Fortunately, this was the Land of Exile, where the weak were meat for the strong. Shi Chun had long grown accustomed to all manner of brutality, so he could hardly call himself angry. He simply had not expected even Zhixu City, a place that upheld heaven's laws, to fall into such disorder.
As for a one-on-one duel, he was not afraid.
What worried him was the rule for this duel: ten beats of the drum. If no winner emerged within those ten counts, both combatants would be executed. With so little time allowed, what kind of duel was this?
The problem was that he would not be the only one executed on his side. Only one side could leave alive. If he lost, Wu Jinliang would lose his life along with him.
He was not afraid of a duel, but the rules had a fatal loophole. Once his opponent realized he was outmatched and resorted to evasion, dragging things out past ten counts would be easy. He could drag them all down to death together.
As he considered his options, he took advantage of the restraints on his body having been lifted and hurriedly used his powers to check his physical condition.
Fortunately, he had not been tortured for long. His injuries looked serious, but they were only flesh wounds; his bones and tendons were unharmed. For someone like him, who had often been injured in the past, this was nothing new.
The truly agonizing part was that the bizarre visions in his right eye had flared up again during the torture, putting him through another grueling ordeal.
Ever since the night of the incident, he had wanted to try reawakening the visions in his right eye, but had never found a way. He had not expected them to activate again by accident.
While he quietly adjusted his physical condition, the purported owner who had falsely accused them was brought over as well. He still wore that filthy rag, patched who knew how many times, and his expression betrayed obvious unease.
There were reasons for that unease. Having made a false accusation, he had never felt secure to begin with, and Du Huoguan had gone back on his word, failing to deliver what he had promised. Even if he won this time, would they honor their promise? Or would they break their word again?
He was given no chance to dwell on it. He was shoved straight onto the open ground, opposite Shi Chun.
Once he confirmed that his opponent would be the false accuser, Shi Chun's anxious heart settled somewhat.
What he had feared most was that the force behind Shen Youkun had extended its reach into the City Guard. If that force were truly controlling his life and death, there would be no escaping disaster this time.
Seeing the false accuser pitted against him in a fight to the death suggested that he had been right about the change in the interrogation's direction. The force in the shadows had lost control over this matter.
But whether his judgment was right or wrong, he first had to survive the ordeal before him.
Boom!
Just as hostility began to creep into the two combatants' eyes as they sized each other up, a guard at the edge of the grounds picked up a drumstick and struck the drum on its stand.
That beat made both their hearts involuntarily jump. They had not expected the duel to begin so casually, without even giving them a chance to prepare. It had simply started without warning.
Little did they know that the spectators had no interest in watching them take their time preparing.
A vicious light appeared in their eyes almost simultaneously as they stared at each other like starving wolves. Only one side could survive. Neither had a choice.
Neither had a weapon, because someone had said they wanted to watch barehanded combat.
Boom!
Another drumbeat. Two of the ten had already passed.
Such urgency could drive a person mad. Neither combatant dared hesitate any longer, and they rushed at each other almost simultaneously. Flee or dodge? Impossible!
Just as they were about to collide, the false accuser tore the filthy rag off his body and flung it out, sending it billowing like a curtain toward the charging Shi Chun. No wonder he had kept wearing that rag as clothing. It had another use after all.
If this was a practiced move, there had to be a trick to it!
Wariness flashed through Shi Chun's eyes. He had fought and killed his way through life since childhood, surviving countless dangers. He knew all too well that whenever an opponent threw out an opening move, he had to watch for the follow-up.
But at the instant of collision, it was already too late to dodge.
"Break!" He suddenly drew in a breath and shouted, mustering his strength. Pouring every ounce of his cultivation into the blow, he thrust both palms out together.
Bang!
A dull explosive report sounded at the same instant as another drumbeat, and scattered shapes whirled through the air.
The curtain of cloth shaken out from the false accuser's hand burst apart like hundreds of fluttering butterflies. Scraps of fabric flew everywhere, with glints of cold light mixed among them.
Watching from behind the window lattice upstairs, Du Huoguan murmured in praise, "Overwhelming!"
Someone at his level of cultivation understood this clearly. Though an Initial Martial cultivator could easily shatter stone tablets and split rocks, blasting a piece of soft cloth to fragments in midair like this was extremely difficult. Punching through it or tearing it apart was simple, but pulverizing the entire piece was essentially beyond an Initial Martial cultivator's abilities.
Had they not captured Shi Chun and examined him, learning the details of his cultivation, Du Huoguan might have mistaken him for someone who had already reached the Advanced Martial realm.
Even as he voiced his praise, his brows lifted slightly. He had recognized the cold glints among the scraps of cloth. Many fine needles had been concealed inside that filthy rag, and judging by their color, they were probably poisoned as well.
It was a vicious trick.
Hidden weapons were still weapons. The instructions had been to have them fight barehanded, yet one side had brought weapons. Du Huoguan glanced out of the corner of his eye at the person beside him, but saw no change whatsoever in the Prison Master's expression.
Shi Chun was not blind either. He was both shocked and furious.
Before the rag burst apart, the false accuser who had flung it out had not let go completely. He still held one corner. Seeing that it was about to brush his opponent, a savage hint of imminent triumph had already appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He knew very well that once his opponent collided with the cloth he had thrown out, whether he grabbed it, blocked it, swatted it aside, or kicked it, any contact with his body would be enough. One forceful tug, and his opponent was certain to fall victim to the trick.
Yet just as he shifted his footing to sidestep and prepared to yank, the sight of countless "butterflies" suddenly exploding before his eyes left him stunned. The stinging pain that followed nearly frightened his soul out of his body.
Several of the poison needles blasted outward had pierced his own body.
He knew the potency of his needles all too well. They were coated with a lethal poison that sealed the throat upon drawing blood, and his entire body would soon become paralyzed.
Fortunately, he carried an antidote. Since he used such a trick, he naturally had to guard against accidents.
But Shi Chun gave him no chance to save himself. The instant the screen burst apart and his opponent came into view, the charging Shi Chun pushed off the ground, changed direction, and lunged at him.
The false accuser hastily drew his hands back to block, intending to seal off the incoming attack, only for Shi Chun to cross his hands and lock him up as though twisting strands into a braid.
Their four arms had barely tangled together when-boom!-another drumbeat sounded.
The drumbeats were like summons to death. Time waited for no one. His brows drawn fiercely and his cold eyes brimming with murderous intent, Shi Chun stamped his foot and gave a "Hah!" The thick stone paving instantly cracked into a spiderweb. His tattered clothes stirred without wind, beads of blood burst from his wounds, and one arm surged like a flood dragon rising from the sea, forcibly blasting free of the tangle. His fist shot forward like racing thunder, opened into a palm, and slammed into his opponent's chest.
The blow was ferocious. The false accuser felt burning pain wherever their arms had scraped together, then an enormous force struck him, breaking his hold and sending him staggering backward.
Forcing himself to regain his footing, the false accuser held back the blood threatening to spurt from his mouth. He felt his internal organs churning in wrenching agony, like rivers and seas overturned. His opponent's attack was powerful and strange, as though it meant to blast straight through his body.
Watching from behind the upstairs window lattice, Du Huoguan's pupils suddenly contracted. He clearly saw what looked like a trapped human face on the false accuser's back, as though it had suffered endless torment and was struggling to escape the confines of flesh, or like an evil ghost trying to burst out of a human body. Then it rapidly went still, as though it had died, leaving a skull-like bloody mark on the skin.
What the hell was that? Shock and suspicion showed on his face.
Nie's eyes narrowed slightly as well, and he softly uttered, "Demon-Bathing Art..."