“Die!”
Yang Poxiao transformed into a meteor, trailing a comet tail of pitch-black flame. His fist tore through the air, ripping a vacuum in space with an ear-piercing shriek.
Crash!
The layers of Earth-Grade defensive talismans Zhang Xian had hastily deployed shattered instantly, fragile as wet paper.
The speed was overwhelming. Without hesitation, Zhang Xian activated a Wind Shifting Talisman, his figure vanishing from the spot by a hair’s breadth.
“Too slow!”
Yang Poxiao’s sinister laugh echoed like a ghost directly behind where Zhang Xian reappeared.
As if he had predicted the teleportation coordinates, a fist wreathed in black fire smashed viciously toward the center of Zhang Xian’s back.
[Shadow Flame]. A Peak Earth-Grade technique that surpassed anything in the Southern Region by an entire tier. Like the [Blood Incinerating Soul Burning Pill], it was one of Yang Poxiao’s most expensive purchases from the System Store. He was laying all his cards on the table.
Crack!
A sickening crunch rang out. The protective Spirit Treasure on Zhang Xian’s body split open, the violent force penetrating through the armor to the flesh beneath.
Zhang Xian grunted, riding the kinetic energy to retreat backward. A fierce glint flashed in his eyes.
“Explode!”
BOOM!
Without a moment’s hesitation, he detonated the defensive Spirit Treasure. A terrifying shockwave erupted at point-blank range.
Yang Poxiao crossed his arms, the black flames around his body surging violently. He tanked the explosion head-on, staggering only slightly.
“At the end of your rope!” Yang Poxiao sneered, his disdain palpable.
He dove forward again, faster this time. His black-flame fist carried unparalleled might as it descended on Zhang Xian, who had just landed.
Bang!
Zhang Xian’s body shattered like porcelain. Countless intricate gears and metal components scattered across the stage.
Another wooden puppet decoy.
“Hmph! Petty tricks!” Yang Poxiao snorted coldly. He had anticipated this.
His spiritual sense flooded the arena like a tide, hunting for anomalies. In the corner of the stage, amidst the settling dust, a subtle fluctuation of spiritual energy flickered.
“Found you!”
A cruel curve lifted the corner of Yang Poxiao’s mouth. He flicked a finger, and a streak of black flame shot out like a sniper’s bullet. Zhang Xian hastily summoned three earthen shields in succession, barely neutralizing the attack.
Yang Poxiao hovered in mid-air, wreathed in eldritch fire, looking down like a god of war. “A cultivator ultimately relies on their own strength. Relying on these toys and talismans… you will always be trash.”
Zhang Xian’s gaze remained calm, even carrying a hint of mockery. “How much longer can you maintain that state?”
“Long enough to kill you!”
Killing intent boiling over, Yang Poxiao pounced again.
At that moment, Zhang Xian’s eyes sharpened. He whispered a single command.
“Formation.”
Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!
Four puppets appeared once more, surrounding Yang Poxiao in the four cardinal directions.
Yang Poxiao glanced at them and burst into laughter. “Foolish! Planning to self-destruct treasures again? You don’t actually think the same trick will work twice?”
But the puppets didn’t attack. Instead, each held a talisman emitting a strange, harmonic fluctuation.
When the talismans ignited, they didn’t unleash destruction. Instead, they generated an immense, pure, and extreme concentration of raw spiritual energy.
The ambient energy became so dense it almost liquefied, forming a viscous, suffocating swamp of pressure.
Yang Poxiao’s charge abruptly halted. The sinister grin frozen on his face was replaced by boundless terror.
He finally understood Zhang Xian’s kill shot. It wasn’t an explosion. It was a “Spiritual Energy Cage.”
In his current state, Yang Poxiao’s body was already a pressurized vessel, his meridians boiling with the violent energy of the Soul Burning Pill. He was a balloon inflated to its absolute limit.
Now, submerged in this ocean of pure energy, his body was forced to absorb even more. It was the final straw.
Thump.
Something exploded inside him. Not flesh and blood, but his Golden Core.
Overstrained by the secret technique and pushed beyond its structural integrity, the core cracked.
A dull, heavy sound emanated from Yang Poxiao’s chest. The violent aura surrounding him instantly deflated.
“Pfft!!”
Blood mixed with shattered spiritual essence gushed out violently. Yang Poxiao’s body went limp, as if his spine had been removed. He collapsed to his knees, his eyes unfocused, filled with disbelief and despair.
In a single instant, he had fallen from heaven to hell.
His Golden Core was shattered. His cultivation was crippled.
Zhang Xian slowly walked forward, his voice terrifyingly calm.
“I knew a Pill Refining Grandmaster wouldn’t lack desperation pills. I was waiting for the moment you staked everything to ignite your potential. If you hadn’t taken that pill and pushed your Golden Core to the brink, my method of ‘death by overfilling’ might not have worked.”
Yang Poxiao raised his head with great difficulty, his venomous gaze fixed on Zhang Xian. His lips trembled, but no sound came out.
Just as their eyes met, the world spun.
Whoosh.
Countless fragmented images flashed before Yang Poxiao’s eyes like a revolving lantern: his memories of Earth before transmigrating, the ecstasy of obtaining the System, his arduous training in the Spirit Ruins Sword Sect, his hidden, twisted feelings for Long Zhi.
Simultaneously, an indescribable pain exploded deep within his soul. An invisible hand was forcibly rifling through his mind.
Soul Searching Technique?!
Yang Poxiao was terrified out of his wits. He bit the tip of his tongue, using the sharp pain to regain a sliver of clarity.
Summoning the dregs of his [Shadow Flame], he slashed out a phantom blade within his own mind, forcibly severing the soul connection.
“Gah!” Blood gushed from his nose and eyes as his soul essence took heavy damage.
“Demon!! You’re a demonic heretic!!” he screamed shrilly, trying to incite the crowd.
Unfortunately, no one in the audience believed him. Zhang Xian had a reputation for using “fake” soul-searching techniques to bluff enemies into revealing their true nature. To the crowd, this was just another psychological trick.
Zhang Xian raised an eyebrow slightly. “When you can’t win, you start slinging mud? Brother Yang, such behavior hardly befits a prodigy.”
Enduring the soul-rending pain and the despair of a ruined future, a flicker of madness flashed in Yang Poxiao’s eyes.
He grinned viciously, teeth stained red. “Zhang Xian. I admit defeat this time. But this isn’t over!!”
Before his words faded, he mustered his last ounce of strength and punched his own chest.
Thud!
Blood splattered. Yang Poxiao’s body stiffened violently before going limp. His life force vanished instantly.
Zhang Xian frowned, stepping forward to investigate. Suddenly, a cold System notification rang in his mind:
[Ding! Copied partial System ability: Distinguished Disciple Halo (Limited)]
[Distinguished Disciple Halo (Limited): Upon becoming a disciple, the user gradually learns the master’s abilities, including spiritual roots, talents, and cultivation techniques. The halo becomes invalid if the master-disciple relationship is terminated. Single-use only.]
Zhang Xian was inwardly shocked.
The next moment, Yang Poxiao’s corpse dissipated like a mirage. In its place remained only a palm-sized, pitch-black wooden doll.
On the doll’s chest, precisely over the heart, was a fist-sized hole emitting faint spatial fluctuations. The Substitute Doll had done its job. Yang Poxiao had escaped.
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