Chop Off One of His Arms for Me

Chop Off One of His Arms for Me...

The ember-steed touched down gracefully, and a trio of exquisite young women accompanied by a young man strode forward, their confident gaits prompting those around them to lower their heads in deference, unwilling to meet their gazes.

Fan Le's eyes sparkled; he couldn't help but marvel at how attractive these noble ladies from the prestigious clans were. Their beauty and air of nobility combined to create a captivating allure that entranced him.

Ouyang Ting stood in the center of the training ground, her gaze sweeping indifferently over the assembled contestants. She spoke in a bored tone, "Let the sparring begin."

"The two of you, step up," the young man who had escorted Qin Wentian's group to the Ouyang Estate urged them. Qin Wentian and Fan Le maintained composed expressions as they, along with six others, moved forward. Evidently, these were the chosen ones—or perhaps, the unlucky ones.

"Out of you eight, only two will prove worthy. Fight amongst yourselves; those who are too weak aren't qualified to spar with me," Ouyang Ting commanded coldly, prompting the eight participants to exchange wary glances.

Their cultivation bases hovered around the fifth level of Yuanfu, likely chosen precisely for that reason since Ouyang Ting herself was at the same level.

"BZZZ…"

Astral Souls materialized, as if vying for the approval of the young ladies before them. Wasn't this a chance to prove their prowess? They saw it as an opportunity that mustn't be missed.

"Not bad. These are all third-tier Astral Souls, and there are even two among you who possess fourth-tier Astral Souls. Quite rare," one of the females beside Ouyang Ting remarked, a faint smile gracing her lips. Having fourth-tier Astral Souls at their cultivation level would certainly grant them an advantage against opponents of similar strength.

"And that's a Skyember Demonic Lion Astral Soul, a beast that's ranked in the Warbeast Index. Though it ranks lower, it's still formidable," a young lady dressed in green exclaimed in surprise. The other participant's fourth-tier Astral Soul was equally impressive—an ice-attributed Astral Soul that imbued his attacks with frost's chilling concept, allowing him to comprehend ice-related techniques at a faster pace.

These two, thanks to their fourth-tier Astral Souls, deterred the other four from targeting them. Of the remaining quartet, two began their own battle while the other pair exchanged wary glances, each deeming the other as too formidable. Consequently, their attention shifted to the duo of Qin Wentian and Fan Le.

Qin Wentian and Fan Le, however, were even younger than their competitors. They were either brimming with unwarranted self-assurance or, simply put, naive. To top it off, they hadn't even unveiled their Astral Souls yet.

"Hey, hey. Let's not rush into anything," Fan Le chimed in, attempting to 'amicably' dissuade the two from focusing on them. Yet, his attempt only convinced the duo of cultivators that he was weak. Without hesitation, one of them surged toward Fan Le, wielding a blazing spear that carried the fervor of the Mandate of Flames—Ignition's initial level of insight.

A resounding boom echoed as Fan Le's Astral Soul burst forth. Possessing a fourth-tier Astral Soul as well, his third-tier Astral Soul radiated a searing heat, scorching the very air around him. His opponent squinted at the overwhelming heat. Still, he lunged forward with his fiery spear, its dragon-like ferocity stirring up a gale, embers dancing at its tip.

Fan Le evaded swiftly, conjuring an Astral Bow in his hands. His arrows, infused with the essence of his mandate, leaped from his bow with resolute intent.

His adversary responded promptly, twirling his spear to deflect the incoming arrows. But, he was taken aback as the arrows veered abruptly, targeting his head. Reacting hastily, he lifted his spear in defense, yet two more arrows zeroed in on him. Frustration flickered in his eyes—victory was already slipping away.

Qin Wentian's bout unfolded even faster. He met his rival's assault with a single palm strike, empowered by the Mandate of Force—Strength. Forgoing any elaborate techniques, he banked solely on his strength to suppress his opponent.

Qin Wentian's Astral Energy was drawn from fifth-tier Heavenly Layer constellations, a league above his adversary's fourth-tier energy. Moreover, the Fiend Transformation Art had bolstered his physique, rendering him as potent as a ferocious beast. Even without invoking the enhancements offered by his Astral Souls, he held an overwhelming edge. To subdue an equal-level opponent, he didn't need to employ his full strength.

The scene concluded, leaving only four contenders standing. Qin Wentian, Fan Le, and the pair of cultivators with fourth-tier Astral Souls were the survivors of the rigorous sparring.

"Well done, all four of you are qualified," announced the girl flanking Ouyang Ting with a laugh.

Ouyang Ting stepped forward, her finger pointing toward the young man boasting an ice-imbued Astral Soul. "You, come forward."

The young man nodded respectfully and advanced, clasping his hands. "I hope Miss Ting will go easy on me."

Ouyang Ting grinned. "Fear not, I won't maim you too severely. But of course, if you lack strength and I end up causing some crippling, you only have yourself to blame. Begin."

The youth's form blurred as he lunged, his fists casting shadows like a tempest. A surge of raw power surged forth.

"Too feeble," Ouyang Ting scoffed, saturating the air with her Mandate of Swords. The young man felt his movements constricted, paling as he recognized the second Mandate—Restriction.

The atmosphere suddenly chilled as the young man infused his fist with an icy Mandate, only for Ouyang Ting to dismiss it once more. Each of her utterances dripped with disdain. With a gesture, her whip transformed into a storm of slashes, filling the air with a sibilant hiss.

Swish, swish, swish…

A snap, and the whip transmuted into an array of razor-sharp blades, assaulting the young man's frozen shield till it shattered.

Qin Wentian observed, noting that Ouyang Ting possessed both power and skills that justified her arrogance. She wielded the Mandate of Sword and Restriction with finesse, subduing her adversary with her two-pronged assault.

"One more," Ouyang Ting called. The next contender—a cultivator with a Skyember Demonic Astral Soul—darted forth. His aura radiated ferocity, accompanied by the Mandates of Demons and Flames. The duo merged their attacks, creating a pressure akin to a realm of fire and ice.

But Ouyang Ting's whip strikes, resembling swords, carried an innate technique's potency. Her assaults intensified, overwhelming the challengers. Her lashings progressively grew fiercer, until shadows of her whip eclipsed the sky, a tide of sword qi accompanying them.

"Peng, peng…"

Two figures soared, blood trickling from their lips. Upon recovering, they rose, staring at Ouyang Ting with newfound admiration. This beauty wasn't just a highborn; her might eclipsed their combined strength.

"Acceptable for now. Stick together in the future. Strive to become even more potent, possibly mastering combination-type innate techniques. Know that I may call upon you for further sparring," Ouyang Ting declared with aloofness, her words a decree.

"Yes," they assented, bowing before retreating.

"The dynamic duo takes the stage," Ouyang Ting teased Qin Wentian and Fan Le, their expressions momentarily stunned. Fan Le shrugged—against same-level opponents, he was brimming with confidence. As for Qin Wentian, he had reached a level where he could vanquish foes of his own tier without breaking a sweat. This lady before them was certainly a grandmaster of grandiloquence.

"Nah, we wouldn't want to risk accidentally injuring you with our combined prowess. A one-on-one match would suffice. Now, who shall Miss Ting choose as her first dance partner?" Fan Le chimed with a laugh.

"Such audacious boasts. If you two can genuinely wound me, then the blame lies solely on my inadequacy. Yet, since your words are as audacious as your courage, let me impart a lesson to you," Ouyang Ting retorted with an icy edge, preparing for combat.

Qin Wentian stepped back, leaving the spotlight to his friends. Fan Le unveiled his Arrow-type Astral Soul and Blazing Flames Astral Soul, conjuring an Astral Bow.

Ouyang Ting surged forward while Fan Le's arrows whistled in the air. But with a flick of her wrist, her whip encased her form, an impervious shield against wind and missile alike.

The volley of arrows rained unceasingly, yet none managed to breach her defense.

"Hmph." Ouyang Ting closed the distance, her laughter frosty. Her whip cracked through the air, its biting lash aimed at Fan Le. He felt his movements constricted by an irresistible force, yet he remained unperturbed, simply watching his opponent.

RUMBLE…

An inferno erupted from his Empyrean Flames Bloodline, his eyes glowing golden. His arrows ignited with a fiery hue, forming a sequence of nine in a straight trajectory, aimed at Ouyang Ting.

Ouyang Ting's eyes widened, attempting to block with her whip, only to find her actions hampered by a peculiar telekinetic force, slowing her responses. This momentary lapse created a slender opening in her defense, allowing the arrows to pierce through.

Fan Le's arrows were swift, fierce, and cunning.

"Watch out!" a voice cried from behind. Ouyang Ting summoned her Astral Soul as a luminescent shield enveloped her.

Bzzz…

The arrows roared towards Ouyang Ting's throat, creating a turbulent vortex of air around her. Though the arrows gradually lost their velocity, the onlookers couldn't help but shudder at the display.

Fan Le smirked. "Miss Ting, I'm aware of my limits."

For a brief moment, the air seemed to solidify, a subtle pallor sweeping over Ouyang Ting's face. Fan Le's earlier attack had been unexpectedly potent. She had never encountered such a perilous situation while sparring. That sensation of being caught off guard, accompanied by an impending dread that made her heart pound and her body drenched in sweat, left her uncomfortable and unsettled.

"Chi…" Ouyang Ting made a swift move. Her whip lashed out, and Fan Le's expression changed drastically as the distance between them proved too close. The oppressive force of restriction hindered Fan Le's evasive maneuvers, rendering him vulnerable to the oncoming assault.

Peng!

An audible crack resonated through the air. Although Fan Le had managed to narrowly dodge the strike, he couldn't escape unscathed. The whip's blade-like edge tore through his clothing, leaving a gash that marred his flesh. His quick reflexes had spared him a graver wound, but the injury was still bleeding and painful.

"What on earth are you playing at?" Fatty fumed. While he had a penchant for admiring beautiful women, Ouyang Ting's conduct had exceeded all bounds. Mere moments ago, she had boasted of her prowess, yet now she had resorted to a cheap shot.

In combat, even in a sparring session, there were always risks. Asking for their all-out effort only to pull a sneak attack was far from honorable. After all, he had adhered to her instructions while also ensuring he didn't truly harm her.

"You're courting your own demise," Ouyang Ting's companions declared, their demeanor chilling.

"Filthy scum," muttered the duo who had escorted them from Qiyun, their eyes brimming with animosity.

Qin Wentian's gaze turned frigid as he absorbed the scene. This wasn't sparring; it was treachery in a different guise.

"Sever one of his arms," Ouyang Ting commanded, her tone devoid of emotion. Instantly, a surge of murderous intent emanated from Qin Wentian and Fan Le.