Tian's mind raced, each second stretching into eternity as if time itself had slowed down. I've tried my best... but I still can't beat this guy, he thought, despair creeping in. How will I ever have my revenge if I can't even hold my own against a Qi Refining stage cultivator?
His grip on his sword slackened, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the cold hand of defeat grasping at his heart. He began to accept his fate... until a spark of defiance flickered within him.
"NO!" he shouted inwardly, his resolve hardening like tempered steel. Even if I wish death upon myself, I won’t drag Zhou Lan down with me. I must not let my heart falter. The path to strength is not easy, and if something like this shakes my heart...
I DON'T DESERVE MY NAME!
A powerful tremor shook his Dantian, the sword within it glowing with an otherworldly light. In that instant, a new technique surged into his mind, its knowledge flooding his consciousness like a river breaking through a dam. The skill wasn’t just entering his mind—it was speaking to him, guiding him, showing him how to unleash its full potential.
Tian's eyes snapped open, fierce and unyielding. He whispered the name of the technique with unwavering resolve.
"Heavenly Vanishing Steps."
As he spoke those words, a massive wave of aura exploded from his body, rippling through the air like a storm unleashed. The ground cracked beneath his feet, and the energy around him crackled with intensity.
The demonic cultivator’s eyes narrowed, his sneer turning into a look of surprise. "What is this?" he muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. "Is this kid... breaking through?"
He swung his sword down with all his might, aiming straight for Tian Ping's head, pouring every ounce of his demonic energy into the strike.
BAM!
The impact sent a shockwave that scattered dust and debris all around. The ground beneath their feet trembled violently, the air itself quaking from the force of the clash.
But when the dust settled... Tian Ping was nowhere in sight.
"Gotta be faster than that, you skinny bastard," Tian Ping taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance as he reappeared a short distance away. His eyes burned with a murderous intensity, a twisted smile spreading across his face.
The cloaked man’s expression twisted into shock and confusion. What the hell... this kid just broke through twice? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? His mind raced, panic setting in. He was already a pain in the ass, and now he's even more dangerous... He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. Good thing I broke that bastard’s sword, or this could've gotten out of control.
Tian Ping turned to Zhou Lan, his eyes softening just a fraction. "Zhou Lan," he called out to her.
"Y-yes?" she stammered, still trembling from the intensity of the battle, her voice shaky but trying to hold steady.
"Can you lend me a sword, please?" Tian Ping said, a smile playing on his lips despite the blood trickling from his shoulder.
Just as Zhou Lan was about to respond, the demonic cultivator snarled, his eyes blazing with fury. "OH NO, YOU DON'T!" He slashed his sword, sending a deadly arc of energy hurtling straight toward Zhou Lan.
"Heavenly Vanishing Steps."
In the blink of an eye, Tian Ping vanished from where he stood. Before the attack could reach her, Zhou Lan found herself swept up, held securely in Tian Ping's arms. The deadly slash struck empty air, dissipating harmlessly into the distance.
Tian Ping looked down at her, his expression calm and determined. "Can I borrow that sword now?" he asked, a hint of a playful grin tugging at his lips.
“Y-yeah, here,” Zhou Lan stammered, her cheeks flushed with a deep red as she took a sword out of her spatial ring. Her hands trembled slightly, the aftermath of fear and adrenaline still coursing through her veins. “This sword is pretty powerful. I'm not strong enough to use it, but you should have no problem with it,” she said, her voice wavering.
Tian Ping took the first stage spirit weapon from her, his grip steady and sure. He marveled at its craftsmanship, the blade practically humming with energy. “Whoa, thanks. This is incredibly light,” he said, giving the sword a swift swing. It cut through the air with a sharp whistle, almost as if the very wind parted in respect.
He gently set Zhou Lan down, his touch tender, almost protective. Then, without another word, he turned his gaze to the demonic cultivator. His expression hardened, the warmth he'd shown Zhou Lan replaced by a cold, unyielding determination.
Tian Ping took a slow, deliberate step forward, his aura pulsing with each footfall. The ground beneath him seemed to crackle with latent energy, pebbles rising slightly into the air as if responding to his power. The demonic cultivator's sneer grew tighter, his eyes narrowing as he watched the young warrior advance.
Step by step, Tian Ping closed the distance, his eyes never leaving his opponent’s. He walked with the calm of someone who had already accepted the fight’s outcome, his aura intensifying with every step. The spirit weapon in his hand seemed to shimmer, almost eager for the clash that awaited.
“You know,” Tian Ping said, his voice echoing in the heavy air between them, “for someone who’s so confident in his strength, you sure seem nervous.” He smirked, the hint of arrogance on his lips now matching the fire in his eyes. “I’m ready for round two.”
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