Chapter 65: Hidden Weapons
In the end, Xiao Wu still took the injured Zhu Zhuqing to the side to rest.
Now, only Luo Ling and Tang San remained in the field—aside from Ning Rongrong, who was still hidden under his invisibility technique.
"So it's just you two brats left. The incense is only halfway through," Zhao Wuji said, stretching his neck, clearly enjoying himself.
Luo Ling's expression didn't change. He cast a glance at Tang San.
It was obvious—compared with how things happened in the original timeline, this Tang San and Xiao Wu pair lacked the seamless cooperation they once had.
And without the crystal he had snatched yesterday, Tang San had no weapon capable of piercing Zhao Wuji's defenses.
"Heh, Teacher Zhao, don't forget—the rule is simple. As long as we endure until the incense burns out, we pass."
Luo Ling's lips curved with a faint smile.
Before Zhao Wuji could react, Luo Ling's feet left the ground—rising slowly into the air.
Desire's Soul Garment granted him the ability to hover and fly.
Zhao Wuji froze. He, a Soul Saint, had no wings and no flying techniques. He could only glare helplessly from below.
"Brat! That soul skill lets you fly?!" Zhao Wuji shouted, utterly dumbfounded.
A strong-attack Soul Master with invisibility and flight? This wasn't normal anymore.
"Little San, keep him occupied until the incense burns out," Luo Ling said casually, smiling down from above.
Then, with a meaningful glint in his eyes, he added, "Your true strength isn't just this, is it?"
Luo Ling knew full well that Tang San's abilities went beyond what he showed—the Xuantian Record and those hidden weapons were dangerous tools, even if underhanded.
Hearing his words, everyone turned to look at Tang San.
Zhao Wuji was puzzled. He could sense Tang San's spirit power sitting comfortably at rank 29—outstanding for his age—but his Martial Soul was just Blue Silver Grass.
A weed like that becoming a threat? Impossible.
Tang San himself looked confused. How did Luo Ling know there was more to him?
Even Master knew little about the true power of the Xuantian Record. Tang San hesitated, but when he saw Xiao Wu's gaze, he clenched his fists and made up his mind.
He raised his head, meeting everyone's eyes.
"Teacher Zhao," he said solemnly, "I'm going all out."
A pulse of violet energy flashed across Tang San's eyes.
Zhao Wuji flinched, thinking it was a mind-affecting skill. He took a cautious step back.
But he quickly realized—it wasn't an attack.
Tang San didn't waste the opening. Both his hands dropped to his waist, touching the Moonlit Night Twenty-Four Bridges belt hidden there.
His palms flicked upward—
Sh! Sh! Sh! Sh!
Dozens of silver flashes erupted from his hands, each hurled with deadly accuracy.
They shot toward Zhao Wuji's eyes, throat, chest, joints—and even lower. Each one aimed for a vital point.
Luo Ling watched silently, his immense spiritual sense scanning over every projectile.
Each hidden weapon was made of cold-forged steel coated in venom potent enough to paralyze or kill an unguarded opponent.
Not bad, Luo Ling thought, though his expression carried a trace of disappointment.
These weapons were deadly among low-rank Soul Masters, perhaps even enough to trouble a Soul Honored—but compared to his own Raven Feathers, they were crude and simplistic.
Still, the precision of Tang San's throws… that was something worth noting.
The corners of Luo Ling's mouth lifted slightly.
Back in the field, Zhao Wuji finally reacted.
The rush of needles startled him; for an instant, his body stiffened in surprise. Then instinct took over—his massive bear palms came up and down, shielding his eyes and lower body.
With a roaring breath, his Immovable Vajra Body activated at full power.
Tang San didn't stop. After launching the first volley, he darted around the field using Ghost Shadow Perplexing Step, moving like a phantom.
Hidden weapons rained continuously, glinting with cold light.
Even Zhao Wuji was astonished—he'd underestimated this kid. The sheer variety and ferocity of those tricks were unnerving.
But after several rounds, he realized something—their impact couldn't penetrate his fortified defense.
Under full activation of the Vajra Body, none of the needles could break through.
Zhao Wuji grinned grimly. It was his turn.
"Third Soul Skill—Gravity Pressure!"
The ground trembled, and suddenly Tang San felt his body grow impossibly heavy. His knees sank; movement became sluggish.
Before he could adjust, Zhao Wuji's fourth ring flared.
"Fourth Soul Skill—Target Lock!"
The ring shot outward like a band of light, wrapping around Tang San.
Tang San's eyes widened. He'd never seen a skill like this. The moment it bound him, an ominous feeling filled his chest.
Still, he raised his wrist and unleashed another hidden weapon—a jet of compressed gas burst out from his arm-mounted launcher, spraying a fine mist and several steel needles.
This time, the needles pierced Zhao Wuji's protective aura. A few even embedded into his skin, their toxin spreading quickly.
Zhao Wuji roared, both startled and annoyed.
This slippery boy, hiding behind toys and poisons—attacking every weak point—he was like a damned eel he couldn't grab!
His pride flared. Enough fooling around.
The fifth ring beneath him glowed.
"Fifth Soul Skill—Gravity Crush!"
Pressure built like an avalanche. Tang San's body was dragged forward uncontrollably, flung straight toward him.
There was no time to dodge. His strongest weapon, Concealed Shadow Sand, couldn't do enough damage to save him now.
If only I had that crystal... The thought hit him bitterly—remembering Luo Ling's acquisition from yesterday.
His eyes widened in dread as a massive bear palm descended.
Just before it struck, Luo Ling moved.
His scythe gleamed with dark power, shadows flooding the air around him like rolling tides.
He didn't hold back. Boosted by Ning Rongrong's amplification, that single strike held the power to crush even a Soul Emperor.
Zhao Wuji, preoccupied with Tang San, never saw it coming.
"Dark Cleave!"
The cold, emotionless voice struck like thunder.
Goosebumps rippled down Zhao Wuji's arms. Compared to Tang San's hidden weapons, the darkness slicing toward him felt infinitely more fatal.
He spun around in panic, abandoning his attack on Tang San.
Both arms came up to shield his torso as his entire body blazed with golden light once again.
The black blade hit with a deafening impact.
Pain like fire raced up his arms. His mind blurred, his focus slipping under the assault. The moment his concentration broke, his Vajra defense faltered.
The black energy tore through him, sending his massive body hurtling backward several meters.
When Zhao Wuji came to his senses, both arms were trembling—raw, half-corroded, and drenched in blood.
"How… how is this possible?" he muttered, staring at the wounds in disbelief.
The pain burned fiercely—but more unbearable was the realization that such an injury came from a mere Soul Sect.
He was a Soul Saint—and he had been cut down.
(END CHAPTER)
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