Chapter 5055 — Gravely Wounded

But he had never imagined that all of it was merely a deliberate illusion Wei Zhao had crafted. The blood spirit cats were formidable indeed, and truly the natural nemesis of spirit-bodies and the like—yet they too were spirit-creatures, and like all spirit-creatures they dreaded alchemical fire above all else. Even a thing like the ghostly entity was held in check by alchemical fire, to say nothing of them.

"I'm fine..." Wei Zhao forced a smile, his steps unsteady and reeling.

"Really?" Leng Leng's expression changed at the sight of his frail state, and she hurried to steady him—only to find what she grasped was light and insubstantial. There was still some semblance of solidity to it, but it was plainly no longer as it had been.

That frantic savaging by the blood spirit cats had indeed been a calculated ruse, a bitter-flesh stratagem taken in stride—yet Wei Zhao had paid a grievous price all the same. His spirit-body now teetered on the brink of collapse, and even sustaining its materialized form was an immense strain.

"To think it was a madman's spirit-body! You had alchemical fire all along, yet you wouldn't use it first thing—you just had to endure nine blood spirit cats to ambush me instead. Do you want to die together with me that badly?" Sun Baimei struggled to his feet across from him.

First blasted away by the true-qi bomb, then mauled by the backlash of the blood spirit cats, and on top of that taking two of Wei Zhao's raging Fire Trigrams Palms at such close range—his injuries were now beyond measure. That he could still stand at all was nothing short of a miracle.

"Die together... you overestimate yourself..." Wei Zhao smiled with difficulty. All he had to do was return to his true body on Cloud Terrace Island before his spirit-body collapsed. So long as he himself did not wish to die, no one in this mortal realm could truly kill him—at most they could inflict grave damage upon his spirit-body.

"Is that so? You think you've won?" Sun Baimei suddenly gritted his teeth and forced his left sleeve upward. That incomparably powerful suction surged forth once more. Even at his peak Wei Zhao would have found it hard to withstand head-on; now, weakened to this degree, he had not a shred of resistance left. He was sucked straight toward it.

Wei Zhao's heart lurched. He had not expected the thing to still have the strength to bite back at this stage. Once he was truly drawn into that sleeve, he had no idea what might happen. The safest course was to dissolve his spirit-body on the spot.

But at that moment Leng Leng suddenly appeared before him. Though her injuries made movement difficult, she clenched her teeth and launched a desperate, suicidal assault—if Sun Baimei would risk everything, could she not do the same?

This move of Sun Baimei's was a technique made specifically for dealing with spirit-bodies and the like. Against a normal cultivator such as Leng Leng it might still have some effect, but greatly diminished—at most it could draw a person over, not seal them within his sleeve. It carried no true lethal force.

Not only was it useless, but it actually drew Leng Leng to his side all the faster—she was practically courting death.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three kicks in quick succession landed on his left arm, his chest, and his torso. Frost spread instantly across Sun Baimei's body—the power of the shattered-ice constitution was displayed in all its fullness at this moment—and he toppled straight backward like a felled post.

Her injuries weakened the force of Leng Leng's blows. But the chilling effect of the shattered-ice constitution was lethal enough—far more than Sun Baimei, himself gravely wounded, could withstand.

"Hah... hah..." Having spent the last of her strength, Leng Leng dropped to one knee on the spot, panting raggedly. Even so, she forced herself up off the ground, her face full of worry as she looked at Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao had steadied himself again, but he was now fainter and more transparent than before—one felt a casual gust of wind might scatter him, and soon he would be much like any other spirit-body.

"Can you hold on?" Tears streaked both of Leng Leng's cheeks. Even a fool could tell something was badly wrong with Wei Zhao in this state; the next moment, perhaps, his spirit-body would be utterly destroyed.

"I can. How can a man say he can't?" Wei Zhao smiled weakly and jerked his chin toward Sun Baimei and Fei Yangsheng. "Let's deal with these two first. A snake not beaten to death turns and bites you—we can't afford to make the same mistake twice."

"All right, wait for me a moment." Leng Leng nodded. Battered as she was, she was the only one present still capable of moving—both Sun Baimei and Fei Yangsheng had been beaten into immobility, with no strength left to resist.

Leng Leng hobbled over with difficulty—when Sun Baimei, who should have been lying stiff and awaiting death, suddenly leaped to his feet. The sight gave both Wei Zhao and Leng Leng a violent start. To spring up even now—the man was practically an unkillable cockroach!

Yet once on his feet, Sun Baimei did not strike at the two of them. Instead he seized the long-unconscious Fei Yangsheng and, the pair of them, leaped straight out through the shattered window behind him.

Leng Leng rushed to the window, only to see the two had already hit the ground. They had not fallen to their deaths or been knocked senseless—instead they were scrambling and limping away out of the residential compound.

"Those two have astonishing vitality." Wei Zhao came over on unsteady feet as well, shaking his head with a bitter smile at the sight. By his reckoning both Fei Yangsheng and Sun Baimei should have been doomed men—that they could still escape like this left him at a loss for words.

"Shall I go after them?" Leng Leng knew well the gravity of letting these two go. Forgetful of her own injuries, she made at once to leap in pursuit.

"Let it go. Don't chase a cornered foe." Wei Zhao shook his head. Had Leng Leng been lightly wounded, it might be worth considering—but as things stood, even if she caught them, what if Sun Baimei still had enough left in him to fight to the bitter end? Or what if, during the fight just now, other cultivators had been drawn to the commotion?

The more he weighed it, the greater the risk seemed. They had no choice but to let the two go.

"All right then..." Leng Leng nodded in agreement. It was not danger to herself she feared—what mattered was that Wei Zhao's present condition left her deeply uneasy. She urged him at once: "Get back inside. The wind is strong out here."

"You really are afraid a gust will blow me away, aren't you?" Wei Zhao smiled bitterly as Leng Leng helped him back into the inner room.

It was a slight exaggeration, but in truth it was not far from the mark. He could distinctly feel that thread of spiritual connection to his true body growing ever fainter! According to Steward Sun of the Transmission Hall, once this sign appeared he must dissolve his spirit-body and return as quickly as possible—otherwise, once the connection was lost entirely, it would be the end of him.

"Tell me the truth—can injuries like these really heal?" Leng Leng asked, her expression grave as she looked at Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao grinned with great effort, but before he could speak, Leng Leng suddenly threw herself against him and burst into bitter weeping. This little cold fish who kept the whole world at arm's length was clinging tightly to him, crying until she was nothing but tears. (To be continued.)