Chapter 601: The Four Harms of Heavenly Competition

Chapter 601: The Four Harms of Tianjing

Nearby was the frantically galloping black steed, far away the bloodthirsty Nong beasts.

The stark white headlights stretched between them, constantly shortening, like a countdown before a fierce collision.

The light shrank inch by inch until only a fraction remained, and grotesque faces filled the inside and outside of the vehicle.

"Roar!"

"Die!"

The black steed's front lifted slightly, throwing up a torrent of splashing sewage, and it slammed ferociously into the herd.

Bang!

Steel striking flesh issued a bone‑chilling thud.

The Nong beasts in front had no time to wail before being flung aside; thick, foul blood streamed down the vehicle’s sides in black ribbons several zhang long, only to be washed away instantly by the downpour.

"I’ll grind you filthy things into the dirt!"

The windshield, cracked and spider‑webbed, was littered with shattered organs; Wang Qi’s fierce eyes were threaded with crimson veins, the knuckles on his whitening grip bulging.

Like a small boat caught in a storm.

Wang Qi felt himself being drowned in an ocean of black blood.

The frantic speed visibly slowed; the tires ground the pavement, belching thick white smoke, the acrid smell of burnt rubber mingling with the nauseating stench of rotting flesh, continually assaulting Wang Qi’s taut nerves.

These mutated flesh monsters knew neither death nor fear, hurling themselves from all sides, clinging to the vehicle’s left and right, trying to jam their limbs into the spinning wheels.

The pile of silhouettes grew higher and higher, like a writhing wall erected before the front.

The black steed strained to sway its body, but could not shake off the swarming Nong beasts; it could only struggle in its death throes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Wang Qi slammed his elbow into the already‑shaky window, seized the Duoyan Wei rifle with one arm and thrust it outward; violent rounds punched fist‑sized holes in the 'wall'.

"Ao Hu, what now?"

Ao Hu glanced toward the rear seat; Shen Li, who had just awakened, slipped back into a dazed haze.

Without a doubt, in his current state he could not possibly fulfill the Jia.

It seemed Shen Li had still not fully escaped the influence of that illusion.

Ao Hu sighed inwardly, turned his head to look at Wang Qi.

"Wang Qi,"

"Huh?"

Wang Qi smashed his elbow into a head forced into the cab, suddenly hearing Ao Hu call his name, he glanced over, puzzled.

"Looks like this time you really have to play the hero."

As his words fell, a storm of metal swirled inside the cabin.

Scattered plates clung to Wang Qi’s body and instantly congealed into armor.

A cold‑glinting feral visage dropped from the helmet, shielding his features.

For the first time wearing armor, Wang Qi felt no panic; instead a surge of domineering power rose within him, warming his chest.

I knew that in this Yellow Millet dream I am the rightful protagonist—how could I hit a dead end right at the start?

All the hardships and life‑or‑death crises are merely chances to boost my strength.

Now the plot has finally unfolded; it’s time for me to unleash my divine might!

"A few petty vermin dare to block me?!"

His fighting spirit surged; Wang Qi roared, power coiled, his body tensed, ready to burst out of the vehicle and unleash carnage.

Boom!

A mountain‑like pressure descended from the heavens, interrupting Wang Qi’s move.

Seeing this weight centered on the black steed, about to be torn into a bare frame, the Nong beasts within ten zhang let out fearful wails, dropping to their knees in unison; their bones twisted and shattered instantly, jagged splinters piercing the skin like blooming white‑bone flowers.

Wang Qi, seated at the driver’s side, stared blankly at the horrifying sight, unaware that a figure had drifted down from above and stood beside the window.

"Are they all still alive?"

The newcomer lightly tapped the window’s upper pane, bent over to peer inside, his soft gaze falling on Shen Li.

"I’ve returned late."

Shen Li, head bowed and eyes downcast, slumped in the rear seat, unresponsive to the man’s words.

The man furrowed his heroic sword‑brows, his expression grave, turning his head toward the dull eyes set in the demonic visage of the armor nearby.

"You must be Ao Hu—Shen Li once boasted of you, saying you’re a brother worth entrusting."

A warm smile spread across the man’s handsome face: "My name is Jiang Wei, also of Tianque. I may yet impose on you—please keep looking after him, thank you."

Having spoken, the man stepped forward.

"What are you going to do?"

Wang Qi and Ao Hu stared at the tall, straight back blocking the road, shouting in unison.

"I’ll clear a path for you."

The figure did not turn, facing the once‑again thickening black tide.

Pairs of eyes flashing with eerie light filled the raging wind and rain; sensing threat, the Nong beasts emitted rising and falling low growls, their bodies pressed together yet instinctively recoiling backward.

"We suffered a loss decades ago, yet still we haven’t learned. Frankly, we who walk the martial path are hardly worth mourning."

Wind lashed his robes, snapping loudly.

Jiang Wei’s lips curled with self‑mocking humor as he stepped forward.

As if a substantial mountain pressed ahead, surging forward, it seemed an invisible hand cleared the way for him.

Each Nong beast trembled, letting out desperate howls before its body exploded into a spray of flesh and blood.

The surging sea of beasts was split down the middle; the martial warrior bore authority, pushing forward irresistibly.

"Yet you keep using this base trick over and over—don’t you grow tired of it?"

"Jiang Wei, tempered in the two martial gates, the most promising youth of Tianque to rise as a hegemon."

A laughing woman’s voice echoed from the depths of the beast sea: "Someone like you—how could you utter such childish words?"

"Childish?"

Jiang Wei shook his head: "I don’t think so."

"Just one move, not even a clever ploy, yet it earns your blind faith—isn’t that childish enough?"

"As fellow lost souls, we chose to shelter Tian’s fields. Even if we are bitten back now, possibly dying at your hands, it merely means we’re not worthy of pity—but it doesn’t mean Tianque did anything wrong."

"Your mouth is tough, but I wonder if it’ll stay that hard when I pull your bones out later."

As the woman spoke, the dim street subtly shifted; a thin layer of flesh‑and‑blood fields spread across the ground.

The farm beasts standing upon it seemed infused with a surge of power, helping them overcome their primal fear as their bodies rapidly swelled like inflated bellows, muscles and bones beneath their skin crackling with audible growth at a visible pace.

Even the farm beasts lucky enough to reclaim a life dragged their broken forms to the rear of the ranks, tearing off limbs from nearby companions to graft onto themselves.

Fresh crimson buds sprouted, binding flesh and blood that should never belong to one body.

This nauseating "grafting" effect stood out starkly—the once-dying farm beasts revived with vigor, letting out furious snarls as they surged forward toward Jiang Wei.

Yet even so, they could not approach within five zhang of him.

As if an invisible thunder pool stretched across the space, those who drew near were instantly crushed to powder, none spared.

"One may be bold and reckless in martial arts, but never forget gratitude and righteousness. Losing this momentum is no different from death. If you find it childish, that is your concern."

Jiang Wei’s steps faltered, his voice turning cold.

"I only ask you one thing—do you dare provoke me at the mouth of Jiulong River?"

Before he could finish, a mighty silver-armored warrior clad in martial garb materialized, a seven-foot blade of cold light falling into his palm.

Ink armor, Han Shui.

Long spear, green-dark.

The spear swept horizontally before him, unleashing a crescent-shaped chill that sent the beast tide soaring with crimson waves a zhang high. "Who gave you the nerve?!"

The ground beneath his feet cracked and crumbled as the warrior charged into the enemy ranks, entering a realm untouched by others, his long spear cleaving wide as heads rolled and wails echoed.

From afar, Wang Qi gazed upon that figure, spear and man both like dragons, unyielding even at the brink, and could not help but clench his fists.

This was true martial arts—this was martial arts!

Seemingly endless swarms of beasts, under a single green-dark spear, quickly dwindled.

The surviving farm beasts retreated, revealing their master’s owner.

A beautiful woman clad in a purple skirt.

Her skirt fluttered in the cold wind, her skin unremarkable save for a pair of ghastly white, pupil-less eyes that sent shivers down one’s spine, her gaze toward Jiang Wei tinged with an eerie delight.

Not the joy of lovers meeting, but the ravenous hunger of a starving beast spotting an unescapable prey.

Joy at the sight of the hunt, awaiting the final blow.

"Jiang Wei. Originally, you were not within our capture targets this time, yet you returned to seek death yourself—it’s an unexpected delight."

The woman spoke with a tone of lament: "Pity you’re merely a martial arts apprentice of the fourth rank, hardly a fine dish. Unless we raise you, push you to the third rank, then perhaps you’d be worth savoring. But I lack the leisure and time now, so I can only barely sate the hunger in my belly with your and Shen Li’s flesh and blood."

She spoke like an ancient gourmet critiquing a dish before her, her beautiful smile laced with bone-chilling malice.

Jiang Wei scorned to reply, his long spear flashing a blinding chill as he shattered a savage farm beast lunging at him.

With a flick of his wrist, the spearhead trembled, cleansing the tainted blood, as his inner force surged forth without reservation, and in moments, a mountainous pressure swept through the rain.

Refined martial arts, Mountain Realm!

Where his inner force reached, wind and rain seemed to thicken, the frantic farm beasts seeking salvation now mired as if in mud, their movements sluggish, one after another exploding into ink-black blood mists that condensed but never dispersed.

Within this square inch where time flowed slowly, only Jiang Wei remained unaffected, his footsteps splashing inch-high water, his spear shadows slicing through the dense rain.

Until the chill struck before him, the woman’s lips still bore that playful smile.

Puchi!

The spear tip pierced through, bursting forth.

"To refine a martial art to such transcendent heights, your lineage in the martial arts ranks is top-tier, far surpassing that Shen Li. Yet that’s all there is to it."

Only half a skull remained, blood gushing like a spring, a scarlet mouth still opening and closing.

Jiang Wei’s eyes were icy, his wrist pressing down, the descending spear tore the woman’s body apart.

Two severed corpses fell upon the blood-soaked ground, great streams of blood pouring from the mirror-smooth severed ends.

It was hard to imagine such a vast quantity of fresh blood could dwell within a single body.

Gazing upon this uncanny sight, Jiang Wei furrowed his brow, sensing something, lifting his eyes to survey the surroundings.

The scattered farm beast corpses around him rotted and melted, merging into the spreading field of flesh and blood.

In moments, the entire long street was piled with flowing thick blood plasma, the shallow flesh-and-blood fields rapidly proliferating and thickening.

"The martial arts sect, a ruined dog—such is its fate."

Amidst the "rumbling" surge, four grotesque twisted figures slowly crawled from the blood plasma.

Their bodies were purely beastly—some bore twin wings on their backs, dripping corrosive pus as they unfurled; others were as large as rats, their whip-like tails lashing with ear-piercing explosions; some had limbs as slender as mosquito legs, sharp as blades, flashing with cold light; others wore armor plates like doors, humming with vibrating wing sounds.

Demon-like forms, all distinct, yet each bore upon their necks the same beautiful visage as the woman.

Mosquitoes, flies, rats, cockroaches.

The four pests of the fields, human faces on beast bodies.

The wind rose sharply.

Jiang Wei’s heart alarm bells clanged—without hesitation, he sidestepped.

A leg wrapped in shrieks grazed his cheek, sparking a few sparks on the beast-devouring blade at his shoulder.

It was the mosquito-shaped farm beast.

Dodging the strike, Jiang Wei’s mind sank deeply—he sensed no inner force or martial technique from the foe, nor the buzzing agitation of a weapon heart or the sting of spiritual invasion.

Merely relying on pure strength and speed, it had achieved the might of a martial arts fourth-rank.

These people had actually cultivated such uncanny creatures—it was truly beyond belief.

"The heavens and earth birth all things; in the fields, there is more than grain. Those insects you deem insignificant are far stronger than you imagine."

Jiang Wei’s horror had yet to subside when the woman’s voice abruptly rang out behind him.

Clang!

Jiang Wei hastily turned, parrying an incoming tail whip, his counterattack swift and fierce, the clash of metal echoing continuously.

The rat-tailed beast’s whip moved like a long spear, clashing and thrusting against Jiang Wei’s storm-like strikes, scattering winds.

Yet just as it seemed indecisive, amidst the chaotic spear shadows, a sudden twang-like crack split the air.

A section of the rat tail was severed by Jiang Wei’s spinning spearhead, flung into the air.

Refined martial technique, Swan Shadow!

The spear moved like a fleeting swan, its lightning speed unleashing unstoppable sharpness, piercing straight through the severed-tailed beast’s form.

With a successful strike, Jiang Wei did not pause, withdrawing his spear and in one fluid motion, drew the airborne beast into two pieces midair.

In the flash of lightning and flint, one pest was slain.

Yet before Jiang Wei could catch his breath, darkness loomed ahead.

Clang!

The tip of the gun scrapes against Mars, passing by.

Close by, a scrawny beast’s arm is turned into rotten meat—its chestplate splits open, spilling sparks and the faint shadows of rusted marks. The gunhead, bearing the scars of corrosion, glides past the face of the human, carrying away large chunks of blood and a half-split face.

Yet this beast remained oblivious to its wounds, grasping the broken gunhead by hand and retreating. The long gun was ensnared, its movement halted.

Oh!

A slender, scaled appendage pierced the armor of the “Wanxi” with silent precision. It broke through the scales of the beast’s arm, tearing off a piece of its flesh and hurling it into the earth.

He drew a breath, then glanced around with a slow, measured sweep. Only two short, sharp words escaped his lips.

“Come again!”

The sound of it was like a command. A horde of beasts surged forward, drawn by the scent of blood.

“Hounds!”

Far off, the banner of Shen San trembled, its voice cracking as a shadow split the night.

It seemed to sense his words, and a low, resonant voice echoed from the darkness.

“Now is the time. You will die here, for you are the one I have chosen.”

The blood-splattered field trembled beneath the weight of destiny.