Chapter 219: Full Firepower Unleashed!
Chen Ping’s pupils shrank to pinpricks the moment the blazing bird materialized.
A Perfection-grade Mysterious-rank Art. The disparity in power between it and his own Fire Dragon Art was staggering.
Sizzle! The fiery beak sheared through the air, casually pecking clean through the skull of his leading fire dragon!
The phoenix phantom then drew a massive, unnatural breath. Like prey meeting their apex predator, Chen Ping’s colossal fire dragons lost all structural integrity, their roaring flames violently siphoned into the diminutive beak. In the blink of an eye, the terrifying inferno was swallowed whole. The solitary phoenix flickered, as if burping in satisfaction, before picking off the second and third dragons with equal ease.
Fortunately, gorging on the three dragons seemed to overtax the phantom’s remaining spiritual energy. Its blinding light guttered and dissolved into the sterile air.
Yet, the brief exchange left Chen Ping deeply shaken. The old ghost’s mastery and application of Arts eclipsed his own by miles. For the first time, he viscerally felt the crushing weight of the gap in Art proficiency.
But Han Liren wasn’t finished. Before the final ember faded, the old ghost’s left hand blurred through a string of unseen hand seals. He leveled a finger at Chen Ping and slashed at the empty air.
“Mystic Water: Thousand Blades!”
The air surrounding Chen Ping instantly froze. Hundreds, then thousands, of hyper-condensed water blades materialized from the ambient moisture. Thin as cicada wings and glinting with a morbid, dark blue light, they hung suspended for a fraction of a second before shrieking toward him.
It was a torrential, omnidirectional barrage. The blades sealed every conceivable avenue of escape, striking with ruthless, lightning-fast precision!
Every hair on Chen Ping’s body stood on end. The suffocating stench of death gripped his throat. There was no time to recall his flying swords. No time to detonate a Talisman. He could only force his true essence to the absolute limit.
Tapping into the massive reserves of his secondary Dantian, he unleashed the Fire Dragon Art in its most desperate form. Ten fiery serpents erupted from his body, coiling into a frantic defensive dome above his head, instantly draining thirty percent of his reserves!
The swarm of water blades hammered the fiery dome like a catastrophic storm. The agonizing screech of water vaporizing against fire filled the tomb. But the gap in Art proficiency was absolute. The majestic fire dragons held the line for barely One Breath before violently shattering.
Dozens of surviving water blades carved through the resulting steam, slicing into Chen Ping’s hastily erected spiritual light shield.
Sizzle! Sizzle! Sizzle!
The barrier popped like a fragile soap bubble. Twisting his torso with brutal force, Chen Ping desperately contorted away from the lethal strikes.
Puff! Puff! Puff!
Three jets of crimson sprayed across the emerald floor. Searing agony tore through his left shoulder, right ribs, and outer thigh. The hyper-pressurized water sheared straight to the bone, instantly dyeing his Daoist robe red.
Chen Ping swallowed a muffled groan, the sheer kinetic force staggering him backward. His face paled. Maintaining his disguise at the fourth layer of Foundation Establishment was suicidal. Han Liren’s fifth-layer power, amplified by Violet Palace experience, packed a lethality that completely shattered his initial estimations. If he hadn’t burned a massive chunk of his reserves to deploy those ten dragons, that single volley would have butchered him.
“A passable reaction, Junior. But this is where you die,” Han Liren sneered, his eyes brimming with archaic malice. The old ghost’s patience was spent; his figure blurred forward, intending to completely eradicate this thieving rat.
But the moment his foot left the floor, Chen Ping snapped his head up. The cautious calculation in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying, unbridled intensity.
BOOM!
An apocalyptic wave of spiritual pressure detonated from Chen Ping’s body. He ripped away his disguise, unleashing the absolute peak of the sixth layer of Foundation Establishment!
The dense aura instantly flooded the cavern, aggressively crushing Han Liren’s forcibly elevated fifth-layer pressure. Boundless true essence surged through Chen Ping’s meridians, forcibly sealing his bleeding wounds and skyrocketing his combat momentum.
“What?!” Han Liren skidded to a violently abrupt halt, sheer, unadulterated shock shattering his arrogant facade.
The sixth layer of Foundation Establishment?! And at the absolute peak?! The boy looked even younger than Han Feiyu! In his era, reaching Foundation Establishment before the age of thirty marked a supreme genius. Hitting the third layer made one a monster among monsters. Had the outside world bred an entire generation of freaks?!
Despite his utter disbelief, Han Liren was a Violet Palace ancient who had weathered centuries of slaughter. He violently clamped down on his panic, his gaze turning infinitely darker. This brat cannot be allowed to live!
But Chen Ping offered no quarter. With his cultivation fully unsealed, his speed, Divine Sense, and raw power surged to a terrifying new tier.
“Swords, come!” he roared.
The scattered forty-nine flying swords shrieked, snapping back to his side as if magnetized. They hovered in a lethal, vibrating phalanx, their tips locked squarely onto the old ghost.
“Fire Dragon Art: Ten Directions Fire Dragons!”
His fingers blurred into phantoms, weaving hand seals at blinding speed. Ten blindingly white fire dragons roared into existence, their forms vastly denser and more violently compressed than his previous cast. Proficiency wasn’t the only metric of an Art’s power; the sheer density and volume of the caster’s true essence played a pivotal role. Fueled by his peak sixth-layer cultivation, Chen Ping’s Arts had nearly closed the quality gap with the ancient ghost.
The ten serpents braided together in the air. Instead of charging blindly, their jaws snapped open, each vomiting a hyper-dense, crimson fireball. The ten blazing spheres didn’t shoot toward Han Liren; they crashed into the center of the dragon formation, rotating at terrifying speeds to engineer a massive, devastating vortex of localized destruction!
It was a completely new application of the Art—a technique Chen Ping had reverse-engineered mere moments ago just by watching Han Liren deploy the fire phoenix.
Simultaneously, the swarm of forty-nine flying swords splintered. Half the swarm vanished, transforming into lethal streaks of cold light that aimed directly for Han Liren’s blind spots. The remaining blades locked together, forming thick, rotating shields around Chen Ping to absorb any counterattack.
Perfect offense married to impenetrable defense. His momentum was unstoppable!
Han Liren’s face twisted into an ugly, dark scowl. The dynamic of the battle had violently flipped. He didn’t dare act dismissively anymore. Throwing both hands out, he frantically wove dual seals. His left hand conjured a massive Mystic Ice shield to block the incoming blades, while his right summoned a flock of shrieking firebirds to intercept the apocalyptic vortex.
The ancient master was officially on the defensive.
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