Chapter Seventeen: Waiting for the Right Moment

When Balan withdrew his sorcery and came down to land, his face was dark with displeasure.

Before him lay the ruins of a city. Such places could come to be for many reasons, but in this age there was only one cause: war.

The shattered remains of a colossal war machine before him confirmed as much. It was one of the most common constructs used in the War of the Sealed Gods, towering more than thirty feet high and shaped like a metal giant. Though it had endured wind and rain for centuries, the viscous fluid that had leaked from within had not entirely dried, and a pungent stench still hung in the air, spreading for miles around.

There were many such constructs about him, some toppled, some seated, some even sprawled across half-collapsed walls. Coupled with the tall, tangled grass and the reeking miasma that never lifted from overhead, the place had become like a labyrinth, and the monsters within were as blind as the sightless.

"Just as cunning as I expected," Balan snorted, his gaze cold as ice. With a slight gesture, he sent the four wind-burrowers scattering, and they vanished without a trace into the city ruins.

He himself took the long sword in hand and, with a savage look, slowly stepped inside.

At the other end of the ruins, Chang Xiangzhu's expression was equally grim.

Though they had hidden their traces from the enemy's senses, she still had little confidence when facing Balan, who had already become a great demon. The wiles of Liuchou were at best useful against lesser monsters; once the gap in rank was crossed, such tricks were all but meaningless and would not stir much of a wave.

The only good news was that although Balan now possessed the potential to step into the realm of a great demon, he seemed still to remain at the peak of a strange-demon stage, perhaps because the blow dealt him that day by Yuan Sanxuan had been too severe. Until now, he had not dared to challenge heavenly tribulation and break through.

The place Liuchou had chosen for the ambush lay deep within the ruins, in the most catastrophic section of all: more than a hundred different war constructs were tangled together, huddled against one another into a heap of debris more than a hundred feet high. Within it were even the wrecks of several sky-vessels. Whether this had been done deliberately by the victors to proclaim their glory, no one could say.

Liuchou's hiding place was within the rear engine chamber of one such sky-vessel. A great hole had been torn open there, perfectly facing downward, while the tattered, weather-rotted banners fluttered in the wind, hindering him slightly while also concealing his tracks to a great degree.

After a brief meeting, the two had decided to make their final stand here and settle matters once and for all with the pursuers.

He lay quietly in the bottom of the cabin, eyes closed, not even allowing his gaze to escape from this place. Only his ears trembled faintly and continuously, gathering the other side's fragmented footsteps as he judged the enemy's position.

From the sounds carried to his ears, the approaching monster walked lightly, its pace clear and measured. A dense demonic force swirled around it; this was the mark of a true upper-rank demon race. At this stage, such beings could already solidify demonic power, transforming it into all manner of objects and weapons for attack, to be used as they pleased. Anything could become their tool.

It seemed this was the strange demon Chang Xiangzhu had feared. Liuchou held his breath, and even his heartbeat slowed gradually until he was motionless as stone, searching for the best chance to strike.

He had never crossed paths with such a formidable opponent. Strange demons and lesser monsters were not the same kind of creature at all. By the standards of the human race, a strange demon was equivalent to a cultivator who had already mastered sorcery and formed a nascent soul, possessing the qualifications to ascend to immortality. It was only because of certain circumstances that such a being had not yet formally risen, but it was already one who had attained the Way.

Against such an enemy, Liuchou knew full well that his only reliable means of attack was the hand crossbow, and he would have no more than one chance, absolutely no more!

It was time to use the heavy bolt.

This strange demon probably could never have imagined that a mere lesser monster would possess a means of harming him. That unexpectedness was Liuchou's greatest chance.

Balan had already entered the range of the hand crossbow, and on several occasions, by the sounds alone, Liuchou judged that he was in some kind of possessed state. Yet Liuchou still did not move. A strange demon's reflexes and speed far surpassed those of a lesser monster, and when one was already on guard, a hasty strike would gain nothing.

In both his past and present lives, Liuchou's hunting experience was exceptionally rich. At this moment his mind was utterly focused; beyond the enemy's life and death, there was not a single extraneous thought.

The pride of the demon race lay not only in their extraordinary bodies and stamina, but also in their keen senses, such as smell, hearing, and sight. Yet in this strange environment, Balan's five senses were severely blunted. Aside from relying on his eyes and instinct to find his opponent, he had little advantage, and was in fact far less adept than Liuchou and Chang Xiangzhu.

Liuchou's hearing, and Chang Xiangzhu's tongue-scent.

Tongue-scent was a special talent of serpentkind. This sense could ignore the interference of ordinary odors and directly lock onto all living beings, human or demon alike. In Liuchou's understanding, later generations would give it another name: infrared vision. It was an innate ability of snakes.

Thus, though Balan searched for Liuchou and Chang Xiangzhu with great difficulty, the two had long since locked onto his position.

Just as Balan rounded a broken segment of a construct's torso and prepared to turn, he suddenly halted and looked toward the slanted rear. There stood the tilted lower hold of a sky-vessel. At the very instant he turned his head, a black shadow in midair, hoisting a monstrous and terrifying heavy hammer high overhead, came crashing down like Mount Tai falling upon the head!

Balan thrust out his long sword and leaped straight up from the ground. In midair he suddenly kicked off, his momentum twisting in a bizarre arc as he pounced toward the attacker's flank.

The one pouncing upon Balan was naturally Chang Xiangzhu. Though her demonic power had increased during years of flight, she had only just reached the fourth rank, still far below Balan. She had dared to ambush him only because of her born divine strength and because Balan dared not strike with full ruthlessness.

Balan was swift beyond compare, yet Chang Xiangzhu was not slow either. In an instant she changed direction, and in midair the clash of sword and hammer rang out with a grating shriek. Then both landed together and began a frenzied exchange of killing blows, fighting in a swirling mass!

From the sound of their engagement, Balan was clearly not exerting himself at all, as though he were merely toying with her. Chang Xiangzhu, by contrast, was using every ounce of strength she possessed. Even so, she was still obviously at a disadvantage, exhausting herself to no real avail.

If only she could hold out a little longer.

Liuchou slowly retreated into the depths of the sky-vessel's cabin, opened his eyes, and brought the hand crossbow before him. Carefully, he inserted the demon core, then loaded the bolt, and at once began to pour in strands of demonic power.

The dark crossbow body instantly came to life. Under the force of the demonic power, lines of hidden runes gradually lit up, and Liuchou's awareness, carried by the power, flooded through the entire weapon, drawing it in as though a drought-stricken land had suddenly met torrential rain, greedily absorbing and filling itself with strength.

At the same time, once the runes were alight, the power within the demon core surged like flowing water into the bolt, seeping through it and forming a peculiar substance that wrapped the entire shaft completely, growing denser and thicker layer by layer.

This was the new attribute Liuchou's upgraded hand crossbow had gained: the Thunderbolt Bolt.

It was also the first time Liuchou had used this ability against an enemy. Just how much devastation it could inflict was unknown, but by intuition alone, Liuchou knew that this strike would deal Balan severe injury.

Liuchou checked the hand crossbow. Everything was ready. Then he quietly began to retreat, slipping out through another opening in the sky-vessel and threading his way through the mountain-like wreckage toward the place where the two were fighting.

He needed to shorten the distance as much as possible.

With a ringing clash, Chang Xiangzhu and Balan finally separated, each glaring at the other. Chang Xiangzhu's arms and body had already been cut open by seven or eight sword wounds. Though not deep, they were all narrow and long. Balan, however, remained unscathed, a faintly mocking look on his face. He slowly lifted his sword before him and extended his tongue to lick the blood remaining on the blade.

As a drop of fresh blood entered his mouth, Balan suddenly laughed, his expression full of smug satisfaction. "Still want to keep fighting? With those paltry tricks of yours, if I hadn't shown restraint, do you really think you could have lasted this long?"

Chang Xiangzhu clenched her teeth and endured the stabbing pain throughout her body, replying coldly, "If you've got the skill, then kill me!"

"Kill you? Heh, do you really think I wouldn't dare?" Balan snorted. "True, the Gate of Heaven is indeed a treasure of our demon race, but what use is it to me? Since I can't get it anyway, even if I kill you, it changes nothing!"

"And why don't you strike dead?" Faced with Balan's attempt to break her will, Chang Xiangzhu did not waver in the least, and even sneered, "Killing me would settle everything. What could be simpler?"

Seeing that she showed no fear, Balan was about to speak again when he suddenly heard rustling sounds all around him. The four wind-burrowers appeared one after another and began to emerge around them, surrounding the pair in the middle. His expression instantly eased further, and he laughed aloud.

"With things as they are now, you have nowhere to run at all. Why should I insist on killing you and making enemies of the other valley masters?"

Chang Xiangzhu's retreat had been sealed off. Never mind Balan himself; even with only the four wind-burrowers blocking her, she would have difficulty escaping. The situation had turned appallingly dire in an instant. Under such circumstances, any hope of surviving today had all but been extinguished.

Chang Xiangzhu regretted her moment of impulse. Even she did not know why she had acted so, whether it was from trust in Liuchou, or because she was already weary of this endless flight and had grown a desire for death, unconsciously choosing this path of self-destruction.

Liuchou's hand crossbow slowly rose and began to aim.

Yet he still did not fire. He kept waiting, waiting for Balan to grow careless, waiting for the one chance that would strike true at a single blow.

Chang Xiangzhu fell silent. Her face also grew somewhat pale. Such a sight naturally did not escape Balan's notice. Seeming to feel the relaxed assurance that comes when all dust has settled, he smiled and continued to pressure her with words, eroding the little resolve she had left.

"Now, do you still believe you can escape? I advise you to surrender at once. If you return obediently to Plum Mountain, we may yet show you some respect. You can still swim in Star Lake and roam the mountains at your leisure. After all, the Gate of Heaven does still have some use. But if you remain stubborn..."

His smile grew ever lighter, more cheerful, and full of triumph. "...then after we capture you alive, if we send you back at all, it will likely only be to lock you beneath the earth. I am sure you have never experienced that feeling. Not dead, yet so far from living. Let alone all the life you once had, which will from this day on have nothing to do with you ever again..."

Chang Xiangzhu's hand trembled faintly. Whether it was because the hammer had been held aloft too long and her arm had gone weak, or because Balan's words had stirred her anger, or because of helpless trembling and fear toward the future, she herself did not know.

She scanned the surroundings and found no possible route of escape. Every path had been blocked by the four wind-burrowers. This made her gaze even more desolate, and Balan's smile even more delighted. His whole body seemed saturated with exhilaration, as though he were bathed in a spring breeze.

This was a dead end.

Seeing Chang Xiangzhu's plight, a repressed thrill began to rise in Balan's heart.

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