Chapter Thirty: The Black Lotus

The black lotus bud, condensed from a sinister fighting aura, floated in the air, occasionally releasing wisps of dark mist that lent it an eerie atmosphere. Though it was not a tangible object made real from the intangible, it exuded an elusive, unfathomable presence. To shape one’s fighting aura into such a vivid form—no one would believe this was meant for mere display. What kind of technique was this?

A chilling smile crept across Su Yi’s twisted face. With a wave of his hand, the black lotus bud shot toward the pitch-black sphere of fighting aura. “Go!”

Within the orb, which acted as a defensive barrier, the mysterious elder sensed the oncoming threat. Though the black sphere was formidable in its defense, it had a fatal flaw: it cut off sight of the outside world. Yet, for someone who had reached the elder’s level of cultivation, this was of little consequence—his powerful soul perception allowed him to sense everything around him.

Although his own strength was sealed, the elder’s soul force remained. In this illusionary realm, where spiritual power reigned supreme, he could still wield his former might.

The elder gave a low, confident chuckle. With his robust defenses, he could simply stand his ground and let his opponent exhaust himself. Even if the sphere were damaged, he could restore it with a fresh surge of fighting aura. Still, prudence dictated he avoid unnecessary risks and perhaps evade with his floating form.

But before the elder could act, the black lotus bud trembled violently in midair, then shot toward the fighting aura sphere like a bolt of lightning. Before he could react, it landed softly on the sphere, like a seed settling on earth.

The black bud rested there quietly, and then, as if drawing nourishment, it began to bloom. Petal by shadowy petal, the black flower unfurled in concentric layers around its stem. The display was strikingly elegant, but the faint, ominous mist that seeped from the petals sent a chill down one’s spine.

As if to confirm this sense of dread, the fighting aura sphere shrouding the elder suddenly shuddered. Ripples coursed through its surface, and with each pulse, the black aura seemed to be siphoned away, fading steadily.

As the sphere’s color lightened, the overlapping petals clinging to its surface unfurled, opening wide like the gates of darkness. Twisting and swaying as if alive, the once modest bud had expanded into a massive black lotus.

The elder inside was the first to sense the sphere’s weakening. Alarmed, he realized he was in grave danger. He had not yet reinforced the sphere with fresh fighting aura when he caught sight of the enormous black lotus. His hand shook, and the fighting aura he had meant to unleash was forcibly suppressed.

“Black Lotus!” he thought in silent shock. With his experience, he instantly recognized the flower. It was a dark fighting technique that absorbed the opponent’s aura as nourishment, causing the lotus to grow ever larger. But its true terror lay not in its growth, but in—

Explosion.

That’s right—explosion! The larger the black lotus, the more devastating its blast. In the past, an entire group had used this technique, absorbing the fighting aura of every cultivator in a city before detonating the lotus and destroying the city in a single cataclysmic act. Such city-razing carnage made the Black Lotus a technique to be feared. More alarming still, in the hands of a true master, a single lotus could not overturn the heavens. But if one unleashed a rain of black lotuses from the sky, it could bring mountains crashing down and the earth to ruin.

Now, the elder found himself in a dire predicament. If he continued to release his fighting aura, it would only feed the black lotus, making the eventual explosion more powerful—a case of handing his own strength to his enemy for his own destruction. But if he stopped, he could not be sure the weakened sphere would withstand the blast, and it seemed it would soon be entirely consumed by the lotus regardless.

Before the elder could make a decision, Su Yi made it for him. The corners of his somber mouth twisted as he spat out, “Explode!”

The black fighting aura lotus, blossoming in eerie majesty, suddenly contracted and twisted as if in pain—then erupted in a violent explosion.

Boom!

A massive wave of black energy burst forth, surging like a tidal wave with thunderous roars that seemed to swallow up the world. The sky was veiled in rolling clouds of darkness, casting enormous shadows over the land. Only after a long while did the thunderous clamor begin to fade.

The turbulence subsided, and from the dissipating gloom, a lone figure staggered out—none other than the mysterious elder. He was clearly gravely wounded; his black robe was torn in several places, revealing bloodied skin beneath. The wound on his chest oozed fresh blood with every ragged breath.

Coughing involuntarily, he struggled to steady his chaotic breath and the surging fighting aura within. Anger flared in his heart.

Damn it! To think I could be injured by that little bastard!

If only I had a weapon… He touched the storage ring on his finger with regret. Inside were two weapons, either of which would vastly increase his power. But in this purely spiritual illusion, there was no way to retrieve items from the ring. He could, perhaps, use soul force to conjure a facsimile, but it would be a waste of energy for little gain.

It would be like trying to start a fire by drilling wood with a massive input of fighting aura, rather than simply using a spark. Weapons conjured from soul force were still just soul force; they lacked the true properties of their real counterparts, and thus their full power.

For instance, a sword with a wind-elemental magic core required only a little aura to unleash devastating wind blades. Here, a conjured sword would be nothing more than a sword. To hurl a wind blade, he would still have to expend his own force. In that case, it would be more efficient simply to attack directly without the illusory weapon.

Frustration mingled with his anger. Ever since he was wounded and sealed, his strength had plummeted; without relying on soul force, he was no match for his opponent. Yet, despite the boy’s bizarrely potent soul power, surely his fighting aura couldn’t be as monstrous. If so, in the real world, with the power of the Mystic Dragon Tendon and his own skills, he should be able to handle him.

Suddenly, a chill swept through his heart—a killer’s instinct honed by countless battles warning of imminent danger.

Sweeping his gaze around, he realized Su Yi had vanished.

He spun around reflexively, just as a devastating force crashed toward him—a fist wrapped in fierce winds, growing larger in his vision. The air screamed as it tore through space, sending a chill of terror down his spine. If that punch landed on his head, he would be gravely, if not fatally, wounded.

With a low shout, the elder leapt backward, his aura surging as he conjured a black, circular shield before him.

Su Yi, face twisted in a savage grin, swung his fist, smashing it directly into the elder’s fighting aura shield.

A thunderous crash resounded as the shield exploded. The impact hurled Su Yi back several steps, while the elder was blasted from the sky like a cannonball, crashing down into the earth.

The surging river and boundless forest had vanished, replaced by a rugged, stony mountainside.

The elder landed amidst a field of jagged rocks, sending shattered stone and dust flying everywhere.

Above, the black energy waves still rolled across the sky, and nearby, a solitary figure hovered in midair, a terrifying presence mingling with the darkness, like an ancient demon returned from the abyss.

Having punched the elder from the sky, Su Yi slowly withdrew his fist. Blood from the recoil trickled down his hand, but his sinister face was alight with savage delight. His eyes burned with murderous intent as he gazed at the fading dust on the ground below.