan's judgment to a merciless keenness and his experience was consummately seasoned. He knew precisely who could be provoked and who could not. He was hot-tempered, but he would never cross an opponent he could not afford to cross—that was how he had survived to this day.

The blind old man before him was absolutely not someone to provoke; in the old days, he would have turned and walked away without hesitation.

And yet a surging, raging will to fight filled his heart.

Yes. You are no match for him.

But…

Ling Yan, are you afraid?

Do you flinch?

Do you cower and hold back?

Does the spear in your hands tremble?

Does the resolve in your heart still hold that hard?

Do your ideals still shine with glory?

The roaring torrent of air at his ears was like the voice of thunder, sealing off everything outside—yet it made the voice within him all the clearer.

As if sensing Ling Yan's will, the firebird beneath him let out a sudden sharp cry, a blade-keen note piercing the clouds, so resolute it made the heart quiver!

Firebird, are you too longing to charge?

Firebird, are you too longing to fight?

Firebird, are you too forever brave and fearless?

The violently quaking vision brought on by their breakneck speed was a blur—yet a carefree smile broke across Ling Yan's face. A smile like sunlight, like fierce flame; the youth wild and bold, the youth iron-hard in resolve.

Borrowing their momentum, the firebird drove its gaunt, hard talons wide open and rammed them deep into the earth; its crimson figure shot up from the ground like a reckless blaze of fury, carrying the silver-haired youth in a fearless lunge at the old man in the wheelchair on the cliff.

Silver hair whipping wild, spear thrusting like a dragon, a shrill cry piercing the sky!

The silver floodlight of heaven and earth condensed to a single incandescent, blinding point, arriving in a flash.

Heaven and earth dimmed, and only those orange pupils remained clear.

That spear was called

—The Spear of Righteous Heart!

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Tang Tang paid no attention to the battlefield; his focus was entirely on the two men before him. He could hear Little Xu Xu's roar, but his mind did not wander for an instant.

Tang Tang in battle was the most terrifying thing of all.

Like a seasoned hunter, he fixed his gaze on the prey before him, his mind racing, searching for an opening.

The two enemies were no weaklings—but he had Bing and Ghost Claw as his helpers. A pity the Magic Flute was absent, or their odds would be better; still, Tang Tang was not overly concerned.

Tang Duo's gaze settled on the pale-faced youth; the sickly boy looked like a decent target to break through.

"Uncle, you and Ghost Claw—how long to finish off that little one?" Tang Tang asked.

With the Sky Tiger, Uncle Bing was a tiger with wings, his strength raised another notch. Together with Ghost Claw, dealing with the sickly youth should be no problem.

The question was how long the two of them together would need to finish him.

Tang Cen knew his own strength was absolutely no match for that ferocious-looking one called Duo. However long Bing and Ghost Claw needed to kill the sickly boy, that was how long he would have to hold the other off.

"Five minutes," Bing said after a moment's thought.

He did not object to Tang Duo's battle plan—it looked quite sound. With Tang Tang's current strength, serving as a finisher would still be rather difficult; but this Duo's fierce, unmatched instincts made him the perfect choice to tie up the enemy.

And besides…

At the thought of the coming fight, Bing's heart swelled with anticipation. His last battle with the Vajra had left him hungry for more. A soldier born, his appetite for combat was something ordinary martial artists could never imagine.

And now, with a keen weapon like the Sky Tiger, his lust for battle burned even hotter.

Five minutes…

Tang Duo fixed his gaze on the middle-aged man in the black cloak; the firecrow embroidered on it declared the man's identity.

The Firecrow Executioner, Guo Dong—ranked 9,928 on the Heaven's Road Ranking!

A powerhouse on the Heaven's Road Ranking—just thinking of it set Tang Tang's blood racing. To cross blades with a strongman like this would show him his own strength, show him exactly where his limits lay!

This was the first ranked powerhouse he had ever encountered.

Heaven's Road Ranking, 9,928th!

Come on, then—let me see just how strong you really are!

Tang Duo's fighting spirit boiled over, a tinge of blood rising in his eyes, and he hurled himself forward.

The instant Tang Tang charged, Guo Dong sensed it.

Guo Dong's expression shifted slightly; he had not expected anyone to creep this close to him. True, he had been distracted, caught up in that overbearing charge of the firebird rider, but the sneak attacker's strength was by no means low.

Guo Dong, known as the Firecrow Executioner, had killed enough to soak the plains in blood; his combat experience was vast indeed. His heart went cold on the spot—he knew the danger.

Startled but not rattled, Guo Dong suddenly had a dark crimson long sword in his hand.

One of the Corvus Constellation's white-silver treasures—the Fierce Firecrow Sword!

With a rush, a plume of dark, shadowy crimson flame bloomed from the blade.

Without even looking, Guo Dong swept a slash behind him. The dark crimson arc of the Fierce Firecrow Sword flew out like a firecrow spreading its wings, gliding silently straight at Tang Tang.

Tang Tang roared, his right palm flipping over, five fingers hooked like talons, trailing a burst of dazzling sparks as he struck straight at the firecrow's blade-light!

Pfft!

The sound of the collision was faint as a candle being blown out.

Yet Tang Tang felt a profoundly sinister breath wholly ignore his true force and bore straight into his arm; in nearly an instant, his right arm was almost frozen stiff.