According to what Beitang Xing knew, once the pagoda's phantom enveloped him, it possessed an unmatched defensive power. Not to mention a mere Tan Cai'er—even his nominal master could only dream of killing him within three moves.
With three moves' worth of time to maneuver, he would have enough time to activate another treasure bestowed upon him by the imperial clan, the Sky Shuttle, and carve out a path to survival.
Unfortunately, for Tan Cai'er, he had wasted the Sky Shuttle. Still, he had the Three Treasures Exquisite Creation Pagoda. Under its protection, Tan Cai'er could do nothing to him.
On the contrary, so long as he bought enough time to force the poison from his body, he would not need to rely on the pagoda's power. His own martial cultivation alone would be enough to weather this crisis.
Of course, the power of three strikes did not mean that only a strike enhanced by heavenly means counted as one. Even if an Innate Martial Artist attacked, as long as the pagoda blocked it, it counted as one protection. After three times, the pagoda's power would disperse on its own.
Therefore, every single time was crucial.
Tan Cai'er's icy, piercing palm came crashing down, striking the pagoda's illusory aura without even raising the slightest ripple before being blasted back by an even more immense force.
With a crisp crack of breaking bone, Beitang Xing saw Tan Cai'er clutch the arm she had used to strike, crying out as she staggered several meters away. The bones in her hand seemed to have split, and she looked utterly listless, as though grievously wounded.
Beitang Xing threw back his head and laughed, hatred and delight in his eyes.
"Good, good, good! You bitch, this is the retribution you deserve."
As soon as the