166 Untitled (1/2)

Bagu was in a critical situation. At the moment when he jumped up, Bagu flashed open his Ghost Head Claws. Although his Ghost Head Eyes were already destroyed by Zhangsun Wuji, within the depths of his blood-filled sockets still appeared a pair of strange eyes!

However, Meng Fuyao was no longer opposite him; she was waiting for him in his path.

Without any hesitation, she launched into the air, her movements like a flying swallow as she appeared above him upside down in the air, falling towards Bagu like a blazing arrow!

'I'm above you, if you have the skills, then carve some eyes on top of your head as well!'

'Let's meet with our heads and see whose is harder!'

Meng Fuyao sneered as she unleashed her 'heaven-killing' scroll!

Like a wind-summoning flag, the wind began blowing all around the scroll, yet the wind was not some formless wind; it was more like a hurricane, initially glowing a faint white in its epicenter. That was the essence from the inner energies of 'Ascension' and 'Cloud Soul' glowing along her frame, the brilliant and pale white light suddenly shooting out like a fan display. At that moment, everything melted into complete purity, a glistening, milk-like white. Following that, within the wrathful howling of the wind came a flare of utmost brightness.

When the brightness reached its peak, it began to fade, yet the wind grew even stronger several times over!

The ultimate forms of inner energy, 'Daybreak', 'Cloud Soul' and 'Gale' finally came together as one when Meng Fuyao entered the most critical moment.

As the absolute mystic power from the three energies formed as one, under the sun and moon, a hurricane broke forth!

With a deafening howl, Pei Yuan and Ya Lanzhu, who were desperately crossing swords with each other, were both swept out of the vicinity.

With a loud dragging noise, the pair of one-tonne-heavy golden dragons in the main hall suddenly began to move backward, leaving a heavy trail of scars in its wake.

Within a few rounds of howling, the yellow brocades surrounding the palace were swept up, flying through the air as though they were celestial fairies dancing about. It was a pretty sight, however, the brocades also brought with them several plates of premium fruit and teapots, smashing them all over the place, the fruit rolling all over the ground like broken jade.

Zhan Nancheng was drinking tea and was caught off guard when the wind suddenly came, the boiling tea in his cup suddenly splashing out. Afraid of scalding himself, he'd let go, but it was too late. The water had already splashed out, and just as Zhan Nancheng braced himself, a hand lightly reached out, catching the cup and catching the water in one fluid movement before placing it firmly once again in his palm.

Zhan Nancheng breathed a sigh of relief as he raised his head and smiled weakly.

”Many thanks to the prince, this wind is… too strange…”

Zhangsun Wuji did not reply him but instead turned around and stared at the epicenter of the wind, his eyes reflecting a slight worry.

At that moment, the wind picked up again!

The women hurriedly grabbed their skirts in alarm, and the men gaped in shock.

Yet when they looked in the epicenter of the wind, they were met with a calm and almost tranquil situation, all repetitive action having culminated in a single action—Meng Fuyao was upside down above Bagu's head, her blade pierced through its center.

A trickle of blood streamed down from the top of Bagu's head, just ever so thin. Meng Fuyao's blade was only lodged on the epidermal layer of his scalp. It did not penetrate deeply.

When the howling of the wind resided, she landed lightly, only to spew a mouthful of blood upon landing, losing more blood than Bagu.

Nonetheless, her hand did not slacken as she shifted the blade between Bagu's eyebrows. She growled, ”Your eyes… what forbidden technique is that?”

Bagu refused to speak, his mouth shut tightly. Meng Fuyao said coldly, ”As long as you show me the scene from earlier one more time, I won't kill you.”

Bagu rubbed his mouth as though considering.

On the jade throne sat a calmly spectating Zhangsun Wuji, his hand suddenly pressing against the throne's arm.

He watched Bagu with expressionless eyes, his palm hovering closely over his armrest. On it was a pair of eyes of the Ghost Head Claw that he had just gouged out. He placed his palm over the eyes and pressed it gently.

Bagu suddenly tensed up.

Tensing up under Meng Fuyao's blade, it was as though his entire body was pulled inwards, his four limbs convulsing strangely as his breathing became rushed and his face turned purple, his gaze suddenly shining brightly as gurgling noises came from his throat. He twisted his torso slowly, as though trying to turn around to look for something.

Meng Fuyao panicked, her blade piercing through between his eyebrows as she shrieked furiously, ”What are you trying to do!”

She was already heavily injured and had already used every ounce of her inner energy to subdue her opponent. Having been startled again, she spat out another mouthful of blood onto Bagu's face, several droplets landing on the ground as well.

The blood was a brilliant, eye-catching crimson red.

Still sitting on the jade throne, Zhangsun Wuji's hand immediately stopped moving.

His gaze traveled from the blood to Meng Fuyao's paper-white face, a hint of pain flashing in his eyes. Slowly relaxing his hand, he stopped moving and, watching Bagu, he pressed downwards again. Upon seeing the fiery expression with which Bagu was looking at Meng Fuyao, his hand stopped moving again.

He repeated the action several times.

Three times.

But the moment felt like a thousand years.