Chapter 211: Finished

Chapter 211: Finished

A formation? Zhao Chenghuang’s eyelid twitched. Seeing the formation of intertwining water and fire take shape, the well-traveled and knowledgeable City God didn't hesitate for a second, bolting madly toward the outside of the water and fire.

He could not be trapped inside the formation.

Zhao Chenghuang stowed the little clay figurine, turning into a residual shadow. In less than a breath, he crashed into the edge of the grand water-and-fire array, only to immediately slam into an invisible wall of qi.

*Hum! Hum! Hum!*

He tensed the muscles of his waist and back, his arms acting like connecting rods, driving his fists to hammer against the qi wall with fierce speed.

Under his violent onslaught—capable of cracking steel—the qi wall rippled with rings of water-like, rapid undulations.

Zhao Chenghuang’s expression shifted slightly. He changed his fists into claws, pressing his pitch-black, razor-sharp nails against the qi wall and raking them down with a savage tear.

The ripples on the qi wall accelerated once more, yet showed no sign of collapsing or shattering.

Zhao Chenghuang’s heart sank. His claws could rival certain armor-piercing artifacts, yet they were helpless against the barrier.

"Heh heh~"

Suddenly, a hoarse laugh rang out from behind.

Zhao Chenghuang swiftly retrieved the little clay figurine, cupping it in his palm. He turned back with a deliberate slowness, on guard. He saw a humanoid figure condensed from flames, its features blurred, holding a narrow, long saber in its hands.

And on the other side, a humanoid figure condensed from illusory water currents slowly manifested.

What... what kind of artifact was this, capable of displaying both fire and water abilities simultaneously? Where was Yuanshi Tianzun himself... In his ghostified state, Zhao Chenghuang coldly scrutinized the two elemental beings.

A commotion erupted in the stands; the official Walkers present could no longer remain calm.

An artifact possessing the traits of two major classes simultaneously was exceedingly rare—virtually nonexistent in exclusive Spirit Realms, appearing only in multiplayer ones, and even then, rarer than phoenix feathers and qilin horns, scarcer even than Fire Masters with intelligence.

Only the Scholar class could manufacture such artifacts, but the difficulty was high, the yield low, the price exorbitant, and few possessed powerful functionality.

This artifact of Yuanshi Tianzun’s could evolve formations; it was clearly a peerless treasure.

Simultaneously, they all recalled that yesterday, when Yuanshi Tianzun defeated Qingsongzi, he had once used the Water Ghost’s passive. This meant the formation was not this artifact’s sole function.

The Water Ghost and Fire Master’s breathing suddenly grew rapid.

An artifact that possessed the dual classes of Water Ghost and Fire Master was entirely their nemesis.

Using fire to overcome water, using water to overcome fire—whether Water Ghost or Fire Master, trapped in such a formation, both would suffer a crushing defeat.

But if *they* were the ones wielding this artifact, they could unleash its power to the maximum. Because among the five orthodox classes of Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth, though they were common classes, they held an innate, unique advantage.

Home-field advantage!

For instance, any peak-class professional would find it extremely difficult to defeat a Water Ghost of the same level in a river.

Therefore, if a Water Ghost or Fire Master possessed the Yin-Yang Robe, the water array and fire array became their home turf. Once the formation was deployed, their combat power would skyrocket directly.

Zhao Chenghuang searched for a moment but found no trace of Yuanshi Tianzun. He stared at the fire figure for a long while, suddenly feeling the other bore a certain resemblance to Yuanshi Tianzun, and blurted out:

"Are you Yuanshi Tianzun?"

After ghostification, his voice was gloomy and cold.

The flame-man let out a bizarre, eerie laugh:

"Sharp eyes you've got. Save your breath. Once the formation unfolds, no one leaves for ten minutes. Lord Zhao, ready to be trampled beneath my feet?"

He truly was the Primordial Heavenly Venerate, to even incarnate as an element... Lord Zhao's face flickered with astonishment, then a thought struck him: Ten minutes?!

"Idiot!"

That humanoid figure condensed from illusory water let out a sharp, furious curse:

"The body turns to flame, but the brain needn't turn to a Pyromancer's. How could you leak the critical intel like that? You're going to be the death of me!"

The flame-man froze, then realized his blunder, swearing bitterly:

"Shit. Careless. My IQ's been dragged down to a Pyromancer's baseline."

The clamor in the stands died down a notch. Spirit Realm Walkers of every major profession covertly glanced at the Pyromancers beside them.

The Pyromancers' lips twitched, or blue veins bulged at their temples, looking ready to swarm the Primordial Heavenly Venerate in a group beatdown at any second.

Finished cursing, the flame-man's body abruptly collapsed. The flames behind Lord Zhao exploded with a *bang*, coalescing into a humanoid shape.

Fire Walk!

Within the flame formation, Zhang Yuanqing could appear anywhere, anytime.

The flame-man swung his arms, the narrow, long blade slicing toward the enemy's neck.

*Bang!*

Lord Zhao didn't move. The little clay figurine in his palm propped up a hazy gray light screen. The narrow blade hacked onto it like striking a sandbag, scattering gritty motes of light.

Only after suffering the attack did Lord Zhao "belatedly" turn, a claw swiping at the flame-man.

But he caught only a swelling ball of firelight; the flame-man had Fire Walked away again.

*Bang bang bang...*

The flame-man circled Lord Zhao, hacking slash after slash onto the light screen, raising a dense spray of sandy light motes.

Whenever Lord Zhao counterattacked, he used Fire Walk to shift position, ambushing from behind or the flank.

In the flame's home turf, the flame-man was a fish in water.

And Lord Zhao, holding up the clay figurine, moved with abnormal slowness, shoulders bowed as if bearing a mountain.

This was the price of the artifact. The defensive artifacts of the Earth Monster profession universally exacted the toll of "heaviness."

Seeing the protective screen growing ever more unstable, the little clay figurine in his palm trembling, Lord Zhao knew its defense couldn't withstand the battle-saber's edge. He decisively stowed the figurine away.

"Courting death?" The flame-man laughed arrogantly, a slash descending.

Lord Zhao shifted his feet, dodging the blade, pitch-black claws enveloping the flame-man's skull.

*Bang!*

He crushed the flame-man's head with brute force.

Headless, the flame-man swept his blade horizontally, carving a bone-deep gash across Lord Zhao's waist and abdomen.

They clashed and separated in an instant.

"Foolish. I am immune to physical attacks," the Flame Man laughed maniacally.

Lord Zhao’s face darkened. He drew a deep breath of scorching air; the wound at his waist writhed and knit itself shut with terrifying speed.

After his ghostly transformation, his vitality and regenerative capacity had been amplified enormously. So long as his head remained on his shoulders, he could cling to life for a long while even with a destroyed heart—long enough to await the salvation of the Elixir of Life.

*Thud!*

The Flame Man stomped forward heavily, his arm thrusting the narrow, long blade forward with vicious force.

Lord Zhao moved with sharp agility, sidestepping the blow. His pitch-black, razor-sharp claws shot out, clamping tight around the blade.

The Flame Man tried to yank the weapon back, but Lord Zhao held fast. Fresh, crimson blood instantly welled from his palm; his talons gouged deep white grooves into the steel.

*Stealing the blade?*

The Flame Man snorted coldly, gathering strength to wrench it free—then froze. An inexplicable force had suddenly manifested along the blade, aiding Lord Zhao in the struggle.

His gaze traveled to the tip of the sword. There, he saw the one assisting Lord Zhao: a white-pupiled Spirit Servant with lips as black as ink.

Spirit Servants possessed the power of telekinesis.

Zhang Yuanqing, whose body had elementalized, feared no assault from the Servant, yet he had also lost the means to harm it.

Inch by inch, the narrow blade slipped from the Flame Man’s grip. Inch by inch, the Flame Man’s feet slid toward Lord Zhao.

The Water Clone, currently aiding Corpse No. 1 against the Yin Corpse, sneered, "Trash. I told you ages ago this blade was mine. Look at you—you didn't kill the man, and you lost the sword."

The Flame Man roared in fury, "Shut your mouth! Do I need you to teach me how to do my job?"

With that, he spewed a torrent of raging flame onto the blade, heating it until it glowed cherry-red, a branding iron from hell.

*Sizzle~*

Blue smoke curled from Lord Zhao’s hands; the stench of burning flesh assaulted the nose. His face twitched violently, agony beyond endurance.

"Let go already!" The Flame Man’s maw gaped wide, unleashing another scorching blast—this time aimed directly at Lord Zhao.

In a heartbeat, Lord Zhao’s hair, brows, and robes burst into flame. His cyan-black skin was instantly marred by charred scars.

The fire burned relentlessly. His skin carbonized bit by bit, taking on a gruesome, glowing red sheen.

Finally, with a furious roar, Lord Zhao released his claws and retreated in a flash, escaping the zone of the fire’s kiss.

Seizing the opening, the Flame Man pressed the attack. The narrow blade slashed horizontally and vertically, carving bone-deep gashes across Lord Zhao’s body. His cyan-black skin shimmered with a metallic luster, yet beneath that edge, it was as fragile as paper.

Were it not for Zhang Yuanqing’s ignorance of swordsmanship, Lord Zhao would have already been hewn to pieces.

In the stands, the members of the Taiyi Sect leapt to their feet, shouting toward the elders' platform:

"Foul! He’s cheating!"

"The hell... that’s a Saint-grade artifact, isn't it?"

“Using an artifact of this caliber is cheating; one can only suffer passively, with absolutely no way to retaliate.”

“Elders, say something!”

The Night Patrolling Deity of the Taiyi Sect grew frantic; he had never anticipated that the Primordial Heavenly Venerable would possess such a miraculous artifact, driving Zhao the City God into such dire straits.

This was not how they had envisioned it; in their understanding, it should have been the Primordial Heavenly Venerable teetering on the brink, while Zhao the City God crushed the enemy.

On the Five Elements Alliance side, everyone was exhilarated, yet they suppressed their cheers, all turning their gazes toward the elders' seats.

In their view, this artifact was indeed a touch too heaven-defying.

Fu Jia the Swordsman proclaimed in a loud voice: “Silence! Do not interfere with the match.”

These words amounted to an endorsement for the Primordial Heavenly Venerable; the artifact was not a violation.

The Yin-Yang Robe had been obtained in a Spirit Realm during the Transcendent stage; it was indeed not a Saint-realm artifact.

“Haha, you brat Zhao the City God, your doom has arrived. Kneel and call me Grandpa, and Grandpa might just spare your life.”

The Flame Man was beside himself with glee, brandishing his narrow-bladed longsword in relentless pursuit, occasionally manipulating flames to trigger explosions, subjecting his foe to double the pressure.

Seeing the Primordial Heavenly Venerable fight with such wild, unbridled abandon, the watching Fire Masters nodded slightly, feeling a strong sense of kinship, and thus forgave his earlier insulting words about fire.

Zhao the City God took another slash, but at this moment, he had already retreated to the boundary where water and fire converged. Seeing the Flame Man swing his blade down once more, he leaped bodily across the fiery frontier.

In an instant, illusory torrents surged forth, crashing against his chest. Though it was phantom water, it possessed a tangible touch and biting chill, soothing the scorch marks on his body and bringing a refreshing coolness that seeped into his heart.

The Flame Man halted at the boundary line, refusing to cross over.

Witnessing this, Zhao the City God curled his lips into a smile and said:

“Just now I kept wondering, why didn't the elders call a halt? Why wasn't such a powerful artifact ruled a violation? Now I understand. It is indeed a Transcendent-grade artifact.

“Your artifact has a fatal flaw: water and fire cannot merge. The two avatars each govern a distinct zone, separated as clearly as the Jing and Wei rivers.”

He had fought the fire avatar for so long that even when he seized the blade, the water avatar made no move to stop him, proving there was a restriction—the water avatar could not touch the fire zone.

The Flame Man roared in anger: “So what if it does!”

Zhao the City God replied:

“You cannot attack! The offensive power of a Transcendent-stage Water Ghost and Fire Master is limited; neither alone can do a thing to me. The only true threat to me is the blade in your hand.

“Therefore, your formation can only trap me; it cannot truly wound me. That is why the elders did not call a halt.”

The Flame Man fell silent.

“Do you look down on me?” The water avatar appeared soundlessly behind Zhao the City God, a fist driving toward the back of his skull.

Zhao the City God sank his knees, lowering his body by over ten centimeters to dodge the blow aimed at his brain, simultaneously spinning around to swing a claw, cleaving the water avatar in two at the waist.

“Crash~”

The water body collapsed into illusory streams, enveloping Zhao the City God from all eight directions.

Formless water, yet lethal.

On the other side, the Level 4 Yin Corpse, currently enduring a beating, slowly opened its mouth, its voice hoarse:

“Night Parade God vitality is formidable; even without breathing, I can endure for a very, very long time—long enough to outlast your formation.”

The Flame Man roared in fury:

“Switch positions!”

It lifted its foot and stomped down heavily.

The Water-Fire Grand Formation revolved like a millstone, water and fire exchanging places.

Zhao Chenghuang, originally trapped in the water formation, along with the two Yin Corpses, appeared amidst the swirling flames.

The Flame Man, blade in hand, gave chase to Zhao Chenghuang and the Yin Corpses.

The latter refused to engage entirely, fleeing with the Yin Corpses madly back into the water formation, his voice light:

“This holds no meaning whatsoever!

“I will not fight you again. There is only one blade. When the fire avatar holds the blade, I avoid the fire; when the water avatar holds the blade, I avoid the water. The side that can threaten me is forever only one.

“That is your flaw.”

As he spoke, Zhao Chenghuang exited his Ghost Transformation state, panting heavily. His stamina could no longer sustain such a state, but it mattered not—he had already seen through Yuanshi Tianzun’s method.

For the time that followed, Zhao Chenghuang exploited this rule, darting back and forth within the Water-Fire Formation, blocking but not attacking, dodging but not fighting.

Until ten minutes elapsed, the illusory fire and scorching fire returned to the Yin-Yang Robe in the sky.

The Yin-Yang Robe descended, and Zhang Yuanqing’s body manifested, reaching out to catch the garment.

The two Yin Corpses each withdrew their hands, retreating to their master’s side.

At the sight, the Night Parade Gods of the Taiyi Sect breathed sighs of relief.

Too dangerous. Zhao Chenghuang had nearly lost to Yuanshi Tianzun; fortunately, his keen insight had pierced the artifact’s flaw, resolving the crisis.

“Phew, a false alarm. Yuanshi Tianzun is out of tricks now, right?”

“Zhao Chenghuang is badly wounded. To push him this far, Yuanshi Tianzun is no slouch either.”

“This is what they call ‘misfortune turns to fortune.’”

Sun Miaomiao, the Maoshan sorcerers, and the others said nothing, but they, too, exhaled faintly.

Fengdu Ghost King, the Yin Princess, and the other Sages wore looks of satisfaction. As the pillars of the Taiyi Sect, they naturally did not wish to see Zhao Chenghuang fall to Yuanshi Tianzun.

Meanwhile, the Walkers of the Five Elements Alliance, save for those who had bet on Zhao Chenghuang, mostly wore disappointment they could not hide.

Yuanshi Tianzun’s response could be called brilliant—using the War Armor to enhance the Yin Corpses to counter Zhao Chenghuang’s greatest reliance, then deploying that robe to unfold a formation, turning the tables on the “Ghost Transformed” Zhao Chenghuang.

Overcoming the strong with the weak, yet firmly suppressing his opponent.

Had it been anyone else facing such a formidable Zhao Chenghuang, they would have long since admitted defeat.

“What a pity. This Zhao Chenghuang is too clever, troublesome to deal with,” Annie lamented.

“Wrong. You need to change your perspective.” Mr. Bill smiled instead:

“It is Yuanshi Tianzun who successfully neutralized Zhao Chenghuang’s terrifying state. Look—Zhao Chenghuang is heavily injured; that state burdens him immensely. Yet Yuanshi Tianzun remains calm and collected, having expended virtually nothing.”

Annie froze, her gaze sharpening as she scrutinized the slightly panting Zhao Chenghuang, her beautiful eyes brightening:

"Indeed."

Mr. Bill spoke with a grave expression:

"Zhao Chenghuang knows his own condition best. Therefore, next, he will use a killing move. He will no longer entangle with Yuanshi Tianzun."

Inside the arena.

What a pity, couldn't finish him off within ten minutes... Zhang Yuanqing shook open the Yin-Yang Dharma Robe and draped it over himself, his face full of regret.

In the state of the Water-Fire Avatar, he feared neither physical attacks nor spiritual ambushes; he almost perfectly countered Zhao Chenghuang, directly forcing the latter's mysterious spirit servant into his hands.

It could be called the best opportunity to defeat the enemy.

But as Zhao Chenghuang said, the Yin-Yang Dharma Robe had its limits, its flaws.

Insufficient output was the greatest flaw, especially with artifacts restricted to three pieces. Relying solely on water and fire abilities, he had struggled even against Li Xianzong back then, needing artifacts for support.

Let alone Zhao Chenghuang in his ghostified state.

To spot the flaw in the Yin-Yang Dharma Robe in such a short time, this Zhao Chenghuang had some real skill.

"This is your trump card, isn't it?" Zhao Chenghuang exhaled lightly, his breath completely disordered, like an ordinary person after intense exercise.

His stamina had dropped by at least forty percent.

The burden of ghostification on the body was too heavy. Coupled with the knife wounds and burns suffered in the formation, healing those wounds was likewise overdrafting his cellular vitality. In just ten minutes, he was already exhausted.

"Yes!"

Zhang Yuanqing nodded, not denying it.

"Then it's my turn to play my trump card." Zhao Chenghuang panted slightly, his voice cold:

"You should know I have a spirit servant I rarely use, but you definitely don't know why I don't use it."

"Why?" Zhang Yuanqing asked along the flow of conversation.

Zhao Chenghuang's gaze suddenly sharpened: "You'll find out soon enough."

As his words fell, he reached into his item slot and pulled out a bronze box, one meter in length, width, and height. Its surface was carved with a scene of two armies facing off, blades and spears clashing, incomparably tragic.

An indescribable murderous aura rushed forth.

Upon seeing this box, the Armored Sword Client sitting at Elder Zhang's table exclaimed in shock:

"A Bingou Storage Box?"

The elders of the Five Elements Alliance were momentarily stunned.

From a short distance away, Elder Zhao smiled: "A mere replica."

The Armored Sword Client gave him a deep look: "Even if it's a replica, if it possesses the properties of a Yingshi, it's a violation!"

Elder Zhao smiled without speaking.

At this moment, Zhao Chenghuang took a deep breath and exhaled a stream of Taiyin power.

This strand of Taiyin power drifted gracefully behind his head, coalescing into a phantom draped in tattered robes—the phantom hovered like a god from legend, suspended in midair, arms spread wide.

"Clang!"

The bronze box opened.

The phantom behind Zhao Chenghuang lowered its gaze slightly, fixing its eyes on the bronze box; from its ten fingertips surged thread after thread of fine, illusory black filaments.

The black threads poured in like a waterfall, and in a moment, a humanoid figure leapt from within the bronze box.

It was a bronze puppet, its features resembling the Terracotta Warriors—arched brows, glaring eyes, body and limbs all cast in bronze, covered in verdigris, joints long since rusted; it steadied itself with a sway, its joints emitting a sound that set teeth on edge.

In its hand it clutched a battle saber coated in copper rust.

The Night Parade Gods present could see that behind the bronze puppet's head ran an illusory black thread, the thread's end connecting to the spirit servant behind Zhao Chenghuang.

Figure after figure leapt from the bronze box—ten, twenty, thirty... thirty bronze puppets in total.

They wore identical faces, gripped identical regulation long sabers, stood swaying unsteadily, emitting that same tooth-aching sound.

The spirit servant in tattered robes gave a slight shake of its arms.

"Creak~"

Every bronze puppet's head tilted in unison, all turning to stare at Zhang Yuanqing.

Clearly expressionless, yet radiating a bone-deep, sinister horror.

Zhao Chenghuang spoke coldly:

"The reason I didn't use this spirit servant is because its function is too singular—it can only manipulate lifeless puppets, and must find a matching artifact to unleash its greatest power."

At the elders' seats, Elder Dog turned his head sharply, glaring at Elder Zhao, and said:

"Shameless! What difference is there between this and using the Yanshi trait?"

Using a spirit servant to control thirty puppets equals thirty men ganging up on Yuanshi Tianzun—how is he supposed to win?

Elder Zhao smiled and said:

"If he'd used the Yanshi ability, a single puppet would suffice to slay Yuanshi Tianzun. You can't cry foul just because my great-grandson's spirit servant can manipulate puppets."

Yanshi is a Level 7 Scout skill, the skill itself named "Yanshi," granting the power to manipulate soldier-puppets.

A single Yanshi equals a thousand armies, equals an entire legion.

The Soldier-Puppet Storage Box is an artifact of a White Tiger Army elder; only a Yanshi can use it—otherwise the puppets inside are no different from dead objects.

That's why the Armored Swordmaster said using the Yanshi trait would be cheating.

But Zhao Chenghuang truly didn't cheat—the spirit servant's puppet manipulation differs from the Yanshi's ability; they merely share the outward form of puppet control.

This spirit servant's manipulation technique, in the elders' eyes, was crude and rudimentary.

Yet for Walkers at the Transcendent stage, it's an unwinnable fight.

Zhao Chenghuang still had this up his sleeve?

Gazing at the dense mass of thirty bronze puppets, the onlookers were struck dumb with astonishment.

Is this still a ring match?

This is just bullying, isn't it.

Mr. Bill's face shifted slightly: "God, it's over..."

In the White Tiger Guards' section, Qicirou, seated diagonally behind Fu Qingyang, cursed:

"Fuck, five years of funding gone."

Feng Laiyi and the others fell silent.

"So this is Lord Zhao's spirit servant..." The Maoshan sorcerer sitting next to Sun Miaomiao laughed aloud, gleeful:

"Sun Miaomiao, why didn't you tell me sooner? If you had, I would've upped the bet."

A defeated subordinate of the Primordial Heavenly Venerate, he delighted in watching Lord Zhao crush his "enemy."

Sun Miaomiao shot him a sidelong glance: "How would I know? This thing was most likely crafted overnight by the Scholar Clan at Elder Zhao's behest. Lord Zhao never used it before."

"Tsk tsk, having a Sovereign-level grandfather is pure bliss." The Maoshan sorcerer remarked.

At that moment, Elder Zhao, wearing a faint smile, heard Elder Sun to his left speak in a tone of utter anguish:

"It's over, this is completely over..."

Elder Zhao turned his head, slightly surprised, frowning: "Aren't you usually quite disdainful of that Primordial Heavenly Venerate?"

Elder Sun snapped irritably: "I mean your great-grandson's trump card is finished."

The words had barely left his mouth when Elder Hongying and the others also turned to look.

"Old Sun, what do you mean?"