Chapter Seventy-Three: The Azure Dragon Ring of Star Sand

“Fang Ping, although I don’t know exactly which branch of the Fang family found you and brought you in as a Netherforce user, I still must congratulate you on stepping through the Fang family’s doors. From now on, you’ll live freely, with a bright future ahead. As long as you defeat me today, you’ll secure your place here, no longer forced to return to your old life as an assassin.”

On the mountain peak, the cold wind howled, whipping at Duan Xingyun’s robes. He smiled serenely, showing no trace of nervousness, speaking at length as if in idle conversation.

Across from him, Fang Ping was inwardly taken aback. Before coming to the Fang family, no one had ever known him—his profession’s secrecy made him almost a ghost in the world. Yet this Duan Xingyun saw him once and immediately recognized his identity. How could that not shock and unsettle him?

Yet it was merely coincidence. Duan Xingyun had grown up in the Langya Merchant Guild, a place that housed people of every stripe. He’d seen countless assassins before, so when he met Fang Ping, he guessed Fang Ping’s identity by instinct.

Duan Xingyun’s robes fluttered gently as he spoke, his words calm and smooth, like a clear spring nourishing the heart.

Fang Ping’s mind was thrown into turmoil, but after a moment, he stilled himself, quickly calming down, cursing his own lack of confidence. So what if his identity was recognized? With his strength, wasn’t the other man still at his mercy?

He steadied himself, drew his dagger, and held it before him, a cold smile playing at his lips.

In the next instant, before anyone could react, Fang Ping disappeared—as suddenly and utterly as a cloud vanishing in the night sky, smothering the light in people’s hearts.

Duan Xingyun stood poised, his concentration absolute. Suddenly, a biting chill radiated from him. Though his killing intent was not as terrifying as Fang Ping’s, it still left the onlookers with numb limbs and a creeping cold. His eyes reddened, and the ring on his finger shimmered, radiating bright light. From his body, a multitude of stardust rose, more delicate and real than during his previous duel with Jiang Feng.

“This treasure is the Stardust Azure Dragon Ring, a white Nether artifact. Its power far surpasses the nether tools you used to kill before. Be careful, Fang Ping. If you’re struck by this stardust, it will explode on contact, and within it lies a strand of Ice Soul’s coldness that can freeze your vessels. Even if your body is as defensible as my junior Xue Qiming’s, you can’t withstand this coldness.”

From Duan Xingyun’s explanation, one could see the stardust faintly coalescing into a hornless ice dragon, exuding a terrifying aura of cold.

Were it not for Duan Xingyun’s limited power, he might have fully formed the Azure Dragon from stardust—then, destruction and devastation would be but a thought away.

Fang Ping’s brow furrowed. He sensed immense confidence in Duan Xingyun—a confidence that allowed him to reveal all his techniques before the fight began.

No one thought Duan Xingyun arrogant; his manner was a warning, because his nether arts were truly dangerous.

Had Jiang Feng been present, he would have been shocked to realize that Duan Xingyun hadn’t used his full strength in their previous duel.

“The Langya Merchant Guild is truly terrifying,” Fang Chuhan thought with a shamed sigh. He’d expected that the formidable Fang Ping, found by Fang Yichen, would easily resolve this battle, but he hadn’t realized Duan Xingyun’s strength was so overwhelming.

Duan Xingyun stood with hands clasped behind his back, silent now. All his netherforce surged around him but did not erupt, condensing in the air. The stardust, so vivid it seemed painted, hovered motionless, as though the whole scene had frozen.

Within three feet, the air crackled—the sound of stardust grinding against the atmosphere. The friction made the air visible, forming beads that rose, fell, spun, or clustered together. Restless, some shot toward Fang Ping, striking his dagger with shrill, piercing sounds.

Fang Ping’s ghostlike agility abruptly stalled—he was shocked to find himself unable to breach the dense stardust surrounding Duan Xingyun.

His dagger was only three inches long; he had to kill with one blow, or else his body would be exposed to the enemy—a perilous situation for any assassin.

Jiang Feng now felt like a giant water barrel, and the Nine-Looped Chain Saber was the endless water flowing into him. His body swelled, crackling as if on the verge of bursting, with no sign of slowing.

Everyone was stunned.

What was he doing?

Even Xue Qiming was at a loss. He’d seen many odd people, especially among the Langya Merchant Guild’s strange netherforce users, but never anything like this. He wasn’t even sure it was a nether art—it looked as if Jiang Feng might explode at any moment.

“Could it be self-destruction?” Xue Qiming was alarmed. He’d heard from his master that those who reached the True Nether Realm could condense a pseudo-core in their bodies, and if overmatched, could compress and detonate it, unleashing power enough to warp space. “Heavens, at his level, he can use a True Nether Realm’s self-destruction?”

Xue Qiming’s outcry spread through Pine Pavilion, silencing the once-boisterous hall in a chilling instant.

The next moment, someone in the crowd shrieked, “Heavens, he’s going to explode! Pine Pavilion is doomed—run!”

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What had moments ago been a peaceful and orderly Pine Pavilion now descended into chaos. People abandoned all decorum and even basic morality, fleeing desperately; in their eyes, survival was all that mattered.

“What’s happening? Why are they running?” Xuan Xingzi’s face darkened as he watched the chaos, a huge question forming in his mind.

The other four family heads were also perplexed. Their attention had been fixed on Fang Ping and Duan Xingyun, so they’d missed Xue Qiming’s panicked shout and even Jiang Feng’s grandfather, Jiang Yuehai, hadn’t noticed.

“They seem scared because of something Xue Qiming shouted.” Fortunately, there was one person who had always hoped for Jiang Feng’s immediate demise: Fang Yichen. His gaze had been locked on Jiang Feng from the start, and after repeating Xue Qiming’s panic, he couldn’t help but smile wryly. “Amitabha, the masses are truly ignorant.”

Clearly, he meant that Jiang Feng couldn’t possibly self-destruct.

The four family heads also chuckled awkwardly, but unlike Fang Yichen, they had no need to be circumspect and expressed their displeasure and ridicule toward the Langya Merchant Guild.

“Brother Xuan Xingzi, your disciple Xue Qiming may be skilled, but his knowledge is sorely lacking. Just because he knows a bit about the True Nether Realm, he shouts nonsense?” said Liu Tao, who, after witnessing Liu Mengbai’s defeat and sensing his family’s decline, seized the chance to mock the Langya Merchant Guild.

Wang Yu and Jiang Yuehai, though worried about Jiang Feng, felt instinctively that this was just a nether art, and so they joined in the ridicule.

“Brother Xuan Xingzi, if he wants to spout nonsense, he should do it quietly—now he’s made a fool not only of himself but of your entire guild,” Wang Yu said, a sly, mocking smile on his face.

Jiang Yuehai laughed as well. “Wang is right, Brother Xuan Xingzi. The guild’s reputation has taken a real hit today.”

Xuan Xingzi was furious but at a loss for words, only hoping Xue Qiming would quickly regain his senses.

Fortunately, Fang Yichen was thoughtful enough to step forward, his avatar appearing before the crowd. In a gentle voice, he said, “Xue Qiming was mistaken—no need for alarm; Jiang Feng is simply performing a nether art.”

The crowd gradually calmed, though some cautious souls still fled the Pine Pavilion.

The netherforce of the Nine-Looped Chain Saber dissipated rapidly, surging into Jiang Feng and shooting through the air, leaving fiery trails like meteor tails as it clashed with the atmosphere. Jiang Feng himself lacked the strength to cause such a phenomenon, but the saber’s netherforce was so overwhelming that it created this spectacle.

“Devour!”

Finally, the Nine-Looped Chain Saber began to move toward Jiang Feng. Its sharp blade shredded his garments, revealing his refined torso and the River-and-Mountain Vase tattoo on his chest.

A slicing, tearing sound—like a butcher sharpening his knife one moment, only to plunge it into Jiang Feng’s chest the next. Yet, though the blade pierced his flesh, not a drop of blood flowed.

“Heavens, what is he doing?”

“What on earth is he doing?!”

The remaining uneasy spectators were stunned. They’d heard of self-destruction, but never of someone stabbing themselves before blowing up!

The saber accelerated, its cold gleam growing sharper as it drove itself into Jiang Feng’s body. Everyone assumed he was committing suicide out of despair at being unable to defeat Xue Qiming’s strongest spear and shield. They had no idea that, as Jiang Feng swallowed the entire Nine-Looped Chain Saber, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

Boom!

A muffled explosion erupted from Jiang Feng’s body. The blast was not large, but it startled the onlookers and Xue Qiming alike.

After a long moment, there was no sign of Jiang Feng’s body, nor his figure. Xue Qiming stared in disbelief, then sneered. “Coward. If you can’t beat me, you choose suicide? If you’d kowtowed to me twice, I might’ve spared you.”

As he muttered to himself, a sudden explosion resounded from the swirl of white smoke before him, unleashing a surge of white air currents.

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Crack! Crack! Crack!

A myriad of ice crystals formed with a solid, chilling sound. Jiang Feng’s figure, ghostlike, floated in the air as the crystals spread, coalescing into a wall of ice that enclosed him.

“As expected of a supreme dark nether artifact. After devouring it, even the ice soul fluid within me has increased—my body is tougher than ever.” Though seemingly frozen, Jiang Feng smiled inwardly, his grin widening.

Layer upon layer of ice walls formed, thick as adamant. Most remarkable were the ice spikes condensed from the ice soul fluid within—ten times more biting than what Gui Yue had left him. They weren’t yet powerful enough to shatter steel to dust, but this fluid had already greatly enhanced Jiang Feng’s resilience.

“Foolish boy, your body is still nothing compared to your opponent’s strongest defense,” Jue remarked indifferently. What interested him was not Jiang Feng’s newfound toughness, but the nether arts hidden within the Nine-Looped Chain Saber. “Every supreme dark nether artifact can record a nether art. If you comprehend it, you can learn the art left behind by its previous master.”

This principle was the same as when Jiang Feng learned Myriad Realms from the River-and-Mountain Vase—though the vase was even more remarkable, for it could not only record but also store nether arts.

While everyone, even Xue Qiming, was still stunned, Jiang Feng seized the moment to search through the Nine-Looped Chain Saber’s essence, probing for the nether art within. If he could find it, he’d have a way to defeat Xue Qiming—or so Jue claimed.

“Ice Soul’s Chill, Exploding Stardust!” Duan Xingyun chanted, and Fang Ping’s vision was flooded with stardust.

Standing outside ring after ring of stardust walls, Fang Ping suddenly thrust his dagger, dodging swiftly. But there was simply too much stardust. Many particles struck his blade, erupting in deafening explosions that numbed his grip and drew blood. Worse, the stardust showed no sign of diminishing—on the contrary, it only thickened.

“This Exploding Stardust is terrifyingly powerful. Even with my immense netherforce, I’m being shaken. Fortunately, years of deadly struggle have hardened my body. If I were an ordinary Void Nether master, I’d be blown to dust by now. If I’d reached the seventh tier of the Void Nether Realm, and refined my netherforce further, I could break through easily—but right now, it will cost me dearly,” Fang Ping thought, astonished by the stardust’s might. Layer upon layer of explosive force—if they enveloped him, it would be a descent into hell, trapped with no escape.

Moreover, he sensed that the stardust adapted to the terrain—if he found a path to victory, all would be well; if not, he’d be forced to expend his netherforce until exhausted, his strength spent.

As an assassin, he dreaded these wars of attrition most. Assassins relied on bursts of power—once entangled, their stamina and patience were worn away, until death was the only outcome.

“Fang Ping, you are now surrounded by my Ice Soul Stardust. Your netherforce is being drained. If you had a powerful artifact, perhaps you could shatter it—but with only a dagger, there’s no escape.”

Duan Xingyun smiled, but that smile was more terrifying than a snarl.

“Not necessarily!” Fang Ping mouthed, though no sound emerged. His netherforce suddenly contracted—all at once, the stardust surged, pressing in as the Ice Soul’s chill poured down, intent on freezing him completely.

“So, you plan to contract your power, then unleash it in a sudden burst to dodge the stardust at top speed?” Duan Xingyun observed, as if analyzing rather than fighting. “But even if you escape this time, your netherforce will be mostly spent, and you’ll be exposed to the Ice Soul’s chill—a self-destructive move.”

Watching, Duan Xingyun’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“This child can’t break his habit of chattering during battle,” Xuan Xingzi grumbled. He knew Duan Xingyun’s words were meant to pressure his opponent, but thought the tactic foolish—if the enemy was resolute, he’d only expose his own weaknesses.

Fang Chuhan watched, heart pounding. He’d had great faith in Fang Ping, but seeing Duan Xingyun, fear crept in. If Fang Ping lost, all his plans would be ruined.

“No need to worry, elder brother,” Fang Yichen whispered. “Fang Ping’s true strength is far more terrifying than he lets on.”

At that moment, a thunderous boom erupted—Fang Ping had acted. He contracted his netherforce, then exploded with it, unleashing wave after wave of surging power. In the blink of an eye, he shot through the stardust. Though the stardust reacted, it was slower than his body—a series of explosions tore up chunks of earth, flattening a portion of the mountaintop.

Duan Xingyun hadn’t expected Fang Ping to risk everything on such a desperate move. He barely had time to respond—his Stardust Azure Dragon Ring flared, sending another barrage of stardust spears. Jiang Feng had seen this move before, but now it was even sharper.

As Fang Ping broke free, Duan Xingyun faltered, forced to rely on his deadliest technique.