Wen Jifei

Han Qingyu was already long past the end of his strength. In the end, he had gambled his life on a calculated move to force Qu Zongyan to abandon his weapon, seizing that opening to deliver fourteen consecutive slashes against the only super combatant present, driving him back more than three hundred meters. During that window of time, had the others followed what he had urged three times—run—they actually would have had a chance to get away. Of course, they would not leave. Even Han Qingyu knew this in his heart. He had merely hoped they would, and he had to do something. He could not allow Qu Zongyan to turn on any of the others. The fifteenth slash. Han Qingyu slowed down—only by a fraction. But for Qu Zongyan, that was enough. Parrying the strike with the combat blade in his hand, Qu Zongyan deflected it sideways, twisted his wrist, and chopped straight down. *Slash!* The blade's tip gouged a bloody tear across Han Qingyu's chest. Without the slightest hesitation, showing not even a flicker of reaction to the pain, Han Qingyu swung his arm backward and released the column sword, letting it shoot away first before hurtling after it, evading the lethal strikes sweeping in behind him. "My God! That column sword!" Watching from the cliffside, Zhe Shouzhao's eyes burned feverishly red. Three hundred meters away, Han Qingyu landed and remained on his feet, hand gripping the hilt as he braced his body against the massive column sword. Drenched almost entirely in blood, he teetered precariously. He had landed amidst the enemy horde. At this moment, beyond a ring roughly thirty meters wide around him, the ground was packed with enemies. Yet, among the hundreds surrounding him, not a single one dared step forward to strike him. Not from the flanks, not from behind. Whether from the hidden clans or Voyage, none of them had emerged from blood-soaked battlefields; most lacked the desperate courage of hardened killers. And the impression Han Qingyu had burned into them was simply too terrifying. Psychologically, they felt that only Qu Zongyan, their super combatant, was fit to clash with this man, that only he could kill him—regardless of whether Han Qingyu was on the verge of death or what state he was in. Glancing toward Han Qingyu, He Tangtang forcefully dragged his gaze back, wiped away a tear, and turned around to stick tightly by Wen Jifei's side, his combat blade chopping down again and again. Wen Jifei had told him that he was forbidden from triggering Near-Death Surge. Even if you do, it won't help or change the situation, and if you trigger it, we'll have to carry you on our backs in a moment. He Tangtang felt miserable, but he obeyed. Amidst the chaos, Wen Jifei did his best to dodge the thicket of blades swinging at him. He made no attempt to strike back, refusing to gamble on an ABCDEF strike; his life was still needed. In the bedlam, at least his speed at tumbling down and scrambling back up was astonishing... Under these circumstances, firing a shot was difficult, and Wen Jifei could not afford to waste fatal bullets on ordinary combatants. *Calm down. Calm yourself down, Wen Jifei. Qingzi is fine. He's still alive, he can make it... Help him. You can help him.* *Thud!* The back of the iron armor took a heavy blow from an iron staff. In a duel between top-tiers, fighting one against two, Rusty Sister had already performed remarkably well and held out long enough, especially since she often had to look out for Wen Jifei and He Tangtang. That strike had landed heavily. Sent flying through the air, Rusty Sister quietly tossed the wooden box she had kept concealed behind the crowd. Then, turning her head, she looked at Han Qingyu from afar. *Qingzi, I've placed the sword.* The column swords came as a pair, one large and one small, identical in form. Han Qingyu could control the relative motion of the large blue starlight column sword, so naturally he could do the same with the small one. It was only because he could not control two at once that Rusty Sister had kept the smaller blue starlight column sword all along. She loved it dearly. The column sword was also immensely formidable; if Rusty Sister fought with it, her combat prowess would increase by at least twenty percent. Yet throughout the entire fight just now, locked in a two-on-one battle, no matter how grueling or perilous it became, she had never drawn it. No one here knew she had another blue starlight column sword. She wanted to save this chance for Qingzi. Now she had positioned it, stashing it in the haystack behind Qu Zongyan. Touching down, the iron armor crouched and shot out diagonally. Her knight broadsword sheared through the crowd, slashing toward the other top-tier combatant. The melee descended into utter turmoil beneath the night sky. ...Zhu Jiaming was fleeing in silence. Taking advantage of the brief stupor that had gripped everyone just now, he had broken away with all his might from the opponent he was locked in combat with. That person was actually somewhat weaker than him. By now, he had already put a fair distance between himself and the main battle circle. When Wen Jifei caught sight of Zhu Jiaming amidst the scramble, Zhu Jiaming saw Wen Jifei as well. Across the battlefield and the crowds, a panicked hesitation flickered in the Little Prince's eyes. Turning his head away, he continued sprinting toward the perimeter. *I can't die, I can't die...* Wen Jifei parted his lips, but did not call after him. *Maybe he knows he can't stop me tonight anyway.* Thinking this, his legs never pausing, Zhu Jiaming drew steadily further away. Those still near him were only ordinary combatants, and few in number; they could not halt him at all. Suddenly, a *crack* rang out! *Shooting at me?!* *...* In that split second, Zhu Jiaming dodged for his life, his source energy erupting with a deafening roar. Because of that gunshot, and because the rifle had abruptly fired toward the perimeter, most eyes across the field darted over toward Zhu Jiaming, catching sight of him. It was actually just an ordinary bullet, and Wen Jifei had not intended to aim accurately. Swapping in a fatal magazine, Wen Jifei leveled the rifle, aiming at Zhu Jiaming once more... Seemingly tinged with disappointment and anger, yet laden with even more helplessness and grief, he shouted at him: "If the Little Prince wants to leave, go ahead! It's not like we're brothers anyway..." The words carried a heavy gravity, unlike how Wen Jifei usually spoke. Looking back to glance at him once more, a flicker of guilt flashed in the depths of Zhu Jiaming's eyes, and he hesitated briefly. Then he turned away again. He was already far enough away; the enemy's ordinary forces could never catch him, and as for top-tiers, there was no way they could spare a top-tier combatant to chase him right now. With him gone, they ought to be glad. Behind him... In that exact same tone, Wen Jifei shouted on: "However, leave behind the three Bones of Eternal Life on you! Leave them, and you can go. Otherwise, I fire!" *Whoosh!* An uproar erupted across the field. Zhu Jiaming: "..." In that instant, Zhu Jiaming froze involuntarily. He understood. Wen Jifei would forever and always be Wen Jifei—he would always be that utter bastard. Zhu Jiaming did not have any Bones of Eternal Life on him. All three bones had long been seized by Shen Yixiu and handed over to Han Qingyu. But under these circumstances, not a soul would believe that. Zhu Jiaming knew this all too well. Those were Bones of Eternal Life! Three whole pieces! "After him!" In the center of the field, Qu Zongyan, having retrieved his weapon, even halted mid-stride as he charged toward Han Qingyu and bellowed toward that direction. Instantly, a large crowd surged over. Among them was a top-tier combatant who broke away from the battlefield, their source energy erupting at maximum speed to give chase. Yet one top-tier might not be enough to detain Zhu Jiaming; that was not safe enough. "Send two!" Convinced that this battlefield was already firmly in his grasp, Qu Zongyan roared again, commanding, "Fu Sheng, you go!" The one named Fu Sheng was the strongest and fastest among the hidden clans. He was also the one who had just struck Rusty Sister with an iron staff. Sweeping his long staff across, he slung the iron weapon behind his back, broke away from the battle, and pounced toward Zhu Jiaming as well. Two top-tiers, followed by at least eighty-odd men, charged straight toward Zhu Jiaming's field of view. "..." Zhu Jiaming gave Wen Jifei one last backward glance. He turned. What else could he do now? Run! And if he couldn't outrun them, fight to the death! With that, the weakest combatant on the field, Wen Jifei, had used a single moment of "hesitation," one ordinary bullet, and two sentences to strip the enemy of two top-tier combatants and reduce their numbers by nearly a hundred. The pressure on Rusty Sister's side plummeted; she began regaining control of the situation. Wen Jifei could finally pause to catch his breath from time to time. Two bullets remained in the magazine of Elegy of the Square. Iris was slung behind his shoulder.