The spear was stained with blood, exuding an overwhelming sense of menace. Looking at Qinglong’s sharp, killing-intent-filled gaze, Tsukahara Bokuden couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, a tingling sensation creeping into his heart.
He had seen that spear strike from Qinglong just now with his own eyes, and he knew very well just how terrifying its power was. Fantian had been killed outright under a single thrust of that spear. If it were him on the receiving end instead?
Tsukahara Bokuden didn’t have a hundred percent confidence that he could take it.
After all, his strength wasn’t much greater than Fantian’s.
But Tsukahara Bokuden was still a Xiantian expert, after all. Having lived for so many years, it was impossible for him to be scared off so easily. He looked at Qinglong and said coldly, “Youxue died years ago. You saw it with your own eyes. Now you hear one side of the story from Yagyuu Munenori and you believe it, and you come to interrogate me—don’t you think that’s ridiculous?”
Qinglong didn’t answer Tsukahara Bokuden’s words. He simply asked again in a stern voice, “Tell me—where is Youxue?!”
Back then, he had indeed seen with his own eyes that Youxue had stopped breathing, that she was truly dead. But he also trusted Yagyuu Munenori—he wouldn’t joke about something like this. At least in his view, it was truly possible that Aoki Youxue was still alive, that she hadn’t died.
Back then, the three of them—him, Fantian, and Yagyuu Munenori—had all loved Aoki Youxue to the extreme. Any one of them would have given their own life for her without hesitation. They all wished that the one who had died back then was themselves, not Aoki Youxue.
That feeling—after all these years, even if it had changed somewhat, it could never be completely erased. Even Fantian still held onto it obsessively, didn’t he?
Since Yagyuu Munenori had mustered the courage to come here, it meant he truly had something to back up his words.
“I told you, Youxue died years ago!” Tsukahara Bokuden’s face also darkened. He said coldly, without the slightest intention of backing down.
“So you refuse to talk! Then I’ll beat you until you do!” Qinglong’s spear in his hand trembled. The very next moment, his body was already charging toward Tsukahara Bokuden.
Having lived in seclusion at the foot of Mount Lu for many years, having been called the Wild Grass Daoist, Qinglong rarely showed anger under normal circumstances. He had always been calm and composed. But now that this matter involved Aoki Youxue, Qinglong immediately lost his composure.
Aoki Youxue was the obsession Yagyuu Munenori had carried for so many years, the knot in his heart he could never let go of. Wasn’t it the same for Qinglong?
And it was even more so for Qinglong—even more intense. His obsession with Aoki Youxue ran deeper than anyone’s. All these years, he had never once been able to let go! Otherwise, he would have long since left the foot of Mount Mao, gone to the capital to see the Tiger King and the fine wine she had brewed.
“Such big talk! You think just because you killed Fantian, you can kill me?” Tsukahara Bokuden roared in fury.
He stomped both feet, and his body immediately leaped into the air. The Xiantian gangqi within him burst forth, not only forming a protective aura around his body, but also forming ring after ring, streak after streak of sharp sword qi, like a torrential rain, stabbing straight toward Qinglong.
Qinglong held the wooden spear in his hand. In that moment, the spear in his grasp transformed into a swimming dragon, as if it had come alive. It spun and circled ceaselessly, converging into a massive circle. The circle was like a black hole, possessing an incredibly powerful suction force. It could draw in all the sword qi thrusting toward it from the front, and ultimately destroy and obliterate them all.
No matter how ferocious Tsukahara Bokuden’s attacks were, under the stirring of this spear, everything vanished without a trace. Not the slightest bit could touch Qinglong.
Spear techniques, like sword techniques, weren’t just about unmatched offensive power. Once one reached a profound enough level, one’s defensive capabilities were equally outstanding—not a single drop could slip through.
Qinglong pressed forward relentlessly with the blood-stained spear in hand, his momentum like a rainbow. Tsukahara Bokuden, meanwhile, kept shifting and retreating through the air, his figure looking somewhat bedraggled.
“Talk! Talk! Where is Youxue?!”
“If you don’t talk today, then your fate will be the same as Fantian’s. This old bone of yours will die right here!” Qinglong roared in a low, furious voice.
“You lunatic! Youxue died long ago! If you want to find her, go find her in the Yellow Springs!”
…
The Lion King, Yagyuu Munenori, and Olivia watched the two battling. Apart from marveling at their ferocity after surviving a catastrophe, they didn’t have any particular emotions. But Jiang Fei was at a bit of a loss as to what to do.
Just now, Qinglong had skewered Fantian to death with a single staff strike, without the slightest room for negotiation. Jiang Fei was awed by the brilliance of Qinglong’s spear technique—it had given him much inspiration for his own swordsmanship. But at the same time, he felt it was such a pity that Fantian, a Xiantian expert, had died just like that!
It was truly too much of a waste!
It was simply squandering a treasure from heaven.
A Xiantian expert was such a rare and hard-to-come-by “experience monster.” If Fantian hadn’t died, and his lifetime of internal energy had been absorbed by the Northern Dark Divine Art, then Jiang Fei’s Northern Dark Divine Art internal power would have surged by at least several years’ worth. It wasn’t even impossible that he could have saved himself ten years of arduous cultivation.
What a pity that such a great opportunity had been skewered to death by Qinglong with a single staff strike.
Now there was only Tsukahara Bokuden, that old undying monster left. But he was his reserved monster. He had already successfully absorbed a bit from him just now, and had already regarded him as a meal on his plate. If Qinglong beat him to it again and skewered him to death with a single staff strike, then Jiang Fei really wouldn’t even be able to find a place to cry.
But Jiang Fei couldn’t exactly go up and help Tsukahara Bokuden fight against Qinglong just because he was afraid Qinglong would skewer Tsukahara Bokuden to death with one strike, could he?
Jiang Fei stared intently at the two battling, not blinking.
Qinglong’s ability to kill Fantian with a single staff strike just now really wasn’t luck—his true strength was already this terrifying. He hadn’t even used that finishing spear move from before, yet he could still completely suppress Tsukahara Bokuden.
From this, one could see that although Qinglong’s cultivation was still at the Xiantian outer-gang level, not yet having stepped into inner-gang strength, it didn’t prevent his strength from surpassing that of ordinary outer-gang experts.
“You really won’t talk? Then don’t blame me for not showing mercy!”
Killing intent blazed in Qinglong’s eyes. The impulse in his heart could no longer be contained. He was preparing to unleash his strongest spear strike, to kill Tsukahara Bokuden just as he had killed Fantian.
Not just because he had heard news of Youxue again, but also because he had thought of all the hatred from back then.
Back then, Tsukahara Bokuden had not only gravely wounded him, but was also the murderer who killed Youxue. Even though Youxue had ultimately told them not to avenge her, how could Qinglong not have kept it in his heart?
Weng!
Qinglong’s figure suddenly stopped. The hand gripping the spear also shifted into a very strange posture. This was the prelude to him about to unleash his killing move.
Seeing this, Tsukahara Bokuden was greatly alarmed. His eyes turned sinister and ruthless. He stubbornly refused to speak, preparing to meet force with force and see just how formidable Qinglong’s move really was.
It was Jiang Fei who raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back any longer. He quickly stepped forward, about to speak and tell Qinglong to stop. Even if Tsukahara Bokuden was to be killed, could he leave it to him to do the killing?
Such a Xiantian expert who had cultivated for over sixty years—killing him just like that was truly squandering a treasure from heaven!
However, before Jiang Fei could say anything, a leisurely voice, brimming with a woman’s soft, sweet warmth, drifted over from the distant pavilion: “Hold your spear…”
Hearing this voice, Qinglong—who had just been full of killing intent and about to strike—froze. His face was filled with disbelief. His eyes stared fixedly ahead, and he looked as though he were about to burst into tears!
Qinglong struggled for a long time, muttering to himself, yet he never managed to open his mouth and say a single word, a single syllable.
