Two Heroes Battle Again, Victory Uncertain

Chen Wuya's finger was still pointed at Wu Chi, the bead of blood at its tip not yet dry, darkening to a deep red in the wind. He did not lower his arm. Instead, he drove every last ounce of strength in his body into that index finger, as if he meant to slice through the air and nail down his opponent's retreat.

Golden light flickered intermittently through his meridians like embers on the verge of dying out, each pulse tugging at the dull ache deep in his ribs. Yet he did not lower his head to inspect his wounds, nor did he wipe away the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He knew that if his gaze shifted by even a fraction, he would not be able to hold on to this breath.

Wu Chi stood where he was, his massive axe angled toward the ground, his brow furrowing ever tighter. He was not intimidated by that finger. Rather, he had seen the course of the power inside Chen Wuya's body—it did not follow the proper meridians, but ran instead through severed channels, and yet it could unleash such force. This was not martial arts. It was crooked logic—yet that crooked logic had produced something real.

The cracks in the sand between them had yet to close, like a gaping mouth waiting to swallow the loser.

Chen Wuya drew a deep breath, the fishy stench of poisonous smoke still lingering in his nostrils. He shut his eyes for an instant as Misaligned Force surged backward through the eight extraordinary meridians, and the system buzzed in his mind: [Error path loaded—abnormal true qi backflow. Force connection?]

Connect! he roared inwardly.

In an instant, a torrent of heat exploded from his tailbone and shot straight for the crown of