Simuro’s twin wings spun and shielded his body, the swords forming his wings constantly shifting positions to block Quinn Shepherd’s attacks. But in the next instant, Drill Sword Form punched through his double-wing defense!
Simuro’s heart lurched in shock as pain shot through his chest—his golden, metal-like body couldn’t withstand the Drill Sword Form. He immediately flapped his wings, whipping up a violent gust.
Whoosh!
As the gale rose, Quinn Shepherd stepped onto the wind. Simuro’s eyes filled with terror—Quinn’s speed in midair actually outpaced his own flight!
Crippled Joe’s Heaven-Stealing Leg Art—peerless speed under heaven. If Simuro hadn’t whipped up the wind, Quinn would’ve struggled to catch him in the air. But with the gale, the sky was flat ground to Quinn.
“Go!”
Simuro barked, and the golden swords of his wings shot out one after another, stabbing toward Quinn Shepherd to keep him at bay. In an instant, his wings were emptied—only two golden, fleshy stubs remained.
His body immediately plummeted. Just then, saber-light crashed down like a waterfall, colliding with the flying gold swords. With a hiss, one golden sword pierced through Quinn’s saber-light cascade, stabbing into his left shoulder—precisely at the flaw, two parts into the scapula.
Quinn’s figure flashed to Simuro’s side, passing him by—a cold, gleaming saber swept across Simuro’s neck.
The saber-light was razor thin, slicing straight into Simuro’s neck and out the back—yet it seemed to leave him completely unharmed.
Simuro landed; one by one, the golden swords whirled back, assembling into two radiant wings behind him.
The two golden wings flared open with a whoosh, scattering beams of light in every direction.
“Well done, Senior Brother Simuro!” someone shouted, both shocked and delighted.
Other witches were roused, shouting, “Senior Brother Simuro, crush that Everpeace slave!”
“Everpeace folk are just two-legged sheep—fit for cultivation, not fit to live!”
...
Quinn landed; his flying swords swept in sequence, sliding back into the sword box strapped to his back.
The youth pulled the golden sword from his shoulder, still kneeling on the ground. His Goldsilk robe was mostly intact—the sword pierced through the cloth and into his shoulder blade.
So-called 'impervious to blades and spears' is never absolute; even his Six-Winged Gold Silkworm Goldsilk robe blocked the golden sword, but he was still wounded.
Beneath the golden platform, thunderous cheers erupted. Simuro stood tall with wings spread, basking in the applause as if savoring every moment.
Each of the eight skulls had eyes set deep in their sockets, making for a terrifying sight.
Though the hammer’s head was enormous, its handle was short—barely long enough to grip.
Dan Barrow gave the hammer a gentle shake, and the seven smaller skulls instantly popped open their eyes, the pupils spinning wildly. Then their jaws gaped, spewing streams of black smoke. The seven black clouds darted up and down like black dragons, surging straight for Quinn atop the golden hall.
Quinn’s flying swords shot out from his sword box, tips flicking to slice through the black dragon-heads formed by the smoke. But the swords quickly lost control and clattered to the floor.
Seven flying swords crashed onto the golden rooftop, still bouncing and clanging, with black qi writhing inside their blades.
Quinn instantly felt his yuanqi becoming tainted—a shock. Clearly, the Witch-Venerable Golden Palace Canon was as vast and multifaceted as the Grand Fostering Heavenly Demon Sutra, not just a single technique. Simuro had cultivated one path: sword-arts and divine abilities.
But Dan Barrow practiced another path—spell-arts and divine powers. Both cultivated the Witch-Venerable Golden Palace Canon, but walked different roads.
Quinn shifted his stance, and the golden tiles beneath him exploded with a crash. Black dragon-like smoke burst from the hall, weaving in and out, lunging straight for him.
The two figures darted and leapt across the golden halls, running even along the walls as if they were flat ground.
Suddenly, Quinn’s body sank—he dropped into the golden hall below. Dan Barrow sneered, swinging his massive hammer to smash through the hall and chase after him.
Boom—
A figure shot into the sky, hurling flying swords backward as Dan Barrow charged out behind him, riding a ribbon of black smoke that surged forward, driving him straight at Quinn.
Quinn crashed through another golden hall, darting inside to evade Dan Barrow’s assault. Dan Barrow stormed in after him, fierce and relentless; the witches and Grand Shamans of Loulan Golden Palace looked on, their spirits lifted and the gloom of moments before swept away.
This chapter isn’t over yet ^.^—click next page to keep reading!
The two raced across the golden halls scattered through the mountains, each intent on killing the other, drawing farther from the mountain gate.
Dan Barrow’s confidence grew, and his attacks grew fiercer. When Quinn fell into another golden hall, Dan Barrow followed, but was greeted by a magnificent landscape of mountains and rivers.
Sword Treading the Rivers and Mountains.
Dan Barrow felt himself shrinking rapidly, dropping into that vast landscape, panic rising in his heart.
Outside the mountain gate, everyone anxiously watched the golden hall where the two had vanished. After a tense moment, a golden figure leapt onto the rooftop, gripping the bone hammer in one hand and a severed head in the other.
The witches of Loulan Golden Palace erupted in deafening cheers. Lynn Ling’s face went ghostly pale, utterly lost. The Jadehide Ox was stunned, and Lina the Spirit Fox froze as well.
“The cowherd is dead...” Lynn’s mind went blank.
In front of the main hall, the Witch Kings of Loulan Golden Palace exchanged rare smiles, nodding to each other in approval.
“Dan Barrow is truly impressive—ruthless, steady, and exceptionally talented. A rare find.”
An elderly Witch King asked in surprise, “Why isn’t he returning to the main hall?”
‘Dan Barrow’ hopped back down into the golden hall below, never returning to the mountain gate. Another Witch King chuckled, “He’s probably injured. Dan Barrow is cautious by nature; if he’s hurt, he’ll heal himself immediately, leaving no loose ends. That’s another reason he’s so promising. Now there’s only that little girl left—she won’t last long. I wonder how the battle is going on the other side of the mountain?”
A few Witch Kings considered heading to the snow mountains to check the battle, but their orders kept them here, guarding the main hall.
Inside the golden hall, ‘Dan Barrow’ tossed the severed head aside and pulled out a scroll, carefully unfurling it for a closer look.
“Loulan Golden Palace’s treasury lies right beside this hall. I’m in the right place.”
He closed the map, stood up, and moved toward the door—then felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. He quickly fished out a jade bottle from his robe, glanced at it, and tucked it away again. “Almost grabbed the Lost-Mind Incense by mistake...”
He took out another jade bottle, carefully dabbed a bit of dragon-qilin saliva onto his shoulder wound, and soon the injury was healed, the pain gone.
‘Dan Barrow’ put the jade bottle away, thought for a moment, then hefted the Grand Guardian’s Sword and walked out of the hall, crossing a few steps to reach the next grand hall.
A turtle-backed golden guard stood watch at the entrance, axe and halberd in hand, his mouth like a frog’s and a shining golden shell on his back. Muscular and imposing, he was surprised to see ‘Dan Barrow’ approach. “Dan Barrow, what brings you here?”
His golden hue was richer than ‘Dan Barrow’s,’ but paler than the Witch Kings—his rank and power clearly below theirs.
“I slew the intruder blocking the gate and claimed a precious sword. I dare not keep it for myself, so I’ve come to offer it to the Holy Cult.”
‘Dan Barrow’ presented the Grand Guardian’s Sword with both hands, smiling. “I’m not a sword cultivator, so it’s of little use to me. I hope to exchange it for another treasure.”
The turtle-backed guard accepted the sword, drawing it with a metallic ring. The cold gleam made him squint in surprise. “What a sword! Even in my Golden Palace, few treasures can rival this one. You actually obtained it—the Witch-Venerable will surely reward you handsomely!”
He pushed open the hall doors. ‘Dan Barrow’ quickly asked, “May I also enter and pick out a treasure?”
The turtle-backed guard considered, then smiled. “Very well. You’ve done a great deed and offered such a treasure—the Witch-Venerable’s reward will be exceptional. But you may only look at our Golden Palace’s collection. You cannot take anything; only when the Witch-Venerable bestows it and lifts the seal can you claim it.”
‘Dan Barrow’ was delighted and quickly followed him into the golden hall.
The turtle-backed guard stood inside, carefully unlocking several layers of restrictions. He stepped forward, removed more seals, then produced a sigil-cube—a four-sided, fourteen-faced, twenty-four-cornered paper treasure folded from runes. Infused with yuanqi, it began to float and glow.
The sigil-cube grew brighter and began to spin, projecting the runes on each face into the air.
Under its glow, the air before them shifted from colorless and transparent to filled with countless translucent cubes. Inside each cube was a fist-sized, vicious little homunculus pacing restlessly, as if desperate to break out and devour someone.
——Third update; the fourth will arrive in ten minutes!