Blood still dripped from Chen Wuya's fingertips, each crimson drop falling onto the shattered stones like sparks scattered by the wind. He did not lower his head to inspect the wound. Instead, he raised his left hand, palm facing the sky, fingers slightly spread. Misaligned Force surged from the Laogong Acupoint. No longer a single straight current of energy, it spread outward like a spiderweb, twisting and winding through the air to form an irregular yet dense barrier of force.
The guardian leader gripped his short blade tightly in his right hand, its point aimed forward as black flames flickered along the edge. He stamped down hard with his left foot and shot forward like an arrow, the blade's gleam slicing through the air as it went straight for Chen Wuya's throat. The strike was so swift it scarcely left a trace—a killing move tempered through years of life-and-death combat.
Yet halfway through its path, the blade seemed to strike an invisible membrane. Threads of Misaligned Force wrapped around it, trembling faintly as they diverted its trajectory by three inches. The leader twisted his wrist, trying to break free, only to find those threads of force crawling up the hilt and toward his arm like living things.
His pupils contracted. He immediately withdrew, flinging the short blade from his grasp. It stabbed into the ground.
"Your force... isn't the circulation of true qi." He panted, his voice low. "It's turbulence."
Chen Wuya did not answer. His right foot slid forward, and he staggered out sideways, his shoulder swaying as though he could barely keep his balance. Yet just as the leader retreated, his left knee bent backward, and he kicked off the ground in an almost twisted posture. Misaligned Force surged upward from his tailbone in reverse, erupting with a