Chapter Thirty-Six: With Ease

The night was heavy as thick ink. The figure of the black-robed man flickered in the darkness, his steps heavy and powerful. In the next moment, he charged like a phantom, his momentum fierce and menacing.

Ye Heng stood before the line, a resolute light gleaming in his eyes, as if he could pierce through every movement of the black-robed figure. His sword tip, cold as frost under the moon, pointed directly at the oncoming dark silhouette. His battle stance was brimming with coiled power, the blade shimmering with a biting chill that harmonized with the moon’s radiance, resembling a galaxy cascading from the heavens.

The black-robed man approached with heavy, rhythmic steps, each one seeming to land upon the heartstrings of those watching. His cloak snapped in the wind, the friction against the air echoing through the silent night like the beating of war drums, stirring the blood and heightening the senses.

Yet, Ye Heng remained as immovable as a mountain. His gaze was deep as an abyss, tracking every subtle movement of his foe. He seemed to have already divined the man’s weakness, his unwavering confidence piercing through the fog of night to strike at the very soul.

Ye Heng took a deep breath, his body taut as a bowstring, ready to loose a lethal arrow. Like a leopard crouching in the darkness, he waited for the perfect moment to strike.

"Now."

In a flash, Ye Heng lunged forward. Their figures intertwined under the moonlight, sword light and cold steel weaving a breathtaking scene. The black-robed man followed closely, his swordplay sharp and relentless; every swing whistled with a thunderous force that seemed to tear the very air apart.

Relying on astonishing speed and power, Ye Heng wove through the fierce onslaught. Beads of sweat sparkled like crystals in the moonlight—the mark of his total commitment and the testament to his tenacity. His movements were agile as a monkey, leaping and rolling, skillfully evading the black-robed man's fatal blows while seeking an opportunity to counter.

Their battle intensified, each clash perfectly matched, every collision ringing with the crisp sound of metal striking metal, the surrounding air shredded by their sword qi.

In that fleeting instant, Ye Heng’s eyes suddenly ignited with brilliant golden light. Channeling his full strength, he swung his blade, "Blazing Sun." As the tip pointed forward, the power of the stars converged, transforming into an incomparable, radiant arc of sword energy.

This strike was like the first light of dawn, instantly tearing through the deep night. Where the sword qi passed, it left behind dazzling golden trails. Though the black-robed man reacted with lightning speed, he had no way to avoid this thunderous blow. He could only watch helplessly as the sword energy struck like the scythe of death, ruthlessly cleaving him in two.

Yet, was that truly the case?

The black-robed man, seemingly sliced in half, dissolved into drifting maple leaves the moment the blade passed. The leaves swayed gently in the night air, like a silent elegy. Meanwhile, the black-robed man appeared quietly from another position, as if he had never been touched.

This sudden turn confirmed Ye Heng’s suspicions: the black-robed man was using a mysterious "Life-Weapon Art" of displacement. Though powerful, every such technique had a root. Once the true body was located, the illusions would be like trees without roots, destined to wither.

Ye Heng took a deep breath, his eyes flashing with resolve, and launched another fierce attack. This time, however, the black-robed figure seemed weaker, struggling against Ye Heng’s onslaught until, under a flurry of strikes, it collapsed.

The moment the illusion shattered, a sharp premonition surged in Ye Heng. He had not merely predicted the next location; he had caught the trail of the true body.

The black-robed man was shaken. He had always been known for his stealth and mystery, yet his secrets had been laid bare by this man. This sudden exposure filled him with genuine admiration for his opponent.

His "Hundred Maple Leaf Dance" was his pride and his greatest tool. Through years of cultivation, he had learned to merge his essence with nature, becoming a swirl of maple leaves that moved with the wind. Within this sea of leaves, he could teleport at will, making his movements impossible to track.

However, the technique had a fatal flaw: the casting time was too long. During this delay, he had to reveal his location. To compensate, he had integrated the art of illusions, allowing his "clones" to engage the enemy while he silently repositioned to deliver a fatal blow.

Seeing Ye Heng pierce directly toward his true form, the black-robed man did not hesitate; he emerged from the swirling leaves to meet the strike head-on.

A deafening explosion echoed through the air. Dust flew, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. As the dust settled, revealing the black-robed man, Ye Heng’s eyes were filled with shock.

Ye Heng: "This... how is this possible?"

He stared at the black-robed man, noticing that his sword, "Blazing Sun," had only torn a thin piece of fabric on the man's shoulder, failing to even graze his skin.

The black-robed man nodded slightly, a playful smirk on his lips: "You are indeed clever to break my 'Hundred Maple Leaf Dance' so easily."

Before he could finish, his hand moved like lightning, fingers hooked, aiming straight for Ye Heng’s throat.

Ye Heng felt an irresistible force bind him; his limbs were locked by invisible chains, leaving him unable to move.

"This..." Terror gripped Ye Heng’s heart. He had never imagined he would be so powerless against this man.

At that moment, the silent battlefield was shattered by a new arrival. Aishia descended like the light of dawn.

"Crimson Thunder Moon Slash—First Form!" Aishia’s voice was crisp and firm. With her shout, searing red lightning surged like a dragon, descending with destructive power toward the black-robed man. A flash of surprise crossed the man’s cold eyes. He was forced to release Ye Heng and dodge the sudden thunderous attack.

"Your opponent is me now." Aishia’s voice rang clear over the thunder. She stood tall, her eyes burning with determination, ready for a fight to the death.

The black-robed man curled his lip in a sneer, his voice laced with disdain: "Thunder Secret Arts? You have some talent. Since the fall of the Dragon Kingdom, those who cultivate thunder are rare. But do you know? True thunder arts are not so shallow. The one who taught you this imitation had the form but not the spirit."

Aishia remained unmoved, gripping her weapon tight. "Even if it is just the form, it is enough to trouble you. Today, I will show you what true thunder power is!"

As she spoke, the crimson lightning in the sky grew violent, threatening to tear the heavens asunder. The black-robed man darted through the lightning, seeking an opening.

Aishia: "Yes, I practice the Ten Thousand Wing Thunder Guard, but what gives you the right to call the Second Generation's art a failure?"

Black-robed man: "I speak the truth. Any technique that backfires on its master is a crooked path, devoid of value. If you think thunder arts are merely what you know, you are sorely mistaken. Thunder is the supreme power, the pinnacle of all laws. In the past, the Thunder Emperor used the Secret Arts of the Thunder Emperor to defeat countless ancient powerhouses—even gods, demons, and great emperors could not gain an advantage over him."

He paused, taking a deep breath as if inhaling the universe, then continued: "Why do I say your thunder arts are nothing? Because true thunder arts contain the power of heaven and earth to destroy all things. The Dragon Emperor, the Thunder Emperor’s only love, was the Emperor of Gods. With a single law of order, he could make galaxies collapse and the universe tremble."

The black-robed man’s smirk deepened, his gaze sharp as a blade: "So, do you see why I say your thunder arts are trash?"

She shook her head gently, a self-deprecating smile on her lips.

"Me? I am just an ordinary person." Aishia’s voice was light as a feather, tinged with sorrow but filled with unyielding resilience. She looked at her enemies, her clear eyes reflecting their grotesque faces. "You talk down to me from such heights; you hold me in too high regard."

"I am just a little girl who wandered the streets, living at the bottom of society, tasting the warmth and coldness of the world. Saved by my lover at the brink of death, I saw the light. Having experienced life and death, I understood true love and warmth. But I also know this world is filled with darkness and evil."

Her voice rose, as if reciting an epic tragedy.

"So, do not treat me as someone extraordinary, and do not mock me. Being alive in this world is already a victory," Aishia said with a touch of self-mockery. "I am just an ordinary person, but I am willing to fight to the end against you maggots in the dark for the sake of the justice and faith I hold in my heart!"

As she finished, the air solidified. A massive, peerless aura erupted from her petite frame like a long-dormant volcano.

"Ten Thousand Wing Thunder Guard. Second Form."

"Thunderbolt."

"Activate."

The aura swept across the battlefield like a hurricane, twisting the very air. Thunder flickered in Aishia’s eyes as she raised her palm, electricity dancing in her hand. With a crisp, piercing shout that seemed to transcend time, she struck at the hearts of her foes.

Ye Heng felt imbued with a mysterious power; his own aura surged, harmonizing with Aishia’s to form an irresistible torrent. He gripped his greatsword, golden lightning crackling along the blade, ready to sever all obstacles.

At this moment, Ye Heng and Aishia seemed to become one. Their attacks were like a thunderous storm, instantly enveloping their enemies. Bound by an invisible force, the enemies could not move a muscle.

Ye Heng, bolstered by Aishia’s thunder arts, launched a fierce strike. His greatsword, augmented by electricity, became incredibly sharp, every swing roaring with thunder, as if he were rending the world itself. Under this relentless assault, the enemy had no room to resist.

Seeing the tides turn, the black-robed man felt an unprecedented anxiety. His face darkened, and his rage erupted like a volcano. With a roar that split the air like thunder, he sent Ye Heng and the others scattering like autumn leaves. The invisible shockwave, like a massive tide, swept them into the heart of the storm.

For an instant, everything around them seemed to stop, save for the echoing roar that lingered in the air.

"Hehehe... Hahahahaha!"

The situation reversed dramatically. Red light flickered around the black-robed man, as if flames were burning within him, releasing astonishing energy. His aura climbed, his strength breaking through the peak of the S-rank Martial God and stepping into the realm of the SS-rank.

The black-robed man breathed in, his voice low and cold: "I did not intend this; I only wished to capture you quickly. But you pushed me, leaving me no choice." His gaze swept over them with undeniable majesty.

The pirates, who had been fighting the storm robots, breathed a sigh of relief, but just as they were about to thank Jack, they were crushed into pulp by his massive elephant hooves.

The opponent’s dominance left Delavo shocked and furious, the overwhelming fear making him panic, for he knew that if he did not submit, he would follow the fate of the previous governor.

"There is, but the ruler just stirred it," Yunxu said, looking embarrassed. But some gluttons didn't care; seeing the hot soup in the pot, they immediately rushed to serve themselves.

As they descended deeper, the bubble drifted away from the mangrove roots; the light and visibility faded, and the beautiful underwater scenery was replaced by darkness.

Not to mention, chatting with Ptah, who might one day replace Ra, would surely yield useful information.

Han Xun laughed. The mutant bloodline of Magneto mostly increased mental power; now, Han Xun’s own mental power exceeded a thousand points.

Thanatos vaguely felt that his usually gentle younger brother had become tougher; perhaps his departure had spurred his growth. Thanatos was happy to see such growth.

News of victory came from the arena, and Athens was filled with celebration. In these few days, the name heard most often was "Cadmus, Prince of Phoenicia." Having won the most championships, he had become the hero the Athenians admired.

"Mojie, come with me," Coach Scott said in his raspy voice.

After Huang Que left, Yunxu stood on the second floor looking for a cultivation manual, but the surrounding disciples looked at him with hostility, even intentionally forming a wall to block him in a corner.

Gu Yinhao stared thoughtfully at the sleeping Tang Wanwan—they looked exactly the same—then he got out of bed and followed Gu Jingshu outside.

With the final roar accompanied by the sound of straining muscles, a sonic wave swept across Alto's mind, forcing him to retreat.

Qi Yunmo didn't understand the situation at all, but relying on subconscious instinct, he flipped and pinned the man beneath him.

Though Mao'er’s combat power was not as fierce as Shui'er’s, his first soul-seizure affected the men, making them fearful. Mao'er took the opportunity to charge with his staff, looking majestic for a moment.

Lin Xiao couldn't control his temper. Well, he had never denied robbing the cradle, but this beautician—was it really necessary to slap his face so hard?

Lin Xixi gave Lin Xiao a look that said, "Are you crazy?" Why would a lecture make him so itchy?

"Let's eat first. I heard you're not a picky eater—what a good habit!" Liu Xiaofeng shed all her severity, treating Lin Xixi with gentle warmth.

The two looked at each other, almost certain that the light screen held a world of its own. Yu'er and the others must have entered, but there were two screens—which one should they choose?

Setting his cup down heavily on the table, Ming Yu gritted his teeth, stopped watching the commotion, and turned to leave.

He only hoped that in the years he lived, the people of Dayu, even the most ordinary commoners, would not suffer such self-pity.

She couldn't grasp such complex things and was always flustered; fortunately, she had the help of the Wang siblings.