After a brief rest—which really just consisted of Lin Yu changing clothes and Yaolin drinking several bottles of his own blood—the two immediately charged toward the forest ahead, where constant tremors sent up clouds of blood mist.
Instantly, a bone-chilling sense of crisis crept up both their spines. Lin Yu's entire body crackled with electrical light as he suddenly changed direction, moving in a zigzag pattern, while Yaolin drew his blood sword across his palm, soaking it with his own blood before unleashing a powerful slash forward.
The next moment, a massive drill formed from countless sharp paper sheets, carrying large amounts of highly corrosive crimson blood, burst through the layers of trees in the forest and came hurtling through the air, striking where the two had originally been standing.
A flash of sharp crimson sword light split the drill in two. Yaolin, covered in blood and emanating dark red steam, leaped up from between the halved drill with sword in hand. Behind him, the paper drill, having lost its spiritual power support, scattered to the ground as ordinary sheets.
"What the hell is that drunkard doing?!"
Complaining irritably, Yaolin landed and continued rushing forward without stopping.
"Being drunk, obviously."
Lin Yu's voice came from above. After dodging the friendly fire, he'd simply chosen to travel through the open canopy layer—this way, if they encountered the same situation again, he could avoid it in advance.
That was the plan, but Lin Yu changed his mind the very next second.
"Sigh, forget it. I'd better go ahead first. Just thinking about having to watch out for Teacher Wan's stray attacks while traveling gives me a headache. I'll go on ahead—you follow at your own pace."
Without waiting for Yaolin's reply, Lin Yu abruptly stopped, reaching back with his right hand, fingers contracting. A completely ordinary-looking, simple black spear appeared in his grasp.
His left hand quickly formed hand seals as he chanted:
"Thunder Strike Lightning Pierce."
The black-purple lightning wrapping around his body briefly disappeared for an instant. Then, far more powerful and violent electricity than before erupted from Lin Yu's body. Wisps of electrical light flowed uncontrollably like rivers from the corners of his eyes. The next moment, Lin Yu's figure vanished, leaving only the constant crackling in the air and a bolt of lightning extending forward.
Yaolin's face darkened. He then mobilized the blood energy within his body, blood vessels crawling across his sclera as his running speed increased considerably.
"So what if you can run fast?!"
At another location, the ground shook as blood and paper fragments flew everywhere. The small hills, flowers, grass, and trees near the battlefield had long been leveled.
In the air, a humanoid creature about seven or eight meters tall, composed entirely of blood, was wildly swinging its two arms—far longer than its body—spraying forth streams of foul-smelling blood swords.
Before the humanoid creature, a much smaller human figure floated in the air. On his back, he carried the coffin that Feng Lian had originally borne. Below the coffin, a pair of wings made from paper constantly flapped, providing lift and steering power for the spellcaster's flight and maneuvering.
However, facing the corrosive blood swords sweeping toward him like torrential rain, this person made no move to dodge. Instead, like the blood humanoid creature, he waved one arm, sending large flocks of origami birds flying from his sleeves to collide head-on with the incoming bloody downpour.
His other hand gripped tightly to the cord of a wine gourd. Tilting his head back, he raised the gourd to drink, his throat bobbing as clear wine spilled from the corner of his mouth, flowing down to wet his already damp collar.
"Glug, glug... urp... burp... Ah, without my wife around, I can't get motivated. The wine's almost gone too. I say, you fellow, could you just kill yourself already?"
Wanqi Zhuo's stubbled face was already flushed red from alcohol as he mumbled incoherently. He swung the wine gourd, tying it to his left arm with its cord, while forming a sword finger gesture with his other hand and flicking upward.
Countless origami pieces surged out from beneath his dao robe like a flood, quickly turning upward and gathering in the air. They folded and refolded, becoming an indestructible giant origami sword that pierced through the red tide, slashing toward the blood creature.
As the leading teacher for this mission, Wanqi Zhuo naturally possessed solid abilities. However, before encountering the miraculous power of magic, he'd been just an ordinary, unremarkable country person who couldn't even read. Apart from his strange inheritance of unknown origin, Wanqi Zhuo only knew how to craft coffins.
His superiors had arranged for him merely as a backup measure in case of unexpected situations. As a result, this drunkard had simply stayed inside the coffin Feng Lian carried, living in drunken stupor the entire journey, until Feng Lian was teleported away and the coffin hit the ground, finally waking him up.
Then he'd emerged from the coffin and continued drinking.
There wasn't much choice—after all, he could only be useful when able to use spiritual power. Without spiritual power, he was just an ordinary coffin maker.
It wasn't until Lin Yu and the others worked together to break the initial anti-magic array suppressing them that Wanqi Zhuo finally put down his wine gourd, rolled up his sleeves, and swept away the enemy leader along with several dark wizards nearby.
He'd been fighting here ever since. During this time, Lin Yu and Yaolin had tracked them down to provide support. Shortly after, the enemy leader had gone mad and transformed.
So Wanqi Zhuo was troubled—the work that was almost finished was nearly done, but now the enemy had transformed, forcing him to work overtime. What kind of situation was this?
The drunken Wanqi Zhuo swayed unsteadily, but his attacks through origami were absolutely precise. When the transformed dark wizard leader heard his mumbling, he let out an inhuman shriek, erupting with an even more terrifying tide of blood that surged toward Wanqi Zhuo.
However, since what both were saying was now basically incomprehensible to normal people, this was merely ineffective communication.
This space was almost completely filled with two evenly matched colors—red and white.
Until a black-purple lightning bolt pierced through this world.
A large hole was instantly torn through the blood humanoid's chest. The surrounding area crackled with electrical light, the blood turning charred black, temporarily unable to heal toward the center of the hole. Wanqi Zhuo's origami attacks were also pierced through by this lightning bolt.
High in the air, Lin Yu stood suspended with spear in hand, ferocious lightning dancing around his body. In his dark pupils flickered chilling electrical light.
Like the Thunder God descended to earth.
"I say, Teacher Wan, are you really fighting seriously? Why do I feel like this guy has gotten even bigger?"
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