Chapter 146: Severely Wounding Tang San
"Dragon's Wrath! Dragon Transformation!"
"Blue Lightning Divine Dragon Strike!"
Yu Tianheng unleashed his third and fourth spirit skills at once, his body cloaked in lightning as his entire form transformed into a ferocious dragon-like warrior.
The might of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon—hailed as the strongest beast-type martial soul on the continent—was no exaggeration. The mere thunderous aura radiating from him drew gasps of awe from the stands.
Beside him, Tai Long activated his third spirit skill. His third ring lit up with golden light as his body expanded, muscles bulging under a layer of black fur.
But Luo Ling regarded their charge with nothing more than faint amusement. His sharp gaze shifted past them—straight to Tang San, standing at the rear.
A deep violet fourth spirit ring shone beneath Tang San's feet. The Blue Silver Grass around him reformed into four crimson-striped blades, floating in mid-air.
His fourth skill was no longer the Blue Silver Prison from the original story—it had become a deadly offensive ability.
Staring intently at Luo Ling, Tang San's expression hardened. The eight gleaming blades hovering before him were his fourth spirit ability—Blue Silver Flying Blades.
Ever since he had witnessed the Evil Master using black feathers as projectiles, Tang San had longed to turn his martial soul into a spirit weapon—something akin to his old Tang Sect hidden weapons.
After much study, he had selected the Sword Bamboo, a plant-type spirit beast whose leaves could be fired like cutting blades.
Thus, his fourth spirit ability had originated from a four-thousand-year-old Sword Bamboo. His wish had come true.
Blue Silver Flying Blades allowed him to condense his martial soul into razor-edged weapons capable of striking at a distance. For every spirit ring, he could form two blades—eight in total now.
These blades carried not only the toxins of the Blue Silver Grass but also its newly acquired evil attribute, making them deadlier than most of Tang San's hidden weapons.
With a flick of his hand, the eight blades appeared before him, and an aura of murderous focus enveloped his body.
Violet light erupted from his pupils—his spiritual power surged to its peak.
Tracing a strange arc through the air with his right hand, Tang San hurled all eight blades forward at once.
The crimson-lined blades sliced through the air, spinning like boomerangs that defied normal trajectories, zigzagging unpredictably.
Batwing Rebound—the tenth ranked Tang Sect projectile technique!
It was one of Tang San's ultimate hidden weapon moves. And he was using it here, in the preliminaries.
For the first time, Luo Ling actually looked surprised. Without the X-ray-like perception of the Seven Treasure Glazed Pagoda or the control techniques of its sect, Tang San had still managed to master such precision throwing.
But in the face of overwhelming strength, technique alone was meaningless.
Luo Ling's current level of spiritual power even he could barely quantify—but he was certain of one thing: if he wanted, he could now use his soul-control line technique on a Title Douluo without suffering backlash.
That meant his spiritual power was already on par with them.
And as his vast awareness expanded, every trajectory of Tang San's eight returning blades appeared vividly in his vision.
Luo Ling raised his ebony scythe, darkness gathering around it like a living storm.
His crimson eyes flickered toward Yu Tianheng and Tai Long, who were now rushing at him ferociously. Yet there was no trace of emotion on his face.
The tournament forbade killing—but not maiming.
Just like Shrek themselves had done, once upon a time.
The next instant, Luo Ling vanished. His speed surged beyond normal sight, a streak of shadow slicing through the air.
The Phantom Scythe swung—colliding head-on with Yu Tianheng's descending lightning dragon.
Darkness clashing with thunder—power versus power!
He didn't dodge, not even a step.
Evil energy flared violently as he met the force of lightning. For a split second, thunder and shadow became one, and then—
Silence.
The lightning dragon's roar vanished. Its brilliance flickered and crumbled into dim sparks as darkness swallowed it whole.
A flash of black light cut through the sky.
Luo Ling's body slid effortlessly past the dragon's fading outline; his scythe cut through the air like reaping death itself—
and struck directly across the bodies of Yu Tianheng and Tai Long.
Evil power erupted. Their defenses collapsed instantly under a strength they could not resist.
Both were sent flying, ribbons of shadow clinging like parasitic worms to their mangled wounds. Flesh tore; blood sizzled as if corroded by poison.
As they hit the ground, the remnants of Yu Tianheng's lightning dragon shattered behind them, raining sparks that fizzled weakly against the arena floor.
Luo Ling gazed after them impassively. He had held back. Had he not, the pair would have been bisected before they even realized it.
Shocked murmurs rippled through the spectators.
Tang San's face twisted. Even he would've needed full strength to defeat Yu Tianheng, but Luo Ling had done it with a single, casual strike.
Yet Tang San didn't back down. Gritting his teeth, he focused on his final gambit.
The eight blue-silver blades hovered behind him like vipers ready to strike. Then, snapping forward at impossible angles, they flew again—straight for Luo Ling.
Eyes, throat, heart, knees, groin—every vital point was targeted.
As the blades streaked toward their mark, a triumphant gleam filled Tang San's eyes.
Got him…
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Luo Ling turned slightly—his crimson gaze met Tang San's.
He was smiling. Mocking.
Luo Ling lifted his scythe.
Eight blades converged simultaneously—sharp, precise, deadly.
They clanged against something invisible. The sound of metal ringing against metal echoed eight times in quick succession.
Luo Ling's hand blurred. The scythe became a cascade of afterimages as he deflected each blade effortlessly.
Seven were instantly consumed by his dark energy, dissolved into ash midair.
The last one ricocheted away—but then curved back.
Following the exact trajectory of Tang San's throw.
Batwing Rebound—reversed!
He had replicated Tang San's skill. And with perfection.
No hands—just timing, impact, and sheer control. Luo Ling had utilized the recoil from clashing his scythe with the blades alongside his colossal spiritual power to replicate the technique flawlessly.
Faster, sharper, deadlier.
Tang San stood frozen. His mind went blank.
His signature technique—the Tang Sect's treasured skill—turned back on him.
How could this be possible?
The roaring audience faded into silence in his ears.
"Watch out!" someone shouted.
Tang San snapped out of it just as the final blade hurtled toward him. It was too late.
The spinning weapon struck deep into his shoulder, driving him backward with terrifying force.
Unlike his own blades, this one carried Luo Ling's corrupt, parasitic energy.
Tang San's body crashed against the arena wall and stuck there, nailed in place, blood dripping down the surface.
Horrified gasps erupted across the stands.
On the field, Luo Ling stood calmly with a faint, devilish smile—the image of elegant cruelty.
Without shedding a drop of blood himself, he had already reduced Shrek's strongest—Tang San, Yu Tianheng, and Tai Long—to broken wrecks.
"We surrender! Stop, please!" Yu Xiaogang's voice roared from the sidelines, trembling with anger and desperation.
From above, Ma Hongjun plummeted back to the ground while the remaining Heaven Dou fighters gathered around Luo Ling, speechless as they stared at the devastation.
The sight of Shrek's top three lying defeated at Luo Ling's feet made them swallow nervously.
He hadn't killed anyone.
He hadn't needed to.
(END CHAPTER)
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