Da Tiechui roared, hurling his iron hammer with terrifying force straight at the black-clad attacker.
But the man moved with eerie, agile speed. Even as the hammer shattered trunks and sent trees collapsing, it never caught him. Slipping through the swings, the shadowy killer struck again—another Mohist disciple fell into a pool of blood.
"Bastard!" Da Tiechui's fury shook the grove, birds exploding from the canopy. His hammer blurred into a cyclone of blows, savage gusts ripping through the undergrowth. Each impact boomed like thunder; even the ground shook whenever the maul hit, a measure of its frightening power.
Power alone wasn't enough. Da Tiechui was overwhelmingly strong, but slow; against a foe who came and went like a ghost, he could only stand his ground and swing, defending and attacking from one spot.
When yet another Mohist disciple went down, Da Tiechui finally lost all restraint. With a bellow he unleashed his strongest technique, Thunder God Hammer. A howling gale burst outward as the hammer wheel carved a tornado around him, tearing everything to pieces. In moments the grove lay in ruins.
The black-robed man seized the opening the instant the technique ended. His figure flickered; iron talons flashed like cold lightning toward Da Tiechui's neck.
"What—!" Da Tiechui's heart lurched. Fresh off the Thunder God Hammer, his momentum betrayed him—there was no way to dodge a killing strike like this.
At that split second, frost raced across the ground in a spreading web. A graceful figure stepped from the trees—Gao Jianli. The blade in his hand was sheathed in hoarfrost; biting cold rolled off the sword as he slashed toward the assassin.
The sword's chill gleamed like a shard of winter moonlight; rime bloomed where the cold spilled. Shuihan whistled past the attacker's throat by a hair's breadth, forcing him to arch back and fling himself away to avoid instant death.
"Little Gao, be careful," Da Tiechui called, relief in his eyes. "This one's slippery—fast and tricky—and the trees make it worse."
"I know." Gao Jianli nodded, gaze steady on the black-clad man. "Liu Sha… Yin Fu. So Wei Zhuang sent you, too. Seems he really has decided to stand against the Mohists."
"This is the Yin Fu of Liu Sha?" Da Tiechui's brows rose. "Then Wei Zhuang must already be inside Mohist Mechanical City."
High on a cliff, three figures watched the scene below. Arms folded, Mo Ya smiled faintly. "Gao Jianli… looks like Yin Fu isn't his match. Need us to step in?"
"No." Wei Zhuang's white hair streamed in the night wind, his face impassive.
"So he's a piece you're willing to sacrifice," Bai Feng said coolly.
"Everyone has their value. If he can't handle this, he isn't fit to serve under me," Wei Zhuang replied, voice flat.
Mo Ya and Bai Feng traded a glance, then fell silent, eyes returning to the fight.
"Heh… Shuihan and Gao Jianli. Lucky me," Yin Fu rasped, licking the edge of his iron claws with a bat-like tongue. "A famous name like yours—your blood must taste exquisite."
"That depends on whether you have the skill to take it." Gao Jianli's eyes sharpened. Cold surged from Shuihan, the temperature dropping in a breath, and he flashed in to attack.
Steel met steel with a screech. Frost raced up Yin Fu's iron claws, icing them over inch by inch.
"Damn this cold." Yin Fu cursed, twisted away, and broke contact.
His movement turned erratic—feints, flips, and sudden lunges. He pressed in with brutal close-quarters strikes, feet and fists snapping from every angle. Gao Jianli stood calm as still water, focus absolute; Shuihan flickered whenever the assassin overcommitted, forcing Yin Fu back time and again.
Finding no purchase up close, Yin Fu sprang into the dark, melting into the trunks and shadows. He darted side to side, using the night and cover to scramble Gao Jianli's line of sight—then dove from above, blood-qi coiling around his gaunt form. With his inhuman visage and that reek of slaughter, he looked every inch a demon.
His right hand shot out. The talons carved a killing line at Gao Jianli's throat.
Gao Jianli's eyes flashed. He pivoted, Shuihan tracing a cold arc like a crescent moon; his movement was as elegant as it was lethal.
Steel rang three times in a blink—sword and claw colliding as they crossed. Rebounding from the clash, they slid past one another.
Yin Fu glanced down. Frost blossomed around a clean cut across his chest; the cold poured inward, making his whole body shudder. He clenched his teeth, trying to force the chill back—useless. In moments, even his breath smoked.
One-handed, Gao Jianli held Shuihan angled low, posture relaxed, the blade veiled in an icy mist.
Yin Fu cultivated the southern Bat-Blood Art, a yin-cold path. Each draught of blood strengthened him; a day without, and his power waned. Against Gao Jianli's freezing aura, it was disaster. A single touch sent the chill racing through his meridians; with just one cut he was on the edge of freezing from the inside out. Gao Jianli was his natural counter.
"Damn it!" Yin Fu snarled. Shivering, he forced his qi to move, then vaulted toward the deeper dark.
"Trying to run? Not that easy!" Da Tiechui had been waiting. With a roar, he let fly his great hammer.
Half-frozen, Yin Fu's speed faltered. He couldn't evade.
The hammer hit with a skull-rattling crash, caving him into the ground. The chill he'd been holding back surged all at once; frost smoked from his body, then sealed him in ice as his life guttered out.
"Came all the way from the southern wilds just to die… poor Yin Fu," Mo Ya sighed, watching from the cliff.
"Ten years of hard practice in the south, wasted," Wei Zhuang said mildly. Yin Fu's death stirred nothing in him.
"Bad luck, running into Gao Jianli—the worst attribute match-up he could have had," Mo Ya added.
"A loss is a loss. No excuses." Wei Zhuang planted Shachi in the earth. A faint, domineering pressure rolled from the blade as his fighting spirit rose. "By now, Lin'er should be moving. Go. Keep Gao Jianli and Da Tiechui tied up—don't let them rejoin the others."
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Mo Ya told him. "Your play this time could anger Sir Goku. If it does, don't expect us to save you."
"I don't need your lessons. Do your part." Wei Zhuang's tone didn't change.
Mo Ya and Bai Feng exchanged a look, then dropped from the cliff, gliding toward the grove.
"From the way he's acting, I'd say even Sir Goku is one of Wei Zhuang's targets tonight," Mo Ya murmured as they fell.
"Wei Zhuang seeks the pinnacle of force," Bai Feng replied. "Sir Goku has always been the summit before him. Now that Wei Zhuang's cultivation is complete, a challenge was inevitable."
"'Number One Under Heaven'—hard to resist. But until you've felt Sir Goku's power yourself, you can't understand it. Wei Zhuang is destined to lose."
---
"Da Tiechui—heads up! Company!" Gao Jianli looked skyward.
Two figures dropped like meteors. Feathers fluttered around them as they alighted—one on a black plume, one on a white—standing weightless atop the treetops.
Gao Jianli's expression tightened. "Mo Ya and Bai Feng—first and second among Liu Sha's Four Heavenly Kings. Looks like Liu Sha came in force."
"Gao Jianli of the Mohists—an honor." Mo Ya smiled. "You finished Yin Fu that fast. Your reputation is well earned."
"Little Gao," Da Tiechui said under his breath, "something's off. It's too quiet. Our people… did they—"
Gao Jianli's frown deepened. "These two aren't simple. We won't settle this quickly. Their aim is to delay us. We need to get back to the others."
"Back? Afraid not." Bai Feng flicked a single white feather and in an instant stood on the ground ahead, blocking the way. "If you want through, you'll have to beat us first."
"'I've long wanted to fight you myself," Mo Ya said, vanishing and reappearing in front of Gao Jianli.
"So fast," Gao Jianli muttered, eyes narrowing as he raised Shuihan. Frost billowed, and the air plunged toward winter.
_____
T/N:
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