"Fellow Daoist speaks truly, but I have no intention of giving up my concubine. I'm afraid I'll have to challenge you instead." Han Li spoke with perfect composure. Without another word, he released his spiritual sense outward, and a terrifying aura erupted forth. Simultaneously, something shot violently toward the opposite side.
"Bring it on!"
Marquis Nanlong showed not the slightest fear. Instead, he bellowed loudly and released his own spiritual sense in return. Two streams of invisible force, each nearly visible to the naked eye, collided and detonated in the empty space between them. A violent gale immediately surged outward in all directions.
At the sight of this, Marquis Nanlong was secretly alarmed. The spiritual sense he had been using to probe had instantly expanded several times over.
The sound of explosions rang out ceaselessly, one after another. Layer upon layer of fierce wind formed a misty white current that swept both men into its vortex without touching the ground. Their figures blurred in an instant, fading into two motionless dark shadows high in the sky.
"Spiritual sense taking tangible form! How is that possible? Junior Brother Han's spiritual sense — it's this powerful?!" Elder Lu, watching from below, couldn't help but cry out in shock, his face a picture of utter disbelief.
"Spiritual sense taking tangible form? Can the Young Master win against him?" Mu Peiling asked, unable to contain herself. Though she didn't understand the term, she couldn't help but ask.
"I'm not sure either. In theory, the ability to give spiritual sense tangible form is a divine power that only cultivators at the mid-stage Nascent Soul realm can master through the sheer strength of their spiritual sense. For Junior Brother Han to be able to manifest it now… could it be that his primary cultivation technique is focused on spiritual sense refinement? That must be it — it's the only explanation that makes sense." Elder Lu began by answering Mu Peiling's question, but by the end he was murmuring to himself.
"If that's the case, then the Young Master has a fighting chance, doesn't he?" Mu Peiling, disregarding Elder Lu's rambling, pressed on with hope in her eyes.
"That's hard to say. You must understand that even among cultivators of the same Nascent Soul stage, there are vast differences in strength. Marquis Nanlong entered mid-stage Nascent Soul three hundred years ago. Although he remains at that level to this day, there's no question he has cultivated to the very peak of the mid-stage — he's only a single step from the late stage. For Junior Brother Han to defeat that old monster… it will be exceedingly difficult." Elder Lu's expression was uncertain as he spoke.
Hearing this, the sliver of hope that had just risen in Mu Peiling's heart immediately turned to ice.
At that moment, the explosions overhead grew ever more dense. The fierce winds they generated, spinning ceaselessly, eventually formed an enormous white cyclone that completely swallowed both combatants within.
This drew another soft gasp from Elder Lu.
"Hm! I can't believe it — Junior Brother Han isn't losing ground at all." His face wore an expression of utter astonishment.
Mu Peiling's spirits soared at the words, and her lips parted to ask something more.
But then a blinding white flash erupted across the sky, followed by a crystalline thunderclap. The misty white cyclone that had enclosed them suddenly detonated. The berserk gale surged outward in every direction.
Mu Peiling and the others, dozens of zhang below, saw the oncoming white tempest bearing down upon them, and their faces drained of color.
"Not good!"
Elder Lu let out a low shout, flashed forward to shield Mu Peiling with his body, and simultaneously swept both hands in an arc. A blue protective barrier materialized before them, enveloping them both within.
In that brief instant, the ferocious gale had already slammed into the barrier.
Groaning, creaking sounds rang out in rapid succession. The front face of the thick barrier buckled inward by several inches upon contact, as though struck by a battering ram, just as the wind swept past.
Fortunately, the gale was only a scattered remnant. The bulk of it slid past on either side of the barrier, and the dented surface returned to normal within moments.
Elder Lu's face flashed blue as he withdrew the barrier.
Meanwhile, not far away, Marquis Nanlong's golden halberd guards faced the oncoming gale with military precision. In unison they raised their golden halberds, and a vast sheet of golden light materialized above their heads like an enormous golden shield, protecting them along with the beast-drawn carriage at their center.
But even so, the golden light held for only a moment before shattering. The residual gale swept through, and the warriors — men and women alike — clutched their heads in agony, screaming in pain. Blood began to seep from their seven orifices, their faces twisted in horror.
Only the two palace-robed female cultivators seated in the beast-drawn carriage remained unharmed, shielded by the carriage's protective wards.
But their faces had gone deathly pale, eyes wide with panic.
At the sight of all this, Mu Peiling drew in a sharp breath. She gazed up at the sky where Han Li's figure had reappeared, and stared, transfixed.