Chapter Sixty-Four: Song Hai's Strength

The air around them suddenly grew heavy, an oppressive silence falling so completely that even breathing became barely perceptible, broken only by the crackling of the flames surrounding Zhou Yi. The woman in the gauzy veil tensed, eyes fixed intently on Zhou Yi, her thumb pressing slowly and deliberately against the gourd in her hand.

Around Mo Hu, the air seemed to gather and condense, reaching a critical mass; what once was invisible now materialized as wisps of mist. The wooden sword in his hand still appeared unchanged, yet to the eye, it now evoked the image of a towering tree, stretching skyward, its presence immense and overwhelming.

Only Xue Kai stood apart, his eyes wide as if he'd seen a ghost, staring at the two with a look of utter terror. His gaze darted between the veiled woman, Mo Hu, and Song Hai, mouth opening as if to speak, but not a single word could escape his lips.

Xue Kai's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets as he stared at them, inwardly screaming, "Have you all forgotten something? The ones you're supposed to be dealing with aren't one, but two!"

"There's a living, breathing person standing right in front of you—how can you all act as if he doesn't even exist?"

He roared this silently in his mind, desperately masking his unease. True, after unleashing the power of the Flaming Fan, his strength had been depleted; just remaining on his feet was proof of his formidable foundation. But he was still far from being so weak that he couldn't utter a single word.

The real reason he found himself speechless now was because of Song Hai, who stood quietly behind Zhou Yi, like a mere attendant.

In fact, Xue Kai understood that Mo Hu and the veiled woman's peculiar behavior was also because of him. After striking with the fan, convinced of its power, he had been about to sigh in relief, certain Zhou Yi couldn't possibly survive such an attack—unless he had reached the pseudo-core stage, or unless it hadn't been him who unleashed that previous blade of light. Otherwise, Zhou Yi was surely doomed.

But before Xue Kai could even savor that relief, a strange force abruptly seized him, pinning him in place, rendering him powerless to move. Something clogged his throat, making speech impossible.

He watched helplessly as he was demoted from leading actor in this battle to a mere bystander, his presence reduced to nothing.

Mo Hu and the veiled woman seemed oblivious to him, forgetting his existence entirely, each lost in their own plans.

That Zhou Yi had survived an attack he deemed unstoppable astonished Xue Kai. No one knew the Flaming Fan's power better than he. Yet, even such devastating flames had failed to harm Zhou Yi—how could he not be shocked?

But even all that paled in comparison to the shock Song Hai brought him.

It was bizarre—unfathomably bizarre.

A perfectly ordinary man—apart from their initial encounter, they all seemed to forget his presence entirely. Even when someone recalled their mission involved two targets, Song Hai, standing right there, was ignored as if by instinct.

It was like a play: Zhou Yi was the protagonist, and the others mere supporting roles, fading into insignificance after their lines were delivered, their presence barely registering.

It was as if his sole purpose had been to unleash that single strike of flame.

Now that his part was played, it was time for Mo Hu and the veiled woman to step into the spotlight and fulfill theirs.

Xue Kai could almost foresee their fate; it wasn't hard to guess. At that thought, the terror drained from his face, replaced by a blank, expressionless pallor—his once rosy complexion now deathly white, as if painted with the makeup of the dead.

He understood now. All the strangeness, all the unnatural happenings shared a single explanation, their source the same.

His shock, his horror, all stemmed from his unwillingness, his disbelief, his fear.

But when the fear passed, when he had exhausted his resistance and effort to no avail, forced into calm acceptance, he finally believed. He relented. He accepted.

And with that acceptance, the answer appeared: "Pseudo-core!"

Without a doubt, the blade of light they had sensed earlier, that radiated the aura of a pseudo-core, had come from Song Hai, the one they had dismissed as a mere extra. He was, in fact, the pseudo-core legend they had speculated about.

A bitter laugh escaped Xue Kai. His ghastly pallor seemed even more spectral in that moment, a deep helplessness in his voice.

Pseudo-core!

Had they known from the start that one of their targets was a pseudo-core cultivator, would they have dared to make a single move?

No matter how carefully they had prepared, how many resources they gathered, how powerful their treasures, if none of them had reached the pseudo-core level, their mission had been doomed from the very beginning.

Pseudo-core! Among all but those of the same rank, who could possibly contend with such power?

He laughed again, a foolish, self-mocking sound, not even certain why he was laughing.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Zhou Yi, still wreathed in flames. His expression changed abruptly, then he laughed anew. "Perhaps he, with his innate strength, might one day match a pseudo-core. Who knows? After all, he's only just reached the innate stage."

"But I doubt I'll live to see it," Xue Kai thought, suddenly at ease, an outsider now, watching the three as if observing a play.

"Perhaps this is the last scene I will ever witness in my life."

From that moment on, he dared not look at Song Hai again.

Song Hai paid him no heed either, letting him laugh and cry as he pleased, not sparing him even a glance.

...

Name: Zhou Yi
Spirit: 19
Body: 145
Qi: 20,000
Comprehension: Mountain Intent
Cell Count: 9,999 (Second Transformation)
Energy: 8,900
Martial Arts: Reliant Mountain Blade 9/100
Reliant Mountain Heart Technique, Fifth Level (Blue Mountain Realm) 0/100

Zhou Yi stared unblinking at his attribute panel, his gaze fixed on the number following "Energy." The digits flickered rapidly, always changing in the hundreds place, signifying that he was absorbing energy at the rate of hundreds per second.

Encased in flames, agony beyond description lanced through his body with every heartbeat. His central nervous system performed its duty all too well, relaying every shred of pain without respite.

Watching his energy total climb, Zhou Yi's heart leapt with anticipation he could not suppress. His entire being was focused on one thing: reaching energy completion.

But completion did not mean reaching the energy's capacity—rather, it meant reaching ten thousand. Once he had ten thousand, he could increase his body attribute by one point.

The indescribable torment would only abate, even for a moment, when he added a point to his body. That fleeting relief was like finding water after wandering the desert—utterly refreshing.

For him, that moment would be paradise—a slice of heaven amid the torments of hell.