Lei Bao turned displeased, angered by Yan Chong’s assertive gesture and he bellowed,
“So you wish to keep me here, Yan Chong?”
With his Sacred Relic, Eight Trigrams Bronze Mirror, Yan Chong revealed his perfidious side. There was no need to fear, not when he had his Sacred Relic with him.
“You need to understand, Brother Lei. A kingdom does not suffer the absence of a king, and the same could be said for our faction. Nothing is more important than the future of the Fire Dragon Palace.”
Lei Bao snorted at the sophistry and snarled angrily, “Very well, Yan Chong. You wish to become Lord of the Palace, ain’t that right? I’ll also be frank then. I DISAGREE!”
That wiped the smile off Yan Chong’s face that he looked threateningly dangerous. “It is true, Brother Lei,” he hissed, “I do wish to be lord. But this is the inevitable fact. Ask yourself, who among us is the most qualified?”
“That’s only because you have your Sacred Relic,” Lei Bao scoffed and derided, “Try fighting me without it. If I lose, then I’d gladly bend the knee to you. But if you lose, you’d better kneel at my feet and bow at my ankles three times before scurrying back to your Astrology squad and we’ll speak nothing of this ever again.”
“Piffle. My Sacred Relic is part of my constitution. Why should I not use it? You are welcomed to use yours,” Yan Chong taunted.
Lei Bao’s face turned into a shade of boiling red at not being able to counter.
“Does that mean you’d not give up unless we come to a solution, Chief Yan?” Winsome Widow remarked, looking absolutely glum herself. No one was any the happier at Yan Chong’s forceful insistence.
“I’m only concerned about the future of the Fire Dragon Palace,” Yan Chong parried.
Winsome Widow sneered frostily, saying, “Rich of you to say that. But for the record, we of the Flaming Fox say nay to you becoming Lord of the Fire Dragon Palace.”
Yan Chong’s eye blazed with cold fury.
Lei Bao paced to Winsome Widow’s side and stood with her. “Yan Chong,” he bellowed sardonically, “Can your Sacred Relic help you against the strengths of us both?”
Yan Chong’s chest rose and fell with his angered, barely-restrained breaths. He wanted the entirety of the Fire Dragon Palace. A Fire Dragon Palace that included all four of its subsidiaries intact. But it seemed nothing more than an impossible dream now.
He grinned wickedly at the notion and hissed dangerously, “So... you have both decided to persistently defy me?”
“Don’t think we’re not aware of your schemes, Yan Chong,” Winsome Widow retorted hotly, saying, “You wish to turn the Fire Dragon Palace into your personal army. We’d not agree to that.”
“Aren’t you the ambitious one,” Lei Bao observed dryly, “Come on, we’re not fools and even the blindest man can see what you’re trying to do.”
A composed Yan Chong looked mockingly at Lei Bao and Winsome Widow, all the while utterly ignoring War Tiger. “Very well,” he said, “Since you are unwilling, I see no reason to allow the continued existences of squads Flaming Fox and Torrid Tempest.
“And you believe you can?” Lei Bao growled disdainfully.
Sacred Relics might have terrible powers, but Lei Bao was confident that with both he and Winsome Widow fighting as allies, not even Yan Chong’s Sacred Relics could ever hope to defeat them.
“Of course, between you both, you’d think I’d really expect my Sacred Relic to be enough?” A sly and vicious grin formed on Yan Chong’s face. “Masters Zuo and Song, please show yourselves!”
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Two figures tore through the air with speeds as quick as lightning and they halted right beside Yan Chong.
The air around the two proud strangers burgeoned with their swelling auras and the swords they carried behind their backs only made them look all the more deadly.
A pair of First Grade Human Kings.
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow both looked equally dismal.
“Introducing our new guests,” Yan Chong declared gloatingly as he gestured at one of the newcomers, “We have here Master Zuo Ziqiu of the Sifang Sword Sect.”
He turned and gestured to the other, “And here we have Song Ding, also of the Sifang Sword Sect.”
“Yan Chong, how dare you consort with the Sifang Sword Sect?!” Lei Bao bellowed.
“That is where you’re wrong, Brother Lei,” Yan Chong denied, shaking his head, “This is a cooperation. A partnership for a great purpose.”
“We’re not here to be audience to your banter, Yan Chong.” Song Ding interjected imperiously.
Resentment flashed momentarily in Yan Chong’s eyes, although he concealed it well enough. He turned to Lei Bao and Winsome Widow. “I suggest you consider my offer. With the ongoing upheaval around us, this allows countless opportunities for us to join together for a common good. Why not work with me?”
Only, Winsome Widow looked no more interested than she was before. “We can work with kingdoms and empires to slay monsters and protect the people. That is freedom enough for us. But if you wish for us to be lapdogs to the Sifang Sword Sect, never.”
“I might be an oaf,” said Lei Bao, “But I know for certain what is right and what is wrong.”
Swoosh!
He was cut short by the glint of steel barreling towards him: Song Ding!
Lei Bao snarled. The air around him crackled with electricity and he delivered a punch at the incoming attack.
“You despicable knave,” Lei Bao cursed. His brief contest against Yan Chong had wounded him lightly and Song Ding’s ambush had worsened the injury and more blood seeped from the corner of his lips.
“Since they dream of being heroes that would deliver the world from peril, let me kill him now. Let’s make him understand how inconsequential he really is,” said Song Ding, his voice sinister and thick with malice like the sword he grasped.
“Be my guest, Brother Song,” Yan Chong bowed and saluted, his lips twisting into a vicious grin.
Clang!
His sword escaped its sheath, and with it, its wielder was unnerving venom. The tip of the sword whistled through their air, giving off a dangerous sheen like the slippery scales of a venomous serpent lunging at its prey!
“Really, you think I, Lei Bao, would sit still like a sitting duck?”
Incensed, Lei Bao’s vast Inner Breath surged inside him as he sent one punch after another, his arms flailing wildly to send bolts of electricity at his opponent.
Bang!
A violent explosion ensued and the sword was blown away in the powerful shockwave that rippled from the collision.
Undeterred, Song Ding pushed forward, swinging his weapon. He stabbed and slashed mercilessly, with each stroke aiming towards any flaws he could find in Lei Bao’s defense.
The battlefield resounded again and again with Lei Bao’s thunderous roars. With his fists, he managed a stalwart defense in a gritting combat against his enemy with tiny bolts of lightning dancing around them to embellish their deadly duel of death.
Zuo Ziqiu’s eyes wandered to the lascivious curves of Winsome Widow, his eyes filled to the rafters with carnal hunger. With a curt look at Yan Chong, he said, “Leave her to me.”
Yan Chong naturally understood Zuo Ziqiu’s intentions and he gladly nodded his assent.
With a light kick of his heels, he glided gracefully but quickly towards Winsome Widow, clawing at her shoulder.
The pretty face of the woman let loose a cold snort. Confident of himself, Zuo Ziqiu had not even drawn his weapon and his fingers curled in anticipation of grabbing her shoulder.
Boom!
A sudden burst of flames from inside her forced him to instinctively retreat. But he was too late; Winsome Widow raised a hand and a tendril of flame shot from her hand, charging straight into Zuo Ziqiu’s chest!
Shocked, Zuo Ziqiu tried to maneuver away. Still, the bolt of flames slammed into his abdomen, its force propelling him for a hundred of meters away. A black, crispy mark speckled the front of his white robe and his eyes burned with anger.
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“You will regret this,” he hissed at Winsome Widow.
“And I’ll make a blind man out of you,” replied Winsome Widow with equal frostiness. She did not fail to notice the lecherous gaze he gave her just now.
Boom!
Coils of flames surrounded protectively around Winsome Widow and the air crinkled as if in fear of the mighty conflagration and she waved a hand, sending the coils stampeding towards Zuo Ziqiu.
Zuo Ziqiu drew his long sword and broke into a dance of steel. With quick and savage strokes, he charged headlong at the incoming attack.
Clang!
The flames hit on his sword squarely, sending up sparks and cinders that got picked up by ripples of energies erupting from the clash.
Clang! Clang!
Locked in a fierce fight, Winsome Widow’s powerful flame magic, the Consecration of Flames, allowed her to hold her ground against Zuo Ziqiu despite being weaponless.
Such was the battle between Human Kings, that the abrasive battle threw up sands and dust in the air, to be whisked away by the sweeping energies coming from any explosions that occurred.
Bang!
Lei Bao flew crashing to the ground, leaving a trail of blood in the air, and a terrible sword wound more than ten centimeters gashed across his chest with blood gushing out copiously from inside.
If he had not avoided it quickly enough with his first injury, his stomach would have been sliced half by Song Ding.
On the other hand, a frantic Winsome Widow, with her flames snaking around her in a defensive cocoon, held on defensively, retaliating every now then with never-ending streams of flames at her enemy.
Clang!
One of her strokes deflected Zuo Ziqiu’s sword and Winsome Widow, realizing her chance, sent another attack quickly that struck him in his shoulder.
Zuo Ziqiu grimaced with pain. The fabric over his shoulder burned to crumbles and his skin blackened and cracked. The flames burst and penetrated into him, roasting his tendons and veins from the inside.
Seeing this, Song Ding left the subdued Lei Bao and charged at Winsome Widow, his sword lancing straight at her.
Undeterred, Winsome Widow threw herself at him, eager to meet him in battle.
Clang! Clang!
More explosions ensued, and Song Ding was forced to be on the defensive with Winsome Widow relentlessly pummeling him with more attacks.
Boom!
Flames of red hue ignited to life at the center of her palm. She struck the blade of Song Ding’s sword, and it turned molten red. If it had been anything inferior like common steel, the sword would have long been reduced into useless lumps of smelted metal.
Yet suddenly, the roar of a dragon resounded from over her shoulders.
Bang!
A bolt of golden flash, forged in the shape of a dragon, speared through her in a blinding golden radiance. Winsome Widow winced at the blow and coughed up a mouthful of froth and blood and she slunk to the ground.
“You disgraceful worm, Yan Chong,” Lei Bao yelled in his bloodied belligerence.
With Song Ding holding off Winsome Widow, Yan Chong had ambushed her from behind using his magical bronze mirror.
“Survival of the fittest, my friend,” Yan Chong gloated, “You should worry more about yourselves.”
Song Ding appeared by his side, beaming down at Lei Bao devilishly and the steel of his sword emitted an echoing ring as Song Ding lunged, aiming for his heart.
Lei Bao could only glare with defiance. Inhibited by his grave injuries, he could not react fast enough and he braced for certain death.
Then came a sudden bang and something shot through the air, whistling at breakneck speed straight towards Song Ding.
“GET DOWN!” Yan Chong screamed.
Song Ding heard him. With his senses tingling wildly, he backtracked sharply, moving as quickly as lightning.
Swoosh!
A silvery ray of light shot right past his back, missing him cleanly. Next came a terrible boom; a huge explosion rose into the air, churning up a powerful storm that shook the trees and earth, pulverizing buildings and structures within its blast into mere ashes.
Everyone, especially Song Ding, felt their hairs stand and their skins crawling with a numbing chill. Beads of cold sweat rolled down Song Ding’s forehead as he reeled with fear.
Every head turned to look at War Tiger.
War Tiger looked equally dumbstruck himself. He did not expect a shot from the Pulse Cannon could be so destructive that it could kill even a First Grade Human King.
“You’re dead meat,” Zuo Ziqiu hissed insidiously with magical flames roiling inside him. Being the closest to War Tiger, he threw himself at his prey, swinging his sword to send forth a magical bolt that burst into sprays of tiny destructive particles.
Boom!
The attack utterly destroyed the Pulse Cannon, sending War Tiger flying into the air with a stream of blood in his wake.
“How dare you attack me, you insect,” Song Ding rushed towards War Tiger with his face mangled with malice. He only managed to survive all thanks to Yan Chong’s warning or he would have been blasted into smithereens, Human King or not. And for that, he would have War Tiger’s head as revenge.
Lei Bao roared, forcing himself to muster as much power as he could before he chased after Song Ding, eager to stop him from killing War Tiger.
He never once held inferiors like War Tiger in high regard, much less admired him. But War Tiger had just tried to save him and he could not watch him die in Song Ding’s hand.
But he was so badly wounded that he barely made ten meters before he staggered and threw up more blood, nearly collapsing to the ground.
Shocked but furious, War Tiger chuckled bitterly, beholding the sight of Song Ding storming towards him. How could he expect to escape from the vengeful attacks of a Human King bent on slaughtering him?
His face hideously warped by spite and fury, Song Ding raised aloft his sword and his powers swirled, preparing to smite War Tiger into oblivion.
Even before the stroke fell, War Tiger felt his blood running cold as he felt the staggering sensation radiated from the sheer amount of Sword Qi.
“DIE.”
The sword, its blade blazing in a glowing coat of blue, came down at him and behind it, War Tiger caught the glimpse of Song Ding’s cruel face.
Whoosh!
Another silvery ray of light flashed suddenly, screaming through the air with a sharp, shrill hiss.
Startled, Song Ding sensed it and he swung his sword desperately with a fierce sideswipe.
CLANG!
It was a silver spear. Its tip struck Song Ding’s blade, throwing up sparks everywhere and smashed the sword into splinters.
In one fell swoop, the sword was completely destroyed by the long, metallic dragon of a spear.
“Pftt!”
With blood sprayed like a fountain as the spear barreled through Song Ding’s throat, skewering him like a piece of meat as it continued its flight until it slammed into the rockface of a cliff several hundreds of meters away, pinning him there.