Shu Wanqing seethed with fury, yet let out a raspy, mocking laugh: "Boy, shall I take this as you throwing in the towel? Afraid of being captured and tortured bit by bit, so you've given up entirely — hoping that in my rage I'll strike you dead in one blow?"
"I'll say this much — you're far too naive. Falling into my hands, and you think you can die easy? You think that's possible?"
Shu Wanqing's tone dripped with venomous spite.
Strictly speaking, he bore no irreconcilable grudge against Jiang Chen. Yet he simply detested him — loathed him with every fiber of his being. Everything about this young man made his skin crawl.
For that sake, he had not hesitated to stoop so low as to serve the Wind Cloud Sect's master, even risking himself to ambush the prince of the Ku Man tribe's Gu Nuo clan, redirecting the catastrophe eastward.
In truth, Shu Wanqing refused to admit even to himself that his hatred was rooted in pure jealousy. He resented the fact that Jiang Chen, as humanity's leader, had stolen his thunder.
He was a Celestial-level powerhouse. He was the one who should have been humanity's leader. He should have been the figure the entire human race looked to.
Even though he couldn't care less about the fate of humanity, he believed that since he had emerged from seclusion, all attention should revolve around him.
Even if he refused to shoulder the burden of humanity's destiny, he didn't want Jiang Chen shouldering it either.
Because Jiang Chen, standing as humanity's leader and bearing the weight of its fate, was an offense — a slap in the face — to a Celestial-level powerhouse like himself.
Wouldn't the world think that this so-called Celestial powerhouse was useless, while a mere youth was the one actually doing anything?
It was, without question, a profoundly twisted mindset. He himself would do nothing, yet he refused to let anyone else act either — they were stealing his spotlight and damaging his face.
Jiang Chen's expression was coolly detached, a faint smile of contempt playing at the corner of his lips. Clearly, this so-called reclusive human powerhouse had left him utterly disappointed.
Jiang Chen had once harbored some hope — the human domain was vast, after all, and there had to be a cadre of hidden experts somewhere. But after witnessing Shu Wanqing, every last shred of that hope and expectation had turned utterly hollow.
If every hidden powerhouse in the world was cut from this same cloth, Jiang Chen wished they would just perish and be done with it.
It was Xiahou Jing who stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Jiang Chen with a look of meaningful interest.
"Jiang Chen, last time in Radiant Celestial City you played me for a fool. Today, on my Wind Cloud Sect's own turf, I've returned the favor. Consider us even. However — you owe me quite a few of my closest followers' lives. That debt, we need to settle properly."
When it came to hatred, Xiahou Jing's loathing for Jiang Chen absolutely surpassed Shu Wanqing's.
Shu Wanqing's was merely a base, visceral dislike and rejection. Xiahou Jing's was born of genuine blood enmity.
"And how do you propose to settle it?" Jiang Chen's tone was flat.
"What do you think — if I brought your head before the Radiant Celestial City army's ranks, how would that look?" Xiahou Jing asked with a sinister chuckle.
"You don't dare kill me," Jiang Chen said, shaking his head. "Kill me, and with nothing but this rabble of yours, how exactly would you stand against the Ku Man tribe?"
Xiahou Jing burst into hearty laughter: "Who says I intend to fight the Ku Man tribe? Why on earth would I fight them?"
Jiang Chen's eyes narrowed to slits: "So then — you came from the Abyssal Islands to the human domain purely to destroy it. You couldn't care less whether humanity lives or dies."
"You've got it right. I am a descendant of the ancient progenitors, the true orthodox lineage of humanity. Every last one of you in the human domain is a cast-off inferior breed from antiquity. With you all dead, how can the true human orthodoxy ever be restored?" Xiahou Jing's voice had grown heated.
"Orthodox lineage? A bunch of deserters, a band of cowards — and they dare call themselves the orthodox line? It's enough to make one laugh his teeth out." Jiang Chen shook his head.
"Enough — no need for more talk. Whatever tricks you have, bring them on." Jiang Chen let his eyelids droop, as though the perilous situation he found himself in was of no real concern.
Seeing him like this only infuriated Xiahou Jing further.
"Boy, you're on the verge of death and still you refuse to repent." Xiahou Jing had no particular desire to trade barbs with Jiang Chen.
His true goal was to capture Jiang Chen alive.
In the current situation, Xiahou Jing believed killing Jiang Chen would require not the slightest effort. But for their purposes, a living Jiang Chen was far more valuable than a dead one.
Xiahou Jing shot a sidelong glance at Shu Wanqing. Shu Wanqing understood at once.
In a flash, Shu Wanqing closed the distance in a single step — his movement ethereal and dreamlike — and in the span of a heartbeat, seven or eight copies of himself materialized.
"Phantom Clone Technique?"
Jiang Chen's Evil Golden Eye flared to life instantly, piercing through the illusion and seeing Shu Wanqing's technique for what it was.
But Shu Wanqing's immense Celestial-level pressure came crashing down like a mountain, nearly crushing the breath from Jiang Chen's lungs.
"Boy — feel the full extent of your weakness!" Shu Wanqing's voice echoed from every direction.
That Celestial pressure bore down like the mysterious force of heaven and earth itself, commanding the movement of all matter across the void.
Wave after wave of powerful spiritual currents surged toward Jiang Chen's sea of consciousness.
Shu Wanqing's intent was unmistakable — to crush Jiang Chen simultaneously in body and soul, to break him utterly, to make him collapse without a fight.
But Jiang Chen was ready.
He had anticipated this. The instant Shu Wanqing's phantom clones surged into motion, Jiang Chen raised his hand and a cascade of extraordinary light erupted from his palm.
In the next moment, that radiant light unfurled like a vast, magnificent painting being rolled open.
Mysterious scrolls expanded across the void, stretching endlessly outward, layer upon layer, folding the fabric of space into one impossible pocket dimension after another.
"What's happening?"
Every onlooker felt the scene shift before their eyes. By the time they realized what had occurred, the surrounding void had become utterly incomprehensible — they had been swept into a fractured spatial layer formed by those enigmatic scrolls.