The peach grove was thick with tension. Fake Chong Zhao’s face twisted with annoyance as he pointed his staff at Fan Yue. “I, too, possess a divine constitution. Don’t think you can devour me just because you awakened first!”
“You’re nothing but rotten wood,” Fan Yue retorted coldly. “Devouring you is only natural.”
The fake Chong Zhao, unperturbed by Fan Yue’s aloof demeanor, suddenly let out a sneering laugh. “Stop pretending. Don’t think I can’t see that you’re injured. Otherwise, would I have managed to take her so easily?”
Fan Yue’s expression flickered slightly, feeling the searing heat clawing at his chest. The impostor had indeed noticed the restriction flaring up inside him. Every full moon, the fire within his body attacked his heart, limiting his power to only half its usual strength—barely at the peak of a High Lord.
Bai Shuo, who had been enjoying the show from the sidelines, immediately looked stricken when she saw Fan Yue’s hesitation. You’ve got to be kidding! she thought. This guy’s injured? Why’s he still putting on airs? Just because he’s used to being the big shot? Doesn’t he realize that “laying low” is also a valuable virtue?
The fake Chong Zhao laughed again. “I was planning to devour the girl and then come after you, but since you’ve kindly delivered yourself to me, I’ll just make you both into elixirs!”
“With just you?” Fan Yue scoffed.
With a snarl, the impostor lunged at Fan Yue, swinging his staff toward his forehead. Fan Yue didn’t flinch; a silver chain materialized in his palm, radiating a soft glow. The chain straightened like a spear, flashing with his demonic power, and met the black staff head-on.
Celestial, demonic, and dark energies clashed in the air above the grove. Not far off, Chong Zhao, who was still waiting for answers from Er Yun, turned pale upon feeling the powerful convergence of the three forces.
“Bai Shuo!” he yelled, rushing toward the grove with the bamboo talisman in hand.
“Brother!” Er Yun called out, gritting her teeth as she followed.
Fan Yue’s silver chain clashed against the impostor’s staff, the two locked in a stalemate. Suddenly, the branches of the peach trees came alive, twisting like serpents toward the unsuspecting Bai Shuo. She let out a shrill scream as the branches ensnared her, dragging her deeper into the grove. The bamboo flute around her neck slipped to the ground.
“Help! Demon! Help!” she shrieked.
Fan Yue shot forward, his silver chain slicing through the branches, catching her as she fell. The peach tree let out a moaning sound, its branches retracting instantly. Taking advantage of the distraction, the fake Chong Zhao struck Fan Yue’s shoulder with his staff.
Bai Shuo heard the muffled sound of impact as Fan Yue landed, his face pale. Scrambling to her feet, she quickly climbed down from his arms. “I-I’m down! I’m down!”
Another blow was coming. Fan Yue blocked it with his silver chain and pushed Bai Shuo back. “Run!” he commanded.
A wave of demonic power carried her several feet away. She hesitated, looking back to see Fan Yue and the impostor still locked in battle mid-air, the impostor’s staff inching closer to Fan Yue’s forehead. Her steps faltered.
The fake Chong Zhao’s face twisted with madness. “Originally, I planned to devour that girl to ascend to divinity. But now that you’re here, I’ll devour you instead!” His dark aura flared as he swung his staff toward Fan Yue’s forehead. Just then, a thick, sweet scent filled the air. The glow of the black staff flickered, and he turned in disbelief, only to see Bai Shuo, clinging to a small cloud behind him, holding an open vial and fanning the scent toward him.
The cloying aroma overwhelmed him, and his grip on the staff wavered. His pupils turned entirely black, his face twisted with rage. “You’re dead!” he spat, flinging a wave of dark energy toward her.
With her limited celestial power, Bai Shuo knew she couldn’t dodge in time. Fear flashed in her eyes. Dear heavens, I’m done for. Should’ve slunk away quietly… Who cares about that demon!
Just as the staff was about to strike her, Fan Yue appeared in front of her, taking the blow directly. In the same instant, he summoned a wooden boar from his sleeve, which grew to several feet tall. Its golden wings beat with immense demonic power, smashing into the impostor’s chest and leaving a gaping hole. No blood spilled from the wound; instead, he let out a furious roar and dissolved into a cloud of black mist, scattering.
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