In the dim jungle, Scott and Nightwing advanced swiftly.
They had to reach the scene and recover the perfect creature before Qilin's people captured it.
Suddenly, an inconspicuous silver thread appeared in front of Scott. Caught off guard, his neck was instantly sliced through, severing his head.
On the other side, Nightwing reacted with lightning speed. The instant before the silver thread could decapitate him, he drew his blade and slashed forward, neatly splitting the silver thread ahead of him in two.
"Careful, an ambush!"
Scott's head and body had separated, but the blood spraying from the stump acted like a rope tethering the head to his neck. This was one of his abilities: blood manipulation.
He manipulated his blood to swivel his severed head around. Upon deliberate inspection, he discovered that the jungle was laced with silver threads everywhere.
Both ends of these silver threads were connected to minute bubbles, resembling miniature bolas. Most terrifying of all, they were capable of moving.
Before he could even ponder a countermeasure, a silver thread strung between two bubbles flashed from his blind spot and severed one of his arms. He had no choice but to reattach the arm using blood, but with the nerves severed, the limb remained useless until properly healed.
*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*
A dense web of silver threads moved in tandem with the drifting bubbles, relentlessly attacking from every angle and giving Scott and Nightwing no room to breathe.
"What kind of damned ability is this? Where's the enemy?!"
Scott's body was steadily sliced into numerous pieces. Had he lacked the power to manipulate blood, he would have bled out long ago.
By contrast, his companion Nightwing wielded twin blades, deflecting nearly every incoming silver thread with flawless precision. His weapons were clearly no ordinary steel, but Transcendent-grade arms capable of severing the silver threads with a single slash.
High up in the air, Yu Xian watched their performance with cool composure. He did not believe for a second that the pair were truly in dire straits.
The logic was simple.
These two were either after the perfect creature or his Evil-Slaying Squad—perhaps both.
Given the massive commotion from Gong Qian's battle, there was no reason for them to misjudge their opponent's strength. Since they dared to come, they had to possess the confidence to win.
If they couldn't even handle a petty trick like this, had they just come here to throw their lives away?
Working under the assumption that the two were stronger than him, Yu Xian had no intention of clashing with them head-on. Combat was not a contest of levels, nor was it a comparison of raw stats; it was about adaptability, split-second reactions, and tactical intellect.
Down below, Scott and Nightwing realized that the hidden assailant was not falling for their act. The two exchanged a glance, and with Nightwing taking the vanguard, they charged straight ahead to break out.
Scott's decapitation by the silver thread had been real—the initial ambush had indeed caught him unprepared, severing his neck. But having his arm cut off had been a deliberate ruse. Throughout Yu Xian's subsequent flurry of attacks, Scott had selectively endured a mix of real and fake blows that seemed fatal on the surface but dealt him negligible harm.
By all rights, with them seemingly pinned at an absolute disadvantage, the enemy should have shown themselves to interrogate who they were or investigate what faction they belonged to.
Yet the attacker showed zero inclination to reveal himself.
Since their feint had failed, Scott and Nightwing resorted to an open gambit: strike where the enemy must defend!
The opponent clearly wanted to keep them away from the battlefield where the perfect creature was. As long as they recklessly pushed forward, they could force him into the open.
Nightwing spun his twin blades into an impenetrable whirlwind. Silver threads and trees alike were sheared in half wherever he passed. He carved a straight line forward, cutting down anything in his path.
Tucked behind the flashing blades of Nightwing, Scott pressed his severed arm against the wound, using blood like glue to bind the flesh together. In just a few seconds, the solidified blood mended the injuries across his body, leaving behind only scabs of coagulated blood.
He retrieved an arrow from his storage ring, muttering in heartache, "Damn it, to think I have to waste a Wolf-rank treasure."
With that, he smeared his blood onto the arrow and tossed it upward. The arrow shot into the sky immediately. Looking up, he said, "The enemy is in the air."
The moment the words left his mouth, the arrow abruptly vanished. Then, as Scott took a step forward, before his other foot could touch the ground, the very arrow he had launched burst out from the earth, piercing straight through his foot.
"Aaaargh!"
Scott let out a shrill scream of agony. The arrow dragged his body upside down into the air, hurtling rapidly toward Yu Xian's position.
Any spatial ability user with teleportation could remain practically invincible if they wielded their power well, even if they could not defeat opponents above their rank.
Having enhanced his eyesight with Silver Blood, Yu Xian had been observing the pair from high above all along. Every move they made was laid bare before him; Scott's petty tricks had never escaped his sight.
The moment he spotted the arrow, Yu Xian moved a hidden underground bubble swiftly beneath Scott, while catching the arrow with another bubble to teleport it directly beneath Scott's foot.
Theoretically, any attack he could react to in time could be redirected. Only attacks whose speed vastly exceeded his reaction time posed a true threat.
For instance, some of the perfect creature's attacks were so fast he could not react at all; his bubbles would burst in an instant, leaving no time to execute any maneuvers.
Compared to the perfect creature, Scott was far too slow. Yu Xian could redirect his attacks with ease.
*Useless fool!*
Nightwing cursed silently when he saw Scott injured by his own attack. Still, he spun around and leaped into the air, shearing off the arrowhead with a swing of his blade.
Landing back on the ground, he quickly sliced apart the closing silver threads to buy Scott time to treat his wound.
Scott yanked out the headless shaft from his foot, kicked off his shoe, and raced against the clock to spray a healing mist over the wound before slipping on a fresh shoe.
The entire process took only about four to six seconds. Once finished, the two resumed their push in seamless coordination.
Their tacit understanding did not stem from long-term partnership or familiarity, but from vast combat experience that granted them a shared tactical instinct—an unspoken consensus.
Both of them now knew the enemy was in the air. The problem was that neither possessed flight.
Among Transcendents, flight was not exceptionally rare, but it was far from universal. Roughly thirty percent could fly under their own power; another twenty percent could fly using technology paired with their abilities or by riding pets; the remaining half were confined to running on the ground.
Scott and Nightwing had anti-air methods, but without flight, their margin for error was slim. Both men sprinted forward while searching for an opportunity to counterattack.
Furthermore, any counterattack had to be swift, precise, and ruthless.
Otherwise, their strikes could be redirected back onto themselves at any second—Scott's skewered foot was proof enough.
Chapter 65