Leng Lingpeng formed a fist seal in his hand, icy crystals glinting with a sinister chill within. His inner force exploded, scattering the Moon Eclipse Linglong had unleashed. Yet he too suffered a blow from hidden force; his bluish-purple skin seemed sliced by an invisible blade of qi, leaving behind a shallow bloody mark that pierced to the bone.
His martial arts were inferior to Linglong's, but relying on the mysteries of the cloak draped over him, he could still hold his ground. Yet when he saw Xiang Yang instantly kill Shao Yi, he could no longer remain composed, and unease churned within him.
"Shao Yi's spearwork was exceptional. His martial arts were about equal to mine, perhaps even a shade stronger. Yet he was so easily killed by Linglong's companion. That man is terrifyingly formidable. If he makes a move, I fear I will be dead within three or five exchanges."
A person's martial prowess was often not fixed, but rose and fell according to their condition. When one's momentum surged like a rainbow and all hearts stood united behind them, they could often unleash twelve parts of their usual strength, their combat power soaring.
But once worries took root in the heart and the mind became unsettled, one's martial arts could hardly be fully brought to bear. More often than not, defeat and death would follow.
Leng Lingpeng was caught in precisely this vicious circle. His martial arts were inferior to Linglong's, and he could only maintain an undefeated position through the cloak's power. Yet with a hostile enemy eyeing him like a tiger nearby, fear and misgivings filled his heart. His defeat and death were merely matters of time.
What made him even more desperate was that he could not see the slightest hope of escape. Other