Crow Immortal: I Can Duplicate Infinite Resources

Under the gaze of thousands, Han Yu unclipped the Spirit Beast Bag at his waist.

With a flick of his wrist, over twenty shadows poured out like splashed ink.

Caw! Caw!

In an instant, the arena was shrouded in darkness. Feathers black as iron blotted out the sun like a storm cloud.

The spectators craned their necks, gasping. A massive alpha crow led the formation, its wingspan dominating the sky. Flanking it were two dozen smaller crows, each with wingspans of several feet, their beaks and talons gleaming with cold, metallic light.

These were no ordinary birds. They moved with a terrifying synchronization, less like animals and more like twenty living magical artifacts!

Li Tonghai stared at the stage, his jaw slack.

When did Senior Brother Han subdue so many spirit birds? Has he been hiding this army for a year?

Ye Shinian and the other Wanchun Valley disciples were stunned for a moment, but then a collective realization washed over them. Their shock turned into knowing smiles.

Of course. Junior Brother Han always has a trick up his sleeve.

His “lucky victories” were never luck. They were calculated outcomes.

Li Yunxia and Tian Ziyue exchanged excited glances. They leaned forward, eager to see their friend unleash his true power.

“Go.”

Han Yu whispered the command, tracing a simple rune in the air with his sword.

The flock instantly split into four squadrons of six, positioning themselves at the cardinal points—North, South, East, West. Han Yu and the Alpha Crow hovered in the center, the eye of the storm.

A Spirit Bird Formation was born. The black mass swirled around Han Yu, a living shield and a thousand loaded weapons, ready to strike or defend at a thought.

Han Yu looked up at the hovering genius. “We can begin.”

“You are indeed very strong!”

Lin Lingxiu’s pupils contracted violently, the starlight within them flaring to blinding intensity.

To the naked eye, the crows were a chaotic mess. But in Lin Lingxiu’s vision, their flight paths wove a complex, shifting tapestry of spiritual energy. It was a dynamic formation, constantly changing to hide its flaws.

I need to break it to see the weakness.

Lin Lingxiu pulled his silver spindle higher, looking down like a god upon an insect. He flicked his fingers, unleashing a torrent of silver-white threads that rained down on the flock.

The crows didn’t panic. They didn’t even attack.

Obeying Han Yu’s silent will, the formation simply… rotated. The collective Spirit Breath of twenty-four birds flowed as one, creating a grinding force.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The silver threads, sharp enough to cut steel, were shredded instantly upon contact with the formation’s outer layer. It was effortless.

This was the power of a living formation.

Seeing this, Li Tonghai slumped in his seat. I never stood a chance, he realized bitterly. If I had fought him, those crows would have picked my bones clean.

“What a fine young talent!” Qin Ting clapped his hands, his laughter echoing across the silent stands. “To control a flock with such effortless precision… even the disciples of the fallen Spirit Beast Sect could not compare! A genius of techniques, indeed!”

Sect Leader Qi and Elder Lü exchanged dark glances. Qin Ting was enjoying this too much. He knew exactly how capable Han Yu was. What is he really up to?

On the arena, Lin Lingxiu didn’t waste time with frustration. Seeing his threads fail, he waved his hand.

Four razor-thin star discs materialized before him. With a hum of power, they shot toward a single point in the formation—targeting one specific crow to break the chain.

But the formation was faster.

Han Yu’s mind moved, and the flock shifted. The star discs slammed into a wall of unified Spirit Breath. Before they could touch a feather, the energy rebounded.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The star discs were repelled, spinning wildly into the air.

Han Yu narrowed his eyes. My turn.

The crows suddenly broke formation, scattering in all directions.

Giving up? Lin Lingxiu thought.

He paused for a heartbeat, only to realize the sky around him had gone dark. The crows hadn’t scattered; they had expanded the net.

He was trapped.

“With the strength of one person, you manipulate an entire army,” Lin Lingxiu murmured, his voice tight. “You are indeed very strong.”

The attack descended.

Groups of three and squads of six dove from the clouds, their bodies wreathed in spiritual light. They struck and retreated, struck and retreated, a relentless cycle of harassment.

Lin Lingxiu’s four star discs spun frantically around him, a blur of defense. Ordinarily, a single hit from his artifact would obliterate a Qi Refining crow. But the formation distributed the impact. The damage was spread across twenty-four bodies, leaving each individual bird unharmed while wearing down Lin Lingxiu’s reserves.

Sweat beaded on Lin Lingxiu’s forehead. The starlight in his eyes flickered, almost solidifying into physical beams as he processed the chaotic data. He blocked, dodged, and analyzed, searching desperately for the pattern.

Down below, Han Yu frowned. Two of them are flagging.

The constant impacts were taking a toll on the weaker birds. He couldn’t rely on attrition. He needed raw power.

Han Yu shifted his mental command.

Offense Mode.

Every crow opened its beak. Aside from the Fire Crows, the rest inhaled deeply.

Whoosh!

Thirty wind blades erupted simultaneously, merging into a localized storm that roared toward Lin Lingxiu.

Lin Lingxiu’s face paled. He stomped on his spindle, and a massive surge of silver threads cocooned him completely.

Screech—!

The wind blades slammed into the silver cocoon. There was a sickening sound of tearing fabric as the threads were shredded, layer by layer.

When the storm passed, the cocoon was in tatters. Lin Lingxiu stood panting, his chest heaving. He stared down at Han Yu, his starry eyes bleeding crimson at the corners. The strain of overusing his ocular technique was taking its toll.

I have to risk it.

Lin Lingxiu’s gaze swept over the flock one last time.

There.

Without warning, the silver spindle beneath his feet vanished. It shot downward like a meteor, aiming not at Han Yu, but at a specific crow on the perimeter.

Han Yu’s eyes widened. He immediately reinforced his flying sword with the Sharp Gold Technique and activated the Yin Style Sword Art’s “Green Edge,” ready to intercept.

But Lin Lingxiu’s strike was too heavy.

Crunch.

The targeted crow let out a muffled cry as the spindle slammed into the formation’s weak point. Even with the damage distribution, the Qi Refining bird buckled under the Ninth Layer attack.

Han Yu struck instantly, knocking the spindle aside, but the rhythm was broken.

Found it!

Lin Lingxiu roared, blood now streaming freely from his eyes. A second silver spindle appeared in his hand—a slender, needle-like weapon.

He didn’t throw it. He dove.

Fast as lightning.

He threaded the needle through the momentary gap in Han Yu’s defense, bypassing the chaotic flock entirely.

The crowd didn’t even have time to scream.

Sect Leader Qi and Elder Lü leaped to their feet, Spiritual Power flaring in their palms to intervene—the strike was a kill-shot.

Qin Ting rose just as fast, his aura exploding to block them.

In that split second, the silver needle pierced Han Yu’s outer protective spell.

It shattered his defensive ring.

The force was catastrophic, far beyond anything Li Tonghai or Chen Ying could produce. It was a strike that combined the “Steady, Accurate, and Ruthless” principles of a master assassin with the raw power of a Ninth Layer genius.

The needle reached Han Yu’s chest.

Thud.

There was no spray of blood. No sound of piercing flesh. Only a dull, heavy impact.

A layer of verdant, spectral armor materialized over Han Yu’s skin, stopping the silver death by a hair’s breadth.

The Green Wood Protection Technique.

Within the Qi Refining realm, its defense was unrivaled.