Just as he was about to leap forward to catch the falling child, an intense gust of wind rushed toward him!
It came without warning or prelude.
A ceaseless, torrential downpour of silver needles, endless and all-encompassing, descended upon him like a storm.
Zhan Zhao’s long sword surged upward, its brilliance flaring. The sword’s arc sent thousands of silver needles scattering, reflecting the light as they spun outward.
But the needles kept coming. They seemed inexhaustible, weaving together like a dense curtain of rain—a luminous shroud enveloping Zhan Zhao.
In an instant, the shroud swallowed his figure.
Zhong Xiong’s face turned pale, devoid of all color. After a long moment, his eyes filled with a cold, merciless expression. “It’s undoubtedly the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles from the Shura Sect. Only this weapon could force even the most skilled martial artist in the world into helplessness.”
The Iron Blood Guard leader responded, “I’ve heard that once the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles is unleashed, there isn’t a single person alive who can avoid it.”
Zhong Xiong nodded. “That’s correct. While the Apricot Blossom Rain is fierce, it’s still possible to dodge its attacks after it’s launched. But the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles offers no such chance—once unleashed, there is no escape.”
The Iron Blood Guard leader asked, “What I don’t understand is, if the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles is truly inescapable, how did Zhan Zhao manage to avoid it? Could his martial arts skills really be that extraordinary?”
Zhong Xiong’s gaze was filled with admiration as he replied slowly, “He avoided it because he was already on alert before the weapon was even launched. At that moment, Mo Zhenren was still some distance away from him.”
The Iron Blood Guard leader frowned. “But I clearly saw no indication or warning when the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles was activated.”
Zhong Xiong’s expression grew more contemplative, and he said, “You’re correct. The Storm of Pear Blossom Needles does not give any warning when it is unleashed. However, Zhan Zhao had already witnessed Mo Zhenren’s techniques before.”
—The first time was during the battle in the Chong Xiao Tower.
—The second time was the Apricot Blossom Rain.
Zhong Xiong continued with a note of admiration in his voice, “Just those two encounters were enough for him to understand.”
As he spoke, the air filled with the crackling of rapid impacts, like firecrackers bursting, interwoven with the resonant hum of the sword.
The Storm of Pear Blossom Needles was not only far more powerful than the Apricot Blossom Rain, but its ingenious construction allowed it to fire continuously in waves instead of exhausting its payload all at once.
The scattered silver needles vanished upon hitting the ground, leaving no trace behind.
The Iron Blood Guard stood aghast. “Such a tiny silver needle can pierce the ground so effortlessly? If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it.”
Zhong Xiong replied, “It’s because of its incredible speed. That’s what makes its power so terrifying. Even with a sword as sharp as Zhan Zhao’s—capable of slicing through iron as if it were mud—he’s unable to gain the upper hand against the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles.”
The Iron Blood Guard leader asked, “Does that mean the only way to escape is to wait until all the needles in the mechanism have been fired?”
Zhong Xiong shook his head. “By that time, it would already be far too late.”
Zhan Zhao’s forehead was now glistening with sweat.
He understood Mo Dao’s intent all too well.
The Shura Sect elder had brought forth a relentless barrage of hidden weapons and had even unleashed the ultimate treasure of the sect, the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles, all to pin him down.
Under the oppressive assault of the Storm of Pear Blossom Needles, Zhan Zhao’s swordsmanship could no longer extend its protection to others.
—Meanwhile, the soldiers of the Xiang Yang Prince’s troops near the green-robed Daoist had vanished.
—Under the cover of Mo Dao’s Storm of Pear Blossom Needles, they had broken free from the reach of Zhan Zhao’s swordsmanship.
Their destination? The group of civilians Zhan Zhao had just rescued from the Yan Mei Er formation.
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