Chapter Seven: The Assault

After Zhao Yintian’s assault missed its mark, he immediately understood what had happened and adjusted his stance. The attack he’d been so certain would land had ultimately failed, which inevitably shook his confidence. Yet fortunately, he was no greenhorn; such a setback wouldn’t crush him. He quickly collected himself, knowing this was no time for hesitation—they were in the midst of a test with no seconds to spare.

Every fleeting moment was crucial; a single lapse in this contest could mean defeat. If he truly lost to his opponent, the humiliation would be immense. While Zhao Yintian was thinking this, Zhao Yuan was making her own calculations. She’d just witnessed the second attack—though she had evaded it, its power was unmistakable.

She compared their strengths and knew her own limits well. In her current state, she had no chance of victory. “It seems I’ll have to think of another way,” Zhao Yuan muttered to herself, her mind racing for a solution.

After Zhao Yintian realized his attack had been anticipated and countered, his thoughts were in turmoil, but he soon regained composure. Since the first strike had been launched, the second must follow without delay. The first had been predicted, but the second might not be. Seizing the initiative was the only sensible choice; otherwise, he’d merely give his opponent more time to prepare.

Zhao Yuan knew this as well. Since her opponent saw through her tricks, it was only logical to deduce she lacked the strength to face him head-on—otherwise, she wouldn’t resort to such petty tactics. True strength could sweep aside all else. It was only because she was outmatched that she had to rely on cunning; otherwise, how could she survive?

In that split second, however, a solution came to her. The bloodline of the Wild Bull coursed within her veins, no mere bluff. If she didn’t invoke its power at such a critical moment, should she wait until she was dead? Of course not.

With a fierce shout, Zhao Yuan unleashed the power of the Wild Bull’s bloodline. The effect was immediate.

She could feel the surge of power within her, as if her very blood were boiling—a sensation beyond words. While her strength and spirit were at their peak, she charged at Zhao Yintian. If her blow landed, he would be in grave danger.

“Damn!” Zhao Yintian exclaimed, seeing the sudden change in Zhao Yuan’s demeanor. He realized at once that he couldn’t take this attack head-on—the consequences would be severe.

But with the Wild Bull’s power now awakened, Zhao Yuan’s assault was not so easily avoided. Evading it would be no simple matter.

Number Two had no choice but to muster all his strength to defend against the blow. Fortunately, his reputation was not built on empty praise; his true skill allowed him to withstand the attack.

Yet as he felt the force and weight of it, Zhao Yintian understood that Zhao Yuan’s current state was far from ordinary. At the same time, the fierce spirit within him was kindled—finding a worthy opponent was a rare joy.

“Hahaha! Wonderful! I was worried this fight wouldn’t be satisfying, but now I can go all out,” Zhao Yintian laughed heartily, then launched a truly merciless assault on Zhao Yuan, each strike more ferocious than the last.

In truth, he hadn’t been holding back before—Zhao Yuan’s sudden surge in strength had simply stirred his fighting spirit.

Zhao Yuan, meanwhile, never expected to defeat Zhao Yintian so easily. She focused intently on the duel, the two exchanging blows with great vigor—a punch here, a kick there, a lively contest.

In the end, they fought to a standstill, neither gaining the upper hand for some time. After all, the Wild Bull’s bloodline was no ordinary gift, and Zhao Yintian’s power was genuine.

Zhao Yintian was a Six-Star bloodline inheritor, known as the Demon Star Slayer—a title that spoke for itself.

But Zhao Yuan had no intention of entangling herself with Zhao Yintian indefinitely. She was still surrounded; though they were evenly matched for now, neither could maintain peak form forever. If she exhausted herself, defeat would be inevitable.

Once Zhao Yintian was spent, the others around them—his allies—would be ready. But for her, exhaustion meant capture. That would spell failure. She couldn’t allow that to happen. The outcome of her duel with Zhao Yintian mattered less than her escape.

It wasn’t an easy task, but it wasn’t impossible either. Soon, Zhao Yuan found a possible means of escape. It was a risky plan, but if it worked, she could break free.

She decided to try; staying would only worsen her predicament. Thus, she continued sparring with Zhao Yintian, focusing not on victory, but on executing her plan to escape without being caught.

Her plan was simple: she would feign defeat, allowing herself to be knocked into the crowd. Her sudden fall would cause panic and force the encircling group to scatter, breaking the formation and presenting her a chance to escape.

It was not a perfect plan, as the crowd might retreat inwards, keeping the encirclement intact. Reality always complicates plans, but nothing would change if she only thought and never acted. If it failed, she would simply try again.

Having made up her mind, Zhao Yuan began to gradually weaken her attacks, making it appear as if she was nearing her limit.