Golden Scales

After they each backed away, the wind in the clearing suddenly became much easier to hear.

Xie Xie stared at Tang Wulin without moving again right away.

Those few exchanges had already stripped away every trace of his initial contempt. Tang Wulin was slower than him, and his technique was clearly unpolished, but that hammer was too heavy, his strength too savage. If he got close, even a glancing blow would spell trouble.

Tang Wulin was watching Xie Xie too.

He lowered his shoulders slightly, gripped the hammer with both hands, and slowly steadied his breathing.

That last clash had made his shortcomings clearer—he could gain the upper hand for an instant, but could not seize the follow-up; he could force Xie Xie back, but could hardly pin him down. He had the strength, and the hammer had enough weight, but he was still a long way from turning that weight into a decisive advantage.

"This time, I won't give you another opening," Xie Xie suddenly said.

The instant his words fell, the Yellow Soul Ring beneath his feet flashed brightly.

He charged again.

But this time, he moved very differently.

Instead of repeatedly changing directions, he went straight, veered, then suddenly split into three less than five meters from Tang Wulin. He had not truly become three people. His speed had simply reached such an extreme that it left three brief, distinct afterimages in view.

Tang Wulin's gaze sharpened.

He could not tell them apart.

But he did not panic. He slammed the Star-Sinking Hammer into the ground, and his first Soul Ring lit up at the same time.

Bang!

A dull impact rang out.

The ground shuddered, and that familiar crushing pressure abruptly spread outward. The grass ahead bowed all at once, and even the air seemed to stall.

The image on the left dispersed.

So did the one in the middle.

The real Xie Xie had already cut in from the right.

He had clearly anticipated this move. His true destination had never been straight ahead. Using the afterimages and his momentum, he had slipped into the very spot Tang Wulin was least likely to notice.

Tang Wulin was too late to swing his hammer around.

Xie Xie thrust the Light Dragon Dagger forward. It brushed past the hammer's shaft, then slid inward along the edge of the Star-Sinking Hammer. It was neither a direct clash nor a straight thrust, but an exceptionally cunning approach.

In the next instant, the dagger's edge flicked toward Tang Wulin's right shoulder.

Xie Xie held back on this strike.

He only wanted to win, not cripple his opponent.

But even with his strength restrained, the Light Dragon Dagger was still the Light Dragon Dagger. The instant its tip pierced flesh, Tang Wulin's shoulder jolted violently. His clothes tore, and blood immediately seeped out.

The pain came fast and fierce.

Tang Wulin grunted, his body sinking lower. Even his right arm's grip on the hammer faltered.

Having landed his blow, Xie Xie swept past him at close range, giving Tang Wulin no chance to swing the hammer back at him. With a shift of his feet, he slid behind Tang Wulin, turned his wrist, and pressed the Light Dragon Dagger against the wound.

"There's still time to surrender."

His voice was cold, though his breathing was far from steady.

Even at this point, his victory had not come easily.

Tang Wulin clenched his teeth so tightly that the pain in his shoulder briefly blackened his vision. But the cut was not the only thing tormenting him. The sharp Soul Power within the Light Dragon Dagger kept drilling inward like needles, making his entire right arm go numb.

"Will you surrender or not?" Xie Xie asked again.

Tang Wulin did not answer immediately.

He simply kept his head lowered, his shoulders and back taut.

I won't surrender.

He did not even need to think those words.

But just as that thought settled, another strange sensation suddenly erupted deep within the wound.

First came burning.

Then a deeper heat surged from his shoulder into his body, pouring straight down his spine. It was no ordinary heat. It felt more like something that had lain dormant somewhere inside him had been forcibly awakened by that stab.

Tang Wulin shuddered violently.

Xie Xie immediately sensed something was wrong and instinctively tried to withdraw the Light Dragon Dagger.

But the moment he tried, his expression changed.

He could not pull it out.

It was not that he lacked the strength. Rather, something seemed to have "bitten" down on the dagger. Although it had barely penetrated, it was trapped in the flesh and refused to come free.

"What's going on—"

Before he could finish, Tang Wulin abruptly raised his head.

Something seemed to have scorched those once-clear black-and-white eyes, their edges faintly tinged with the palest gold. In the next instant, a hair-thin golden line lit up along the edge of his shoulder wound, as though something were pushing outward beneath his skin.

Xie Xie felt the Light Dragon Dagger jerk violently in his hand.

Then the dagger, always so sharp and steady, gave an exceedingly faint, trembling hum.

It was not a dragon's cry.

It sounded more like... fear.

Before Xie Xie could react, the wound had stopped bleeding. Flecks of golden light shone through the skin and slowly spread outward. Under the pressure of that increasingly brilliant glow, the Light Dragon Dagger was forced out of the flesh bit by bit.

A deeply suppressed growl rose from Tang Wulin's throat.

He did not know what was happening either.

He only knew the heat.

It burned everywhere inside him, in his bones and in his blood. That heat rushed along his spine into his right arm. Suddenly, the entire limb felt as though it no longer belonged to him—terribly heavy and terrifyingly strong.

"Aah—"

Tang Wulin could no longer hold it back. A low roar shook its way out of his chest.

The Light Dragon Dagger was violently jolted away.

Xie Xie sprang backward almost on instinct, but he was still half a step too late.

Tang Wulin turned, his right fist already blasting forward.

There was no hammer in this blow.

Nor was there any flourish.

It was simply a punch.

Yet the instant he threw it, a faint golden rim of light formed around his fist. The air was forcibly driven aside. The punch was both swift and heavy, so fast that Xie Xie only had time to glimpse a fist covered in fine Golden Scales.

Yes.

Golden Scales.

Xie Xie's pupils abruptly contracted.

But he no longer had time to dodge.

Bang—!

The fist did not strike him squarely in the center of his chest. Instead, it swept across his chest and the side of his shoulder. Tang Wulin had clearly pulled back a little at the last moment, but even so, the explosive force was already frightening.

Xie Xie was blasted backward, his back slamming heavily into a tree trunk before he slid down it.

His vision went black, and he lost consciousness instantly.

The clearing fell quiet again.

Tang Wulin knelt on one knee, gasping for breath, his right hand braced against the ground and his entire body trembling.

The pain remained, but stronger still was the heat continually surging from the deepest part of his body. He instinctively looked down at his right hand. One glance left him frozen.

The back of his hand, his knuckles, his wrist, and a short stretch of his forearm were all covered in fine golden scales.

The scales were small, but their edges were distinct, each one packed tightly against the next. His nails had changed too. They were noticeably longer and harder than usual, and even his fingertips had taken on a slightly tapered sharpness.

Tang Wulin's breath caught.

He slowly raised that hand, his gaze momentarily going blank.

This was not his Martial Soul.

Nor was it anything left over from forging.

It had grown out of his own body.

Near the wound on his right shoulder, the ant-like Soul Spirit bound within his Soul Ring's power had also become visibly agitated. A faint golden glow rose over its body, as though it were responding to something. But its fluctuations were weak—so weak that Tang Wulin was almost certain this change had not come from it.

It was not the Soul Spirit.

Then it could only be him.

The thought had barely crossed his mind before the Golden Scales on his right arm began rapidly receding. The scorching heat in his shoulder, which had nearly burned straight through him, also faded swiftly. In its place came the weakness of being utterly drained.

It was too fast.

Only a few short breaths passed between its appearance and disappearance.

Before Tang Wulin could even examine it closely, most of the changes to his hand were gone. Only faint golden traces remained near his shoulder wound, as though everything that had happened had been an illusion.

But he knew it was no illusion.

The blow that had sent Xie Xie flying had not been an illusion.

Neither was the wound on his shoulder.

Tang Wulin pushed against the ground and tried to stand, but his legs suddenly gave way.

He managed to turn toward Xie Xie nearby. Seeing that he had only passed out and that his chest was still rising and falling, Tang Wulin finally breathed a sigh of relief. But as that breath escaped, his own vision darkened.

He toppled forward.

Before losing consciousness, he had time for only one simple thought—

This is big trouble.

Xie Xie was jolted awake.

When his consciousness returned, his head was still muddled, and the whole world seemed to sway. His face, shoulders, and back all hurt. His face was worst of all, so numb it scarcely felt like his own.

He opened his eyes with difficulty and first saw a familiar shoulder.

Farther ahead stood the gates of Eastsea Academy.

It was already dark.

The roadside lamps were all lit, clearly illuminating the large characters at the Academy entrance.

Xie Xie froze for a moment before realizing that someone was carrying him on his back.

That someone was Tang Wulin.

"You..." The moment he spoke, his voice came out so muffled that even he could not make out the words.

Tang Wulin frowned and turned his head.

"You're awake?"

Xie Xie opened his mouth, struggling mightily before he managed to force the words out.

"My face... what happened to it?"

"It's swollen," Tang Wulin answered bluntly. "Probably a little worse than yesterday."

Xie Xie fell silent for a moment, then slowly raised a hand to touch his face.

It was swollen, hard, and hot.

His fingertips had barely touched it before the pain made him suck in a sharp breath.

Then everything that had happened in the park that day slowly came back to him.

He remembered gaining the upper hand.

He remembered pinning Tang Wulin down with that stab.

He also remembered the golden light that had suddenly shone from Tang Wulin's shoulder afterward, and that final punch.

At the thought of that punch, Xie Xie instinctively stiffened.

"You..."

He was about to ask something, but abruptly stopped.

He had suddenly remembered what he had told Tang Wulin before they set off in the park.

Don't worry. If I injure you, I'll find someone to treat you.

Yet now he was the one with a swollen face, being carried back by Tang Wulin.

The thought left Xie Xie feeling as though something were lodged tightly in his chest.

He had spent twenty-four thousand to buy himself a beating.

And now he even needed someone to carry him back to school.

Tang Wulin had not heard what he said afterward, nor did he look back. He simply kept walking steadily. His shoulder wound had stopped bleeding, but every step still sent a pulse of pain through it.

"Stop squirming," he said with a frown. "I don't have much strength left either. If you fall off, I might not feel like picking you up."

Xie Xie had been about to say something else, but those words made him swallow it back.

After a long while, he muttered a curse:

"You're... really annoying."

Tang Wulin ignored him.

Wind swept in through the school gates, the night's chill swiftly smothering the lingering heat of the day.

But the unease in Tang Wulin's heart did not fade at all.

Xie Xie had only seen his final punch.

But Tang Wulin himself knew that the real trouble was not how hard that punch had hit.

It was those Golden Scales.