I Shall Seal the Heavens

Chapter 63: Another Wave Rises Up!

A boom rolled out. The giant mist hand had been created by the combined effort of two eighth-level Qi Condensation disciples from the Winding Stream Sect. Meng Hao by himself couldn’t possibly stand up to it directly. This was why he had used the second most mysterious items in his bags of holding, the wooden swords. The first most mysterious item was, of course, the copper mirror.

The wooden swords, which had been the object of Wang Tengfei’s desire, now flew out from Meng Hao’s hand. They slashed through the giant mist hand and proceeded toward the two Winding Stream Sect disciples.

The swords didn’t emit a powerful sword aura, but as they flew through the air, they sucked in the surrounding spiritual energy in a roiling current. Shocked, the two Winding Stream Sect disciples evaded immediately. Without so much as a cold snort, Meng Hao shot off into the distance.

The wooden swords circled back to him. He didn’t even look back, just increased his speed forward.

Behind him, Elder Brother Liu’s eyes narrowed, and the avarice in his eyes grew even stronger.

“This Meng character has way too many magical items. Those wooden swords are incredibly mysterious. It just goes to prove that the spear the Violet Fate Sect was after is incredibly extraordinary! But why hasn’t he used its power yet?” Elder Brother Liu’s eyes flickered as he continued in pursuit. Similar to Meng Hao, he did not have the ability to sustain long-term flight, but needed magical assistance to soar.

Sun Hua and the other Winding Stream Sect disciples had dark looks on their faces. This was especially true of Zhou and Xu. With cold harrumphs, they shot off in pursuit. Sun Hua clenched his jaw and followed them. Zhou and Xu transformed into multicolored streaks of light as they shot off in mid-air. They kept their distance from the Cold Wind Sect’s Elder Brother Liu, but continued in pursuit of Meng Hao.

Meng Hao had a grim expression on his face. He knew that Elder Brother Liu from the Cold Wind Sect had not even really made a move yet. With the appearance of Sun Hua and the others, he now had two waves of Cultivators to deal with. He frowned.

“I just don’t have enough Spirit Stones,” thought Meng Hao somberly. “If I had enough, I could have duplicated a Heavenly Spirit Pill and broken through to the ninth level of Qi Condensation... If I were at the ninth level, these people wouldn’t dare to pursue me.

“It seems I might have to go sell some of my treasures after all...” Meng Hao had thought of using the copper mirror to duplicate some of the magical items, then selling them. But the State of Zhao was small, and only had a few Sects. If he started selling magical items, then later used an identical magical item, it would arouse suspicion.

As he muttered to himself, conflicted, his eyes suddenly filled with determination. He dropped to the ground and began running, swallowing some Earthly Spirit Pills until his body was filled with plentiful spiritual power. Then, he jumped back onto the treasured fan and shot onward. Unfortunately, there were many mountains in this area, but few demonic beasts. The ones that he did see were weak, making it impossible for him to use his usual tactic to evade pursuit.

As he was trying to figure out what to do, the two Winding Stream Sect Disciples, Zhou and Xu, suddenly made incantation patterns. Another whistling sound rang out from the flutes beneath their feet.

It sounded out like a wailing spirit, circling around the two of them as their fingers flickered.

“Heavenly Thunder Spirit!”

As the words rang out, a fierce wind sprung up around Meng Hao, and black clouds appeared in the air. Lightning began to crackle within the clouds, then shot toward Meng Hao.

A look of shock appeared on his face, as this was the first time he had dealt with a lightning bolt attack such as this. He stamped his foot down onto the treasured fan, and immediately, ten feathers flew up, overlapping across each other. The lightning bolt slammed into them.

A thunderous sound rolled out, sending the feathers spinning. The lightning bolt had been created by the combined effort of two Qi Condensation Cultivators. Although it didn’t contain the power of heaven and earth, it was not weak, and as far as Meng Hao was concerned, was actually quite powerful.

His face drained of blood, he looked back, killing intent flickering in his eyes. The attack had not been strong enough to cause him to spit up blood, but at the moment, his spiritual energy was unstable.

“An excellent Heavenly Thunder Spirit,” said Elder Brother Liu coolly, his eyes flashing. “The Winding Stream Sect’s lightning bolt magic is very refined. Sadly, your Cultivation base isn’t high enough. Even with your combined efforts, the result is this. Were you stronger, he would be injured if not dead.” Despite his talk, he didn’t make any move on Meng Hao. Having fought with him already, he knew that he had a multitude of magical items. He’d decided that the best thing to do would be to rely on his own profound Cultivation base to exhaust his opponent, then attack.

He was happy to see the others attack him, forcing Meng Hao to use up his spiritual power.

“We haven’t finished with the magical technique,” said the Winding Stream Sect disciple surnamed Xu. “Don’t shoot your mouth off so much, Liu Daoyun!” Exchanging a glance, the partners each swallowed a medicinal pill and then began making incantation patterns, their fingers moving in unison.

Immediately, the black cloud roiling in pursuit of Meng Hao began to churn. Again, lightning began to form. A massive roar rumbled out across the land, and again the feathers from the treasured fan moved to defend. This time, the lightning didn’t end. Bolt after bolt struck, booming ceaselessly.

In the blink of an eye, three bolts had struck, causing Meng Hao to spit up a mouthful of blood, and the killing intent in his eyes to solidify. He flicked his right sleeve, and the scroll painting appeared. He poured his spiritual power into it and two roars could be heard. Mist seethed, and two mist beasts sprung from the scroll painting, shooting toward Zhou and Xu.

The two men grew pale. They had already consumed medicinal pills to perform their magical art, which was the only technique they had. Even with their combined effort, they could only keep it going for so long. They were discussing this as the fourth lightning bolt struck, which was when the mist beasts emerged from Meng Hao’s scroll painting.

These mist beasts had the appearance of wolves. Heads twisting with fierce howls, they charged the two men, black ripples spreading out from underneath their paws as they ran.

Liu Daoyun stared at Meng Hao with flashing eyes. He lifted his right hand, and at the exact moment that Meng Hao unfurled the scroll painting, and the lightning bolt was about to fall, he bit his tongue and spit out some blood. His fingers flickered, causing the blood to circle around his hand. His face began to glow red. He waved the finger at Meng Hao.

“Qi Condensation, Cold Wind Finger!”

The finger attack came without warning. The red blood suddenly became black and began to emit an intense coldness. In the blink of an eye, it had transformed into a finger made of ice crystal. This in turn transformed into a prismatic beam which shot directly toward Meng Hao. In an instant, it was within about nine meters of him.

The finger attack was cunning and powerful. As it approached, the mist beasts from the scroll painting collided with Zhou and Xu. Above Meng Hao, the fourth lightning bolt began to descend.

Meng Hao felt a sense of critical danger in his heart. A grim smile appeared on Liu Daoyun’s face, and he advanced a pace. Beneath him, a glittering light could be seen as his crystalline sword shot toward Meng Hao.

“Let’s see you dodge this time,” he said, watching with flashing eyes. “You can’t! You must produce your silver spear and show us its might. I’m really looking forward to seeing it!”

Meng Hao’s pupil’s constricted. There was no time to pull out another magical item, so he released the scroll painting to float at his side. It was a critical juncture, with no time even to think. He stamped his right foot down onto the treasured fan. It instantly disassembled, the sixteen feathers transforming into a rain. Ten of them shot toward the crystalline sword, with six remaining behind to defend against the lightning bolt.

To deal with the incoming Cold Wind Finger, Meng Hao dropped toward the ground and then extended his right hand upward. A flame python twenty or thirty meters in length shot out from the center of his palm, rushing to intercept the Cold Wind Finger. At the same time, his left hand flashed an incantation, then waved forward. A Wind Blade emerged, lending its power to the Flame Python, which grew even larger as it shot toward the Cold Wind Finger.

All of this takes some time to describe, but in actuality it happened in the time it takes for a spark to fly up from a piece of flint. A massive boom rang out as the lightning slammed into the six feathers. It was weakened, but it still hit Meng Hao, causing him to vomit up a mouthful of blood.

At the same time, the crystalline sword collided with the ten feathers. A series of explosions could be heard as the feathers were shattered. The sword aura continued on, stabbing through Meng Hao. He coughed up more blood, his body trembling.

Next was the most powerful attack of all, the Cold Wind Finger. Once a lost art, it had been improved to allow Cultivators of the Qi Condensation level to use it. Currently, it could only be used by someone of the ninth level of Qi Condensation.

A boom resounded out. The disparity between the Cultivation base levels was immediately apparent. Despite the considerable combined might of the Flame Python and the Wind Blade, they were still torn to pieces. They managed to destroy about half of the black colored Cold Wind Finger. The rest of it continued on through, stabbing into Meng Hao’s chest. He coughed up even more blood, which instantly turned black and congealed into chunks of ice. His body spun backwards.

Intense coldness filled his body, making him feel as if he were about to freeze. He knew that this was a critical moment. His right hand shot out, and the elusive Hellfighting Spike emerged, along with two banners, which coiled around his body.

Currently, Meng Hao was seriously injured, but hadn’t lost his will to fight back. He gritted his teeth and made to flee. But then something happened that no one had expected, neither the fleeing Meng Hao, nor Liu Daoyun, nor the currently bedraggled Zhou and Xu from the Winding Stream Sect. Suddenly, a third party arrived to join the fight!

An arrow shot forth from the distance, accompanied by a shrill, piercing scream. It flew directly toward Meng Hao, filled with intense killing intent. It clearly was meant to pierce his heart and kill him.

It moved with incredible speed toward him. He suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his chest, whereupon he let out a roar. The two hovering banners moved to block the arrow. An explosion rang out as the banners were shattered. As the arrow continued forward, Meng Hao waved his right hand, sending the Hellfighting spike, which he had originally wanted to use to counterattack, to intercept the arrow.

There was a boom, and Meng Hao spit out more blood. He watched as the black spike disintegrated. The arrow slowed some, but continued on toward him.

He retreated, dropping toward the ground, but finding no place to conceal himself. Even if the few remaining unsheltered feathers caught him and carried him off, there were too few of them. He wouldn’t be fast enough to evade the arrow.

Borrowing some momentum from the explosion of the Hellfighting Spike, Meng Hao took in a ragged breath. A fierce look appeared in his eyes, and he smacked his bag of holding again. A wooden sword appeared. He didn’t even have time to point the sword towards the arrow. It came in so quickly that it slammed into the side of the blade.

Boom!