The moment Chen Xiang saw the Taoist aim his fly-whisk at his little sister, his eyes went red.
Ignoring his still-swollen cheek, he kicked off the ground and sprang out of the pile of clam shells, spreading his arms to shield her.
"Don't you dare!" Chen Xiang braced his neck and glared at the Taoist.
"Oh, quite protective of what's yours, aren't you?" Rather than getting angry, the Taoist laughed. He looked Chen Xiang up and down, lightly tapping his palm with his fly-whisk, his voice dripping with mockery. "But what can a little brat who can't even hold his protective immortal qi steady do to stop me?"
When had Chen Xiang ever heard words that stabbed him straight through the lungs like that?
In the Heavenly Court, every immortal he met greeted him with a beaming smile and found some new way to praise him.
"Stop spouting nonsense!" His face flushed scarlet with anger, Chen Xiang shouted, "Taste my blade!"
The words had barely left his mouth.
Chen Xiang reached into thin air, and a small, gleaming black axe carved with ancient cloud patterns appeared in his hand. Yang Jian had personally gone to Kunlun Mountain to find fine gold, then begged Laojun to fire up his furnace and forge this weapon especially for his nephew's protection.
Gripping the haft with both hands, Chen Xiang used the Seven-Star Dipper Steps and swung his axe at the Taoist.
The blow carried tremendous weight and force.
Faint sounds of wind and thunder rose from its edge. It certainly looked impressive.
Yet the Taoist did not dodge. He stayed where he was and casually raised his left hand. Without even forming a spell, he merely extended two fingers and gently pinched forward.
Clang!
A crisp ringing sounded.
The little axe, capable of