Chapter Forty-Nine: Lin Fan Gravely Wounded

In that instant, the expressions on Zhang Yi and the others’ faces changed dramatically. Without any hesitation, they all darted away into the distance.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Their figures vanished from where they stood, reappearing a hundred meters away in the blink of an eye.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Lin Fan and Old Seventh Zhang were locked in a frenzied battle; blades flashed and energies roared as they exchanged blows at blinding speed, neither giving ground. Their destructive power gradually extended beyond twenty meters from the center of their clash.

Within that radius, where Zhang Yi and his subordinates had just stood moments before, the unicorn horses they left behind had already been reduced to mangled fragments of flesh and bone—an utterly gory sight.

The entire snowy field was now dyed crimson, transformed into a hellish landscape strewn with bloody chunks of meat, entrails, horse heads, and shattered corpses.

“How can he be this powerful?”

They stared at Lin Fan, who was now locked in combat with Old Seventh Zhang, each of them wearing an expression of utter disbelief.

They had already investigated Lin Fan thoroughly. He was but a mid-level practitioner in the Qi-guiding Realm. The initial assessment that he was a perfect body-refiner had surprised them, but it was only due to some opportunities that he could contend with early-stage Qi Pulse cultivators.

But Seventh Uncle was at the very peak of the Vein-penetrating Realm, only a step away from advancing to the mid-stage. No matter how formidable Lin Fan’s combat strength, he shouldn’t have been able to withstand Seventh Uncle for even a moment.

Yet, at this very moment, Seventh Uncle had not managed to defeat Lin Fan in a single move. On the contrary, he was locked in a fierce battle with him.

“Young man, you must have been hiding your true strength. I don’t know by what means you concealed it, but if I’m not mistaken, your real cultivation is at the Qi Pulse Realm!”

“What’s more, your physical power is extraordinary—you must be a body-refiner as well. Your strength is just a sliver away from the power of one cauldron, equal to that of a Vein-penetrating cultivator. Your every strike carries the essence of the blade, which is why you can barely match me!”

As time passed—a measure of a cup of tea—Old Seventh Zhang’s breathing was steady and his face showed no fatigue, but Lin Fan was beginning to falter; blood began to stain his body.

“You’re impressive. I suddenly don’t want to kill you. If you agree to sign a contract with me, serve the Zhang family from now on, and surrender your cultivation technique, I can spare your life.”

Old Seventh Zhang spoke while trading blows with Lin Fan.

At first, Lin Fan had truly startled him by taking his strike head-on. But as the duel dragged on, he realized Lin Fan was not as formidable as he’d first imagined.

Apart from the first move, which Lin Fan blocked directly, he had avoided the rest as much as possible, always seeking close combat. Even with the essence of the blade, his strength was still far inferior.

Lin Fan now relied on the sharpness of his blade to keep Old Seventh Zhang at bay; he dared not block with bare hands. As the battle continued, Lin Fan’s aura began to wane—a clear sign of depleted energy.

He concluded that Lin Fan’s talent was extraordinary—he had grasped the blade’s essence and cultivated a supreme technique, one even more powerful than the famous ones he knew, especially for strengthening the body.

He no longer wished to kill Lin Fan—he wanted to claim him instead.

If Lin Fan were bound by contract, serving the Zhang family, it would be an immense boon for the family’s future.

If properly protected, Lin Fan would one day become a River Realm powerhouse—someone who could walk unchallenged across the entire Ice and Snow Kingdom. And if he obtained Lin Fan’s cultivation method, Old Seventh Zhang himself might step into the Stream Realm.

This thought set Old Seventh Zhang’s heart ablaze; even his gaze seemed to burn as he looked at Lin Fan—not with the coldness reserved for the dead, but with the hunger of a hunter eyeing prized prey.

“Your judgment is keen. You want a contract? Fine. You can sign one with me and become my slave. I’ll even grant you a cultivation technique.”

Lin Fan’s voice was calm. He saw through Old Seventh Zhang’s intentions with a glance, parrying blow after blow.

To speak truthfully, Old Seventh Zhang’s insight was sound. Lin Fan owed his ability to fight for so long to three things: his mastery of the blade’s essence, his pure energy on par with the Qi Pulse Realm, and—most crucially—the bloodline of the First Shaman he had consumed, which had multiplied his strength many times over.

At the peak of the Qi-guiding Realm, a body-refiner possessed strength equal to a hundred thousand catties; at the peak of the Qi Pulse Realm, a million catties; and upon breaking through to the Vein-penetrating Realm, ten million—the legendary “power of one cauldron.”

A single cauldron’s strength was the mark of an early Vein-penetrating cultivator; mid-stage wielded a hundred cauldrons, and at the peak, a thousand.

After consuming the First Shaman’s bloodline, Lin Fan’s body had been greatly enhanced, reaching nine million catties of strength.

At present, his energy was far inferior to Old Seventh Zhang’s, but with the essence of the blade, he could unleash the strongest attacks with minimal energy—every strike could reach the pinnacle of the Qi Pulse Realm.

Thanks to the blade’s essence, Old Seventh Zhang’s moves were greatly weakened, for he himself had not yet comprehended any essence.

Under this influence, Old Seventh Zhang could not bring even half his true strength to bear.

Lin Fan, on the other hand, struck with the peak of the Qi Pulse Realm—far stronger than its pinnacle, though still not a true match for a full Vein-penetrating cultivator.

What, then, was the true pinnacle of the Qi Pulse Realm? How strong was it at its peak?

Lin Fan’s current condition could only be described as a half-step Vein-penetrating expert.

All things considered, their attacks were now evenly matched. Old Seventh Zhang was stronger, but only by a hair—no longer a contest of realms, but of equals.

His physical strength was not much weaker than the power of one cauldron wielded by an early Vein-penetrating cultivator. After all, battle depended not just on strength, but on skill as well.

All his abilities now were just a fraction weaker than Old Seventh Zhang’s—this was his peak.

The only reason Old Seventh Zhang hadn’t finished him was Lin Fan’s vast combat experience—so profound that even if Old Seventh Zhang fought life-and-death battles for a thousand years, he could not hope to match it.

But now, Old Seventh Zhang had seen through him: Lin Fan’s experience was rich, his blade skills unmatched, but his energy could not sustain a true Vein-penetrating duel. He was beginning to weaken...

Throughout the fight, Lin Fan had tried to avoid using energy as much as possible, favoring close combat, relying on the sharpness of his blade and the ferocity of his moves to contend with Old Seventh Zhang.

However, things were never so simple; every time he dodged Old Seventh Zhang’s attacks, the energy he expended was immense.

After all, this was a battle with a Vein-penetrating expert—every exchange was blisteringly fast, dozens of moves passing in a blink. How could his energy not be rapidly depleted?

Now, no matter how rich his experience, faced with Old Seventh Zhang’s overwhelming strategy of brute force, he was beginning to falter.

“Become your slave? Receive your cultivation technique? Hahaha...!”

Hearing Lin Fan’s words, Old Seventh Zhang burst into furious laughter. He had meant to give Lin Fan a chance, but Lin Fan dared speak so brazenly—he would make him pay dearly.

He was certain that, when faced with death, Lin Fan would finally submit.

With that resolve, Old Seventh Zhang’s assault grew fiercer. He could see Lin Fan’s energy was nearly spent—how could he let such a rare opportunity slip by?

This time, he abandoned his palm techniques, instead flicking his ten fingers. Instantly, sharp currents of energy shot forth like countless arrows, raining down on Lin Fan.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Energy-formed, razor-sharp fingers grazed the edge of Lin Fan’s robes as he narrowly avoided them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Each finger-shaped blast gouged deep craters into the ground.

After several more exchanges, Lin Fan’s body suddenly stiffened. His face changed drastically—he was exhausting his energy too quickly and could not keep up.

Seizing the moment, Old Seventh Zhang pressed the attack; his fingers struck Lin Fan, leaving several bloody holes in his body. Blood sprayed in all directions.

Lin Fan’s face turned pale, but he gritted his teeth and slashed out with his blade, forcing Old Seventh Zhang back before leaping away.

“I’ll give you one last chance. Submit, or die!”

Seeing Lin Fan land on the ground, pale and wounded, Old Seventh Zhang did not pursue. He stopped some distance away and spoke in a deep, solemn voice.

The last flurry of finger strikes had already gravely injured Lin Fan.

He was certain Lin Fan’s wounds were severe, and with his energy depleted, there was nothing left to fear.

This was his final offer. If Lin Fan refused again, he would not hesitate to strike him down with a single blow.