After binding with a genius, I became an immortal by exploiting loopholes.

Chapter 124 Battle

The moonlight shone on her profile. He had seen that face several times on the ridges of the fields at the end of the village. She had helped him pull weeds, brought him herbal tea, and asked him about spiritual plants. She spoke softly and acted with courtesy and propriety.

At this moment, she was calmly scanning her surroundings, her gaze sharp, a stark contrast to her demeanor during the day.

"That's... Han Shuang?"

Zhou Ming's voice was extremely low, filled with disbelief.

He stared wide-eyed at the silhouette in the moonlight, "How could she—"

'

Liu Wenhua didn't speak, but just stared in Han Shuang's direction, his lips pressed into a line.

Wang Youde opened his mouth, then after a long pause, managed to squeeze out, "Isn't she a rogue cultivator? How come she's with this group of people?"

Zhao Demao did not answer.

He watched as Han Shuang efficiently directed the others to stay on guard, his face darkening to the point of being sullen.

Half a month ago, he personally promised to let her stay. Although he secretly asked Wang Fu to keep an eye on her movements, after half a month, all Wang Fu reported were trivial things such as "Miss Han helped Manager Zhou pull weeds", "Miss Han helped Manager Liu record the growth of spiritual herbs", and "Miss Han helped wash dishes in the canteen".

He gradually realized that a rogue cultivator in the Qi Refining stage really couldn't cause any trouble.

Now, she knows every road in his manor by heart and has memorized the location of Lu Qingchen's protective spirit field. With a single dose of incense, she can come and go as she pleases throughout the entire Qingmu Manor.

"Now is not the time to think about these things."

Zhao Demao withdrew his gaze, forcing himself to suppress the slight embarrassment, and said in a deep voice, "Prepare to make a move. When they concentrate on attacking the formation, listen to my command and attack together."

As the scarred man braced himself for his next attack, and the others focused their attention on the energy shield, Zhao Demao's gaze turned cold, and he barked, "Attack!"

He was the first to rush out, his hands forming a hand seal, and a beam of earth-yellow spiritual light shot out from his palms, heading straight for the scarred man.

The scarred man was forced to stop his attack and dodged to the side. The earth magic grazed his shoulder and exploded in the ground, creating a shallow crater.

His expression changed drastically: "There's an ambush!"

At the same time, Zhou Ming gave a low shout, and the Azure Wood Ruler flew out, its body drawing an azure arc in the air as it attacked the agitated man.

Liu Wenhua and Wang Youde followed closely behind, each using their magic to attack the other attacker from two directions.

The attackers were thrown into disarray.

They originally thought the entire Aoki Manor was still asleep, never expecting that six people would suddenly appear.

Lu Qingchen did not engage in a direct confrontation.

He lowered his breath, hiding in the shadows beside the woodshed, his right thumb hooking his middle finger, slowly gathering the wood elemental energy in his dantian.

A faint blue light emanated from his fingertips, so weak that it was almost imperceptible in the chaotic battlefield.

While Zhao Demao was entangled in a fight with the scarred man, an attacker at the sixth level of Qi Refining was about to launch a sneak attack on Zhao Demao's back from the side.

Lu Qingchen seized the opportunity, raised his right hand, and a burst of blue light suddenly appeared at his fingertips. A half-foot-long blue sword aura shot out silently, almost invisible in the night.

The sword energy struck the attacker's wrist precisely, causing him to groan as the magical weapon nearly slipped from his grasp.

What's more troublesome is that the sword energy lingered in the meridians of his wrist, continuously disrupting his spiritual energy circulation. His arm twitched involuntarily, slowing down all subsequent attacks by half a beat.

The scarred man shouted, "There are others lurking in the shadows! Watch out!"

But at that moment, no one had time to look for the attacker hiding in the shadows.

Zhao Demao's offensive was like a storm, unleashing earth-based spells one after another, each carrying the oppressive aura unique to peak Qi Refining cultivators. The scarred man was already struggling to cope with just the direct attacks.

Sun Zhiyuan was assigned to the furthest side position, and his task was to assist Liu Wenhua in restraining an attacker.

Liu Wenhua used metal-based magic to suppress his opponent head-on, waiting for Sun Zhiyuan to flank him from the side and form a pincer attack.

However, Sun Zhiyuan's hand holding the spirit bamboo staff trembled slightly, and he hesitated to catch up.

Taking advantage of the moment Liu Wenhua was waiting, the attacker suddenly broke free from his restraints and fired a fireball at Liu Wenhua.

Caught off guard, Liu Wenhua was forced back several steps. The golden light on his spirit hoe dimmed slightly, and a patch of his robe was scorched, filling the air with a burnt smell.

On the other side, Wang Youde was single-handedly holding off Han Shuang's attacks.

Han Shuang used an extremely tricky water-based technique; the water arrows were as thin as silver needles, with tricky angles and extremely fast speed.

Wang Youde fought desperately to defend, and seeing Zhou Ming being attacked from both sides, he anxiously shouted, "Old Sun! Why don't you go for it!"

Sun Zhiyuan's face turned pale, and his hand holding the spirit bamboo staff trembled even more violently.

He took a hesitant step forward, then retreated, his lips trembling and sweat rolling down his forehead.

Zhao Demao caught a glimpse of Sun Zhiyuan's hesitation out of the corner of his eye and shouted angrily, "Sun Zhiyuan! What are you doing!"

Sun Zhiyuan gritted his teeth and finally activated his spirit bamboo staff to rush forward.

But it was too late.

Han Shuang had already noticed this most chaotic position. With one hand forming a hand seal, three silver needle-like water arrows shot out in a triangular formation, aiming straight for Wang Youde from the flank.

Wang Youde had no time to defend himself and was thrown backward by the shock, his back slamming heavily onto the bluestone pavement. He rolled two or three times before coming to a stop.

He let out a painful groan, a trickle of blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. He struggled several times before he could barely manage to kneel up on the ground.

Zhou Ming's expression changed drastically. He fought back with all his might to force back his opponent, but another person had already closed in. His left arm was slashed open by a wind blade, and blood flowed down his forearm.

He groaned, stubbornly refusing to retreat, but the light on the Azure Wood Ruler had dimmed considerably.

Zhao Demao had no choice but to return to the front lines to help him. A wall of earth suddenly rose up, forcing Han Shuang back, and at the same time, he reached out and pulled Wang Youde up from the ground.

Sun Zhiyuan froze on the spot, his spirit bamboo staff drooping in his hand.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but when he met Wang Youde's expression as he clutched his chest and coughed up blood, it felt like something was blocking his throat.

The scarred man gradually regained his composure from his initial panic.

He glanced across the battlefield and immediately understood—these spiritual plant cultivators had no premeditation; it was a hastily organized counterattack. Because their coordination was chaotic, it was full of loopholes.

Even so, the numerical advantage is real, and Zhao Demao, who is at the peak of Qi Refining, is becoming more and more ferocious in battle.

What's more troublesome is that the attacker hiding in the shadows always strikes at the most critical moment.

The objective is no longer achievable.

If this drags on any longer, the elders of the Qingxuan Sect may arrive at any moment.

The scarred man gritted his teeth and hissed, "Stop! Prepare to retreat!"

Upon hearing this, the other four immediately retreated while fighting, shrinking their battle line towards the outer perimeter of the village.

The impatient man forced back Zhou Ming, who was closing in, with a wind blade. Han Shuang and the other two quickly moved closer to the scarred man, and the five of them gradually came together, tightening their defensive line again.

Lu Qingchen kept his eyes fixed on the battlefield.

From the moment the attackers withdrew their lines, he was waiting for the perfect opportunity, waiting for the scarred man's attention to be diverted, waiting for an opening to appear on his side and rear.

At this moment, he was hiding behind a pile of straw in the direction of Sun Zhiyuan. This position was almost in a straight line with the side and rear of the scarred man, and the distance was only a few feet.

He glanced at Sun Zhiyuan, who was standing frozen not far away. Sun Zhiyuan's retreat just now almost killed Wang Youde and Liu Wenhua. Lu Qingchen saw that scene clearly.

A thought flashed through my mind like lightning.

Lu Qingchen immediately made a decision, concentrating all his spiritual power at his fingertips. This spiritual power was more solid than in any previous practice. With the support of the third level of Qi Refining spiritual power, the blue light at his fingertips almost solidified, shimmering slightly in the dark night.

Then he adjusted the angle of his sword strike, ensuring that the direction of the strike perfectly aligned with the position where Sun Zhiyuan was standing.

He didn't rush to attack, waiting until the scarred man finished giving the others his hand signals and was about to leap into the air—

Right now.

The sword energy shot out silently.

This sword energy was more solid than the previous ones, and after slicing through several feet, it accurately struck the scarred man's right arm.

The scarred man groaned, a gash appearing on his right sleeve, blood seeping from between his fingers.

He turned his head sharply, his gaze like a knife shooting towards the direction from which the sword energy came.

In that direction, only Sun Zhiyuan stood there, holding the spirit bamboo staff—his face was pale, his body stiff, and the spirit bamboo staff still shimmered with lingering blue spiritual light.

A sharp glint flashed in the scarred man's eyes.

He didn't have time to distinguish whether that sword energy was released by the same person as the previous ones. He only saw the direction from which the sword energy came and saw Sun Zhiyuan standing there with a blue magic weapon in his hand.

This is enough.

"court death!"

He was too fast—Sun Zhiyuan only saw a blur before a figure was already in front of him.

The scarred man unleashed a palm strike, a strike that concentrated all the spiritual power of his ninth level of Qi Refining. The palm wind was cold and carried a faint, suffocating corrosive aura. Wherever the spiritual energy passed, the haystacks within a few feet around him silently collapsed.

The color drained from Sun Zhiyuan's face instantly, leaving only the ever-growing hand in his pupils.

He had no time to hate Lu Qingchen, nor even time to think about why the sword energy had shot out from his direction—he only knew that this palm strike could take his life.

Almost instinctively, he used his spirit bamboo staff to shield himself, and a layer of cyan light shone on the staff, which was a defense he had condensed with all his spiritual power.

But that layer of light was as fragile as paper in the face of the scarred man's palm strike.

Before the palm strike even reached the body, the light shield shattered inch by inch, and the spirit bamboo staff trembled with a mournful cry, its azure light suddenly dimming.

The palm strike landed solidly on Sun Zhiyuan's chest, the sound of bones cracking clearly audible in the quiet night.

Sun Zhiyuan was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, his back slamming into a pile of dry hay behind him, causing a large section of the hay to collapse.

He spat out a jet of blood, and the force of his palm shattered the robe on his chest, revealing a purplish-black palm print underneath, which was at least half an inch deep.

He tried to speak, but only a hoarse hoarse sound came from his throat, and bloody foam kept spilling from the corner of his mouth.