Dustin let out a muffled groan as his Xuanqing true energy burst forth, shattering the ice on his arm. He used the force to glide several meters backward, widening the distance between himself and Xuan Ming. His sword arm trembled slightly, and his face grew even paler. His opponent’s movement and cloning techniques were far too swift and deceptive—impossible to guard against completely.
“Heh, not bad reflexes,” Xuan Ming said with a soft, eerie smile as he toyed with the ice crystal sword in his hand, condensed from pure frost energy. “But how many times can you dodge? Within this Immortal Palace, the water essence is endless, and as long as it exists, I cannot die. No matter how sharp your sword is, what can you possibly do to me?”
As if to prove his words, the remnants of dark water energy from their earlier clashes—left in Dustin’s wounds by the water dragons and ice spikes—began to stir like living things. They seeped into his body, trying to freeze his blood and erode his meridians from within.
Dustin frowned deeply. He had tried several attacks, even trading injury for injury, using his sword qi to strike Xuan Ming’s body directly. But each time, the struck part of Xuan Ming’s body dissolved into flowing water, only to reform elsewhere completely unharmed.
That nearly immortal body, combined with the endlessly shifting water-based Dao techniques, made him an incredibly difficult foe. If this dragged on, Dustin would surely lose. He needed to change tactics.
If brute strength couldn’t defeat him, and his true body couldn’t be pinned down… then there was only one path left.
A flicker of resolve flashed through Dustin’s eyes.
He launched forward once again, his sword aura flaring with renewed ferocity. He struck with unmatched aggression, shattering the three water dragons into sprays of mist and forcing Xuan Ming to retreat repeatedly, relying on his water escape to dodge.
Then, in the midst of an intense exchange, Dustin’s sword movements suddenly faltered—just slightly. His protective sword qi rippled for a heartbeat, revealing a small opening at his left rib. The flaw lasted only an instant, but for someone of Xuan Ming’s caliber, it was all he needed.
“Got you!”
A glint of cold cruelty flashed in Xuan Ming’s eyes. Such a perfect chance—how could he let it slip? His figure rippled like water as he instantly appeared at Dustin’s side. His ice crystal sword darted forward like a venomous serpent, aiming straight for the exposed gap at Dustin’s ribs.
He poured eighty percent of his strength into that thrust, determined to kill with one strike. He could already imagine the satisfying sight of his sword piercing Dustin’s body, freezing him into an elegant ice sculpture.
But just as the tip of his sword brushed Dustin’s robes, Dustin’s once “weakened” gaze suddenly sharpened—deep and cold like the starry void.
He ignored the sword aimed at his ribs. Instead, his left hand, which had been gathering power all along, moved faster than thought itself. Two fingers formed a sword shape and thrust toward Xuan Ming’s forehead.
At the tip of his fingers, countless golden runes appeared and spun rapidly, glowing faintly with mysterious power.
“Xuanqing Seal—Chains of the Soul!”
Dustin’s low shout thundered directly within Xuan Ming’s spiritual sea.
“What?! He… he lured me into a trap?!”
Xuan Ming’s pupils contracted in panic. His instincts screamed danger. He tried to retreat—but it was too late.
Dustin’s finger seemed to pierce through space itself, landing precisely between Xuan Ming’s brows.
A vast, ancient, and sovereign power surged forth like a bursting dam, flooding into Xuan Ming’s mind. Countless golden runes coiled and intertwined, turning into chains that wrapped tightly around his very soul.
Xuan Ming’s vision darkened. The water essence he commanded so easily just moments ago vanished from his control, as though the source had been cut off. The ice sword in his hand stopped just short of Dustin’s chest, frozen mid-strike.
The glow faded rapidly from the sword, its energy scattering into the air. He tried to dissolve into water and flee, but his soul was shackled—the connection to the surrounding water essence forcibly severed.
“No… impossible!” For the first time, sheer terror twisted Xuan Ming’s face. He could feel his power, his senses, his very life being stripped away by the merciless golden runes locking onto his soul.
After delivering that finger strike, Dustin staggered violently. His face turned pale as paper, and his breathing grew shallow. The Xuanqing Seal—a soul-binding technique—drained his very spirit and life essence, far more than any other move he had used before.
Yet he forced himself to stay standing. His eyes, cold as frost, locked onto the frozen figure before him—Xuan Ming, completely motionless, his face still twisted in fear and disbelief.
Golden runes spread across Xuan Ming’s body, forming intricate networks that branded themselves deep into his flesh and soul. The moist aura around him dissipated, the ice crystal sword shattered, and even his attempt to melt into water was forcibly suppressed.
Finally, all movement ceased. He stood there like a lifeless puppet, his once-glimmering eyes fading into dull emptiness.
The palace fell silent again. The wine pool no longer rippled, and the cold air receded. The men and women who had once reveled in luxury now cowered on the ground, trembling uncontrollably.
The beautiful woman gasped, her delicate hand covering her lips in shock.
Even Ao Kun’s eternally cold face twitched slightly, his eyes darkening with gravity.
To defeat both Qing Mu and Xuan Ming—this man still possessed such a terrifying soul-sealing technique. Just how many hidden cards did he have left?
Dustin leaned on his sword, panting heavily. Sweat mixed with blood trickled down his temple. He lifted his head and looked past the sealed Xuan Ming, his gaze meeting the high platform where Ao Kun and the enchanting woman stood, their killing intent almost solid in the air.
“The next one,” he said hoarsely, but with unshakable resolve. - Marinien
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