Chapter 80 (Patreon)
Content
“Phelps!” Chen Haoran’s qi spun to life, and he sprinted to the newly made hole in the wall.
“You dare!” Xie Jin roared behind him.
Chen Haoran grabbed the splintered wood of the wall and crushed it with a white knuckle grip as he looked at the fallen form of the Eighth-Layer. “Phelps!”
A squeal came from the man’s body. He slowly floated up and Phelps slipped out from underneath and floated in the air looking dazed but none worse for wear. Chen Haoran heaved a sigh of relief. Phelps must have instinctively used his power to lessen both their weights when he got it. He was always quick on the ball.
Xie Jin’s grunt of pain came from behind and Chen Haoran turned around to find him skidding across the floor holding his gut. The Ninth-Layer stood wielded his sword, still in its scabbard, and stood unruffled.
Right. He had this asshole to deal with.
“Phelps come here,” he called before turning and facing the cause of this mess. His qi spiked with every step and he could feel it coursing through his meridians like blood. The Ninth-Layer walked toward him as well-no. Rather he was walking to the hole in the wall behind him. “Hey asshole. This is the part where your supposed to apologize.”
“Don’t interfere,” came the cool reply.
The Ninth-Layer made no move to stop and was about to walk past him when Chen Haoran swung out his hand like a whip. The bastard quickly tilted his chin back and swung his scabbard into his chest only for Chen Haoran to block it with his arm.
“I’m not normally a violent guy,” Chen Haoran said in a clipped, even tone. “But back in my hometown I would never let this slide.” He raised his hand. A dragon’s furious roar echo in his chest. He was really quite angry. “Let me slap out of few of your teeth and call it even.”
The Ninth-Layer coldly snorted. “Get out of the way.” He rushed in with light steps swung his scabbard again. Chen Haoran stepped into the blow and raised his arm to block it.
The first indication something was wrong was when his arm was flung back. As he registered what happened he felt something heavy hit his head and send him sprawling. He was still thinking when the wooden floor splintered under his cheek. The Ninth-Layer’s white shoes were about to step over him when he grabbed his ankle and pulled him off balance. Chen Haoran rose up and struck at his groin, eliciting a hiss of pain from the white-clothed youth. It was a weak hit from an awkward angle however and so rather than be debilitated the Ninth-Layer brought his other knee up and slammed Chen Haoran’s head. This time he was ready, his qi cycling like a river, he caught the knee on his forehead and absorbed the force. At the same time he harshly yanked his hand to the left and threw the white-robed youth to the floor. He tried to leap on him then and grapple but was forced to roll away from a scabbard stab to his throat.
They separated. Chen Haoran tried to stand when his legs suddenly buckled. He cycled his qi to steady himself and held a hand to his head. The Ninth-Layer rose on unsteady feet of his own, his hand instinctively reaching for his groin before he stopped himself.
“Brother Chen,” Xie Jin called, having caught his breath. “He’s-”
“I know.” Chen Haoran said. “Stay back.” A person couldn’t sense the quality of another's cultivation. Such a thing had to be felt, and in the moment his arm was blasted away he realized his opponent also practiced an Earth-rank cultivation method. He cast a wary gaze on the sheathed sword. He’d blocked maces on his arms without issue and yet he was forced back. That meant the weapon could channel qi very well, even through its scabbard. It had to be Profound-rank at least.
His first day in the south and he was already picking a fight with someone on Lan Yao’s level. Joy.
“You bastard,” growled the Ninth-Layer through clenched teeth.
“You got some dust on your clothes,” Chen Haoran pointed out.
It was more than a bit of dust however. In the time he spent on the floor the Ninth-Layer’s once pristine white robes had picked up dirt and food stains. His clothes and posture now were a far cry from how he arrogantly entered the inn and it seemed his opponent knew it with how he flushed red in anger.
Chen Haoran shook the last of the dizziness from his head and pulled his sheathed scimitar off his hip. The Ninth-Layer glared at him but he could see his eyes flicker to the hole in the wall.
“I don’t have time for you, I must apprehend that man. Stay right here and I, Wang Xiao, will return to settle this account.”
Chen Haoran leaped forward with a burst of qi and swung his blade down. “How about no?” Wang Xiao leapt to the side and his sword smashed the floorboards to pieces. “You hurt my pet. You don’t apologize. And you beat the shit out of me. The only settlement I’ll take is you kneeling to Phelps and saying your sorry.”
Wang Xiao clicked his tongue in annoyance. Chen Haoran’s senses suddenly twinged as he felt a change in qi. Wang Xiao rushed him faster than before, every step he took sending water-like ripples through the air. Chen Haoran swung but Wang Xiao deftly slid around the blow and hammered his side with his scabbard. The air was knocked out of Chen Haoran’s lungs and he tried to ward him off with a reflexive stab that Wang Xiao easily parried.
Chen Haoran was quickly forced onto the back foot as Wang Xiao practically slid around his blows and accurately targeted his weak points. It reminded Chen Haoran of his last duel with Lan Junjie and the stars he summoned with his treasure slippers. Wang Xiao’s technique, however, proved far more practical than merely distracting, it seemed the whole floor had become a surface of water for him to glide on. It took Chen Haoran cycling his qi to his fullest to keep up with him barely. It didn’t help that Wang Xiao was the better swordsman between the two of them, Chen Haoran wanted to use his own sword to make up for the difference in reach but it was proving to be pointless. His only saving grace was his durability, a fact that seemed to frustrate Wang Xiao the longer they fought going by the scowl on his face.
“Move!” He roared.
Chen Haoran grit his teeth and shoved his hand inside his storage bag. Wang Xiao’s eyes gleamed at the opening and was about to heavily punish Chen Haoran for it when a chair flew over and smashed on his back. Xie Jin had moved into Wang Xiao’s blind spot and intervened at just the right time.
“Close your eyes!” Chen Haoran shouted as he pulled out a slip of paper. He thrust the paper forward as he shut his eyes and channeled qi into it. When he had stolen the from the corpses of the Lan family back in the Spa Cavern, he hadn’t known what the papers were beyond that they had qi trapped inside of them. As it turned out they were talismans, a sort of technique on demand. The one the Lan family had was a flare.
He felt heat bloom in his hand and the light burned red through his eyelids. There were various cries of pain from those brave enough to remain spectators in the inn. The loudest being in front of him. Chen Haoran locked his sense onto Wang Xiao and cycled qi to his fist. He felt his fist meet flesh and he roared as he followed through, punching Wang Xiao in the face and sending him flying.
He opened his eyes to find various people bent over with tears in their eyes. Xie Jin had fortunately heeded his warning in time and was fine. Wang Xiao was sprawled out onto the floor, hopefully knocked out but Chen Haoran wouldn’t take any chances and sprinted over.
His sense still being locked onto Wang Xiao is what saved him.
Wang Xiao burst into a flurry of motion, water rippling from his body as he spun up from the floor and flashed over to Chen Haoran. He stopped on a dime and threw himself backward as silver flashed before his eyes and a thin line of pain spread across his chest. Blood spilled and stained his silk robes, all the anger that he’d built cooled in an instant as his mind kicked into overdrive. Wang Xiao held his vermilion scabbard in one hand, in the other was a beautiful silver sword tipped with blood.
His blood.
He’d been cut. What originally had been a nonlethal spat had escalated. No matter how angry he was it wasn’t something worth putting his life on the line for. Should he de-escalate? Would Wang Xiao let him at this point now that he brandished his sword? He thought of Lan Fen. She wouldn’t. If Wang Xiao was anything like her then just words wouldn’t be enough at this point.
He grasped the hilt of his scimitar and pulled out a sliver. Long cuts appeared on the floor beneath him and Wang Xiao’s face morphed into shock. Just as he was about to pull more of the blade out Xie Jin’s anxious shout reached him.
“Brother Chen, there’s a problem!”
Chen Haoran twisted to see Xie Jin standing by the hole in the wall looking furious. There was a dull moment of incomprehension. Xie Jin was alone. What was the problem he was talking about?
His blood curdled. Xie Jin was alone.
Where was Phelps?
Wang Xiao cursed, and they both rushed over to Xie Jin. Chen Haoran spiked his qi and shot out of the inn and into the street.
The empty street.
Phelps and the Eighth-Layer were gone.