Wang Ziling

"It's you?" Wang Yan cried out in surprise as well. He clearly recognized the person before him, and his expression turned ugly.

"Well, well! Wang Yan! You managed to climb this peak too? Too bad you're late!" The disciple who had ambushed Wang Yan spoke casually, looking perfectly at ease, as though Wang Yan were beneath his notice. After a pause, he continued, "Looks like you got the information from that old bastard too, eh? I've already taken all the medicinal herbs here! You must have used up quite a bit of your spiritual power, haven't you?" A vicious gleam suddenly appeared in his eyes, and the iron claw on his hand gave off even more intense threads of scorching red light. "Hand over your magic artifact and medicinal herbs if you know what's good for you, and I'll spare your life. Otherwise... heh heh!" With that, he lowered himself into a fighting stance...

"Hmph! What if I refuse? Wang Ziling! Would you actually kill me?" By now, Wang Yan had climbed to his feet, blue light flickering over the short sword in his hand. Naturally, he had no intention of simply handing over the fruits of years of hard work. His words were icy, but inwardly, his heart beat like a drum.

Indeed, the short sword in Wang Yan's hand was a low-grade magic artifact. For this trial, he had spent nearly all the savings he had accumulated over the years to buy it, along with some Spirit Talismans. He had long since used up those Spirit Talismans escaping danger and killing demonic beasts. All he had left were the medicinal herbs for the trial tucked inside his robe.

Those medicinal herbs were the key to whether he could become an inner-clan disciple of the Wang Household. There were only a little over three days left in the trial, and such herbs were hardly easy to find. With other disciples fighting over them as well, things were naturally even more troublesome.

Yet the person before him was a rising favorite among the disciples recruited from outside. A Wang Household disciple had brought him back only last year. He had been an ordinary mortal then, but after just over a year of cultivation, he had already entered the cultivation realm.

More importantly, he was deeply calculating. Any ordinary eleven- or twelve-year-old disciple who was still a mortal would have suffered terribly at the hands of the other disciples...

But within little more than ten days of arriving, Wang Ziling had already fallen in with a group of outside disciples. In less than half a year, he had become their scheming adviser, specializing in rotten tricks. Wang Yan had been caught in his traps several times, making him one of the disciples Wang Yan hated most.

Logically, someone who entered the cultivation realm in a year ought to have excellent aptitude. Unfortunately, the Wang Household's rules were what they were: outside cultivators who had not reached the cultivation realm by thirteen were sent away to become outer disciples. Coupled with the hostility of the household's own disciples, there was little they could do...

Just as Wang Ziling had said, Wang Yan had indeed spent a spirit stone to learn about the medicinal herbs on this mountain from a core condensation realm cultivator of the Wang Household. Now it seemed Wang Ziling had asked about it too. Rather than staying with those outer disciples, he had actually lain in ambush here, apparently targeting disciples who came looking for medicinal herbs. Clearly, he had planned this well in advance.

Climbing from the foot of the mountain had already drained most of Wang Yan's spiritual power. If he had not reacted quickly upon reaching the top, Wang Ziling would probably have killed him.

His situation was still much the same. Though he had dodged that first attack, he had used up so much spiritual power that he naturally could not afford another fight with Wang Ziling.

To put it bluntly, he was a paper tiger now. Wang Ziling had rested up here while waiting for his exhausted prey; dealing with him would be a piece of cake. A cultivator without spiritual power was really no different from a lamb awaiting slaughter.

"So you won't hand them over!" Wang Ziling's expression chilled as he spoke. Suddenly, red light flashed over the iron claw in his hand and beneath his feet. Boom! Red light burst outward, and his foot stamped a deep print into the ground as he charged at Wang Yan. He crossed the several meters between them in an instant. Scorching heat shimmered around his iron claw as he brought it down toward Wang Yan's head. If it landed squarely, it would probably tear his entire head into pieces.

"Hah!" Although Wang Yan had cultivated longer and possessed a much stronger cultivation base than Wang Ziling, the climb from the foot of the mountain had nearly exhausted his spiritual power. How much could he have left? But surrendering and letting himself be captured was absolutely out of the question. With an angry shout, he shifted his feet and twisted his body, actually using his shoulder to meet the incoming iron claw while thrusting his short sword straight at Wang Ziling's throat.

At that instant, the blue light on Wang Yan's short sword abruptly faded and vanished. Clearly, his last reserves of spiritual power had run dry, but he still drove his sword toward Wang Ziling's throat!

He was clearly staking his life against Wang Ziling's. A claw strike to Wang Yan's shoulder might cripple his arm, but a slash to Wang Ziling's neck with that sharp low-grade magic artifact would send his entire head packing. Wang Yan was bullied not because his divine abilities were inadequate, but because he was always attacked by several people at once. In a true one-on-one fight, how many of the participants in this trial could match him?

This bastard! Wang Ziling was hardly foolish enough to stake his life against Wang Yan's like this. Cursing inwardly, he sent red light flashing beneath his feet and stamped hard against the ground. With a muffled bang, he shot backward.

But.

He still seemed to be a fraction too slow. Wang Ziling felt a pain in his neck; the short sword had clearly wounded him. In an instant, he retreated seven or eight feet, opening up the distance between himself and Wang Yan...

Wang Yan fared little better. Wang Ziling's claw had caught his shoulder, leaving a charred wound. Unable to keep his balance, he staggered several meters forward, inwardly lamenting the missed chance. If he had still possessed spiritual power, he would at least have cut a much deeper wound in Wang Ziling's neck.

However!

"Hah!" Wang Yan was not someone who admitted defeat easily. Gritting his teeth, he roared and lunged forward again, charging at Wang Ziling. The short sword in his hand shifted through a rapid succession of moves, forming a flurry of cold flashes as he attacked.

Though they were immortal cultivators, they were only of the lowest rank. Besides practicing their cultivation arts, most also trained in worldly martial techniques to defend themselves and strengthen their bodies. Wang Yan worked extremely hard at his martial training, so his mortal fighting skills were naturally quite good.

"Tch!" Wang Ziling clicked his tongue at the sight. Though he had rested while waiting and still had plenty of spiritual power, Wang Yan's reckless, life-on-the-line fighting style gave him a serious headache. He was not nearly as easy to deal with as those fools. One slip, and even if Wang Ziling killed him, he would be injured himself-or even lose his life. He had only just gained this hard-won opportunity to cultivate toward immortality. How could he risk everything fighting Wang Yan?

With that thought in mind.

Smack! Smack! Red light flashed beneath Wang Ziling's feet as he stamped out seven or eight footprints in succession. Each step carried him seven or eight feet backward, and in moments he had retreated several dozen feet, widening the distance between himself and Wang Yan. "Fine, you win! Stop!" he shouted sternly. "I won't take your things. Isn't that enough?"

Wang Yan stopped in his tracks at those words. Wang Ziling still had ample spiritual power, while he had none, so there was no way he could catch him. He held his short sword in front of himself in case this was a trick. In truth, he was at the end of his strength too, but he forced himself to remain composed. Sharp pain stabbed through his shoulder; the wound was clearly serious. Yet he stared viciously at Wang Ziling like a starving wolf, sending a shiver through Wang Ziling's heart. Even so, Wang Ziling stared fiercely back without showing fear.

The two glared fiercely at each other for a while,

Suddenly.

"Whew!" Wang Ziling abruptly withdrew the red light from his iron claw and exhaled, looking as though he had conceded defeat. "Ah, Senior Brother Wang Yan!" he hurriedly said. "There isn't much time left in this trial. Let's say I've lost. We've gotten acquainted through a fight, so why not become friends?" With that, he gave a thoroughly friendly little smile and spoke amiably. He had stopped first and actually taken the initiative to admit defeat.

It had to be said that Wang Ziling really did have a handsome face. With that friendly expression, he looked quite sincere...

Seeing this,

"Hmph! You think I'll just wipe the slate clean?" Wang Yan naturally would not let it go so easily. Though he was often bullied, he was no spineless weakling for others to slaughter at will. He spoke with a cold snort, but he did stop fighting. He had no spiritual power left whatsoever. Unless Wang Ziling came to attack him, he would never catch him by charging over himself, so he had no choice but to stop...

"Come now, Senior Brother! We're all disciples of the same clan. Why should we fight and kill one another? This is only a trial!" Wang Ziling seemed unbothered. As he spoke, he reached into his robe...

"You still want another round?" Wang Yan narrowed his eyes at the sight and spoke coldly, backing away several steps. If Wang Ziling attacked with a spell from a Spirit Talisman or something similar at this distance, Wang Yan might not be able to dodge in his current condition. Naturally, he dared not be careless.

"Ah! Look how nervous I've made you, Senior Brother. It's all my fault!" Wang Ziling apologized repeatedly. As he spoke, his hand had already slipped deep into his robe. He suddenly pulled it out, revealing a red medicinal pill in his hand. "I was wrong to ambush you, Senior Brother. Please take this as an apology from your junior brother!"