Chapter 42: The Second Form of the Green Lotus Sword Song—Yin-Yang: Frost Sword! Tonight, the wine boils and the sword sings once more.

Zhao Wuji kicked aside the shattered bricks and rubble.

Li Zhixian lay revealed beneath, his body covered in mud and seemingly unconscious. Zhao Wuji did not reach out to seize him; instead, a cold sneer curled his lips. His fist, the size of a sandbag, smashed down toward Li Zhixian's head without any flourish.

Li Zhixian’s tightly shut eyes snapped open.

His feet kicked off the ground with violent force, sliding him several meters away like a fish darting through water.

Boom!

Zhao Wuji’s fist landed where he had been moments before. Gravel sprayed in all directions, leaving a pit two feet deep. Had that blow connected, Li Zhixian’s skull would surely have shattered like a watermelon.

"Old bastard..."

Li Zhixian leaned on the Green Lotus Sword and staggered to his feet. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his icy eyes flickering with gravity.

He had taken this too lightly. Or rather, he had underestimated the heroes of the world. His past record of invincibility had bred a prideful arrogance, a feeling that he was the preeminent figure of his generation. But today’s battle had ruthlessly crushed that arrogance. He had thought his hundreds of life-or-death trials in the Soul Fighting Arena had matured his combat experience, yet against Zhao Wuji, he was completely suppressed. The foundation of an older-generation powerhouse was truly as solid as a rock.

"Li Zhixian..."

Zhao Wuji wiped the rain from his face, a glimmer of genuine admiration appearing in his tiger-like eyes. Setting aside their hostile positions, Li Zhixian was the most outstanding young soul master he had ever seen. Though he was loath to admit it, the Shrek Seven Devils were no match for him.

However, this appreciation vanished in an instant, replaced by an even more intense and cruel murderous intent.

"I cannot let you live!"

The fourth soul ring at Zhao Wuji’s feet lit up with purple light. An invisible aura locked onto Li Zhixian from afar.

"Fourth Soul Skill—Positioning Tracker!"

Zhao Wuji, known for his defense, erupted with terrifying speed. The floor tiles beneath his feet exploded, and his massive frame tore through the air, reaching Li Zhixian in the blink of an eye.

"Die!"

Zhao Wuji’s fist, wrapped in overwhelming force, drove straight for Li Zhixian’s chest!

Li Zhixian’s expression changed drastically; there was no time to dodge! He could only hold his sword horizontally across his chest!

Boom!

The blade of the Green Lotus Sword was bent into an astonishing arc as it slammed into Li Zhixian’s chest.

"Pfft!"

Another mouthful of blood sprayed out, with several scarlet droplets splattering onto Zhao Wuji’s face. The rain washed the blood into winding red trails, making his rough features look even more ferocious.

Li Zhixian, on the other hand, was sent flying dozens of meters, snapping several large trees before crashing heavily into the mud.

"Cough... cough, cough..."

Li Zhixian struggled to prop himself up. Every breath pulled at the needle-like agony in his chest. His face was deathly pale; he looked down slowly to see his sternum collapsed by an inch, with a strange glow of intertwined crimson and azure light faintly visible through the broken bone. If he hadn't cultivated the Melt-Frost Spirit Vessel body, Zhao Wuji’s punch would have killed him.

Staring fixedly at the lethal figure dozens of meters away in the rainy night, Li Zhixian pulled out his Clear Spring wine flask and took a deep, desperate gulp.

As the liquor hit his throat, it transformed into a surging torrent of energy that exploded within him. His heavily damaged body began to repair itself, and his exhausted soul power surged once more. Li Zhixian gripped his sword with his right hand and the flask with his left.

He tilted the flask, pouring the shimmering liquid over the Green Lotus Sword. As the wine soaked into the blade, the sword, which had originally flowed with green light, turned a deep, molten red. Twelve vibrant red lotus flowers bloomed, even manifesting as floating projections upon the surface of the steel.

Hiss—! Hum—!

The wine boiled, and the sword hummed! In this desperate night, the "Boiling Wine, Humming Sword" technique had returned!

Li Zhixian’s hunched back straightened bit by bit. Crimson blood stained his lips, and his white robes were caked in mud, making him look utterly disheveled. But his eyes were terrifyingly sharp.

"Today..."

"Even if I, Li Zhixian, must die, I will tear a piece of flesh from you!"

"Second Soul Skill—Three Swords of Fragrance!"

"Green Lotus Sword Song, First Form—Shake the Light!"

Setting aside elemental attributes, the Shake the Light sword was the sharpest blade Li Zhixian possessed to date. Now, augmented by the Three Swords of Fragrance and the Boiled Wine Humming Sword, this strike transformed into ten thousand cold stars spilled from a celestial terrace!

The dark, green-black sky seemed to be torn open by an invisible hand. A ray of starlight plummeted down; in the ink-like, rainy night, this beam shone like a galaxy, reflecting the falling rain until it looked like billions of woven threads of light.

Zhao Wuji, who had been closing in, suddenly halted his steps. Such a phenomenon made him knit his brows. The dull ache in his arm reminded him of the extraordinary nature of this move.

"Useless struggle!"

The murderous glint in Zhao Wuji’s eyes intensified. At his feet, his seventh soul ring ascended, rapidly growing in size until a deep, black light shrouded the entire forest.

"Seventh Soul Skill—Avatar of the Martial Soul!"

To deal with Li Zhixian, he had actually resorted to his Martial Soul Avatar. It showed just how intense his murderous intent was. The pitch-black light carried the weight of a mountain. As Zhao Wuji stepped forward, his physique expanded rapidly, transforming in the blink of an eye into a giant bear over five meters tall. Dense, golden fur covered his body, and a pair of lantern-sized eyes flashed with violent red light, resembling a moving mountain.

A gale of malice rose from the ground, causing the curtain of rain to tilt and sway. Li Zhixian’s soaked white robes snapped in the wind. He held the Green Lotus Sword high, the tip pointing directly at the ray of starlight descending from the heavens, as if beckoning the power of the stars to descend.

Zhao Wuji stopped and took a defensive stance. However, he soon noticed something unusual.

Cold! A bone-chilling cold! The rainwater falling on his massive body carried an icy intensity that pierced to the marrow.

"Li Zhixian, what kind of trick are you playing?!"

Zhao Wuji charged toward Li Zhixian, the earth shaking with every step. The rain fell like a waterfall, and the world was a chaotic, dark void. Li Zhixian stood in the mud, his white clothes soaked through with blood. Yet, the cold clinging to his skin could not defeat the resolve in his eyes.

Zhao Wuji’s roar shattered the curtain of rain. A fishy stench accompanied by freezing raindrops rushed toward him. Just as Zhao Wuji’s giant palm was about to strike, Li Zhixian flipped his wrist. His sword stance had changed.

Hum—!

The Green Lotus Sword suddenly let out a sharp cry. The blade changed from crimson to a brilliant azure inch by inch, like a glacier breaking, tearing through the rainy night. Where the blade passed, the very air seemed to freeze. The standing water on the ground and the rain pouring from the sky began to flow in reverse, forming thousands of crystalline ice threads that coiled around the sword, condensing into a frost blade several meters long.

The raindrops that had not yet merged with the Green Lotus Sword hung suspended in mid-air. Each droplet reflected the ghostly blue shadow of the sword, like a frozen galaxy.

Li Zhixian stepped on the suspended droplets and leaped into the air. His sleeves fluttered, trailing ice crystals. He swept the blade horizontally toward the giant bear.

Zhao Wuji’s giant palm collided with the frost sword. The moment the cold light exploded, a crisp sound of freezing traveled from the tips of his claws. Frost patterns spread across his golden fur like living things. In an instant, Zhao Wuji was transformed into an ice sculpture.

"Pfft!"

However, the rebound force from the frost sword still struck Li Zhixian like a heavy hammer, sending him flying backward. Even the wrist holding the sword was twisted unnaturally, sending a piercing pain to his heart. Yet, even so, Li Zhixian kept his grip on the hilt, never loosening it in the slightest.

"Who said that just because I called it 'Shake the Light'... I had to use 'Shake the Light'?"

This strike was the second form of the Green Lotus Sword Song—Two Modes: Sword of Frost. In terms of pure lethality, it was inferior to Shake the Light or the Sword of Scorching, but it was Li Zhixian’s only crowd-control sword technique. In this heavy downpour, its power was doubled.

Crack—

Crack—

Just as Li Zhixian managed to steady his stance, countless spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the thick ice covering Zhao Wuji. Shards of ice fell away with a rustling sound.

Li Zhixian immediately turned and fled. He grabbed the Clear Spring flask again, took a large gulp, and swallowed it along with the mouthful of fishy, sweet blood. As he ran, he patted the green treasure pouch tied to his waist. A small herb shaped like a tortoise shell appeared in his hand. Li Zhixian shoved it into his mouth, chewing it up and swallowing it whole.

Tortoise Breath Grass: For three days, the user enters a state of feigned death, masking all signs of life and vitality.

He did not know how far he had run. He only felt as if a fire were burning in his chest. Every breath was agonizing. His injuries were so severe that even his wine-based martial soul could not heal him in the short term.

He bit down hard on his tongue to stimulate the last vestiges of his clarity. Through his blurred vision, Li Zhixian saw the faint outline of a bird's nest nestled in the thick branches of an ancient tree.

Draining his last ounce of strength, Li Zhixian leaped onto the branch and curled into the cold nest, falling silent once more...