"Mr. Satō, don't just stand there. Call for backup now."
Qingxiao's voice was steady and calm, without the slightest hint of panic. He gave the order in a low voice as he stepped out of the car.
Sato Kenta shakily pulled out the Cursed Tool he carried for requesting backup. The signal, previously blocked by Cursed Energy, somehow managed to connect at that moment.
"The signal's through! The request went out!" Sato Kenta hurriedly replied, only for his face to fall a second later. "But headquarters says they're short-staffed. The soonest... the soonest they can get here is twenty minutes!"
"That's enough."
Qingxiao answered mildly. His feet planted on the cold tunnel floor, he stood tall and straight as a pine and settled firmly into a fighting stance.
Black mist churned as the ambushing Semi-Grade 1 Cursed Spirit finally revealed its full form at a leisurely pace.
Its entire body was pitch-black and slimy, its frame twisted and bloated, its limbs long, thin, and deformed. Just looking at it was unsettling and disgusting. Most absurd of all, its Cursed Energy kept rising inside this enclosed, dark tunnel, its presence building layer upon layer. It was nowhere near the level of an ordinary Semi-Grade 1.
The corner of Qingxiao's mouth twitched, his eyelid flickered, and he immediately understood.
So this thing hadn't suddenly gotten stronger at all. It had picked its home turf to lie in wait!
Are you kidding me?! You could call this a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit and it wouldn't be an exaggeration. I've really overplayed it this time. I don't think I can fucking beat it, Qingxiao cursed inwardly, his expression still perfectly composed.
The enclosed, gloomy tunnel, thick with stagnant deathly energy, perfectly suited the Cursed Spirit's traits, boosting its body, Cursed Energy recovery, and self-healing across the board. Its fighting strength now came infinitely close to that of a proper Grade 1 Cursed Spirit.
The next second, the Cursed Spirit let out a piercing shriek. Its arm shot out, lunging straight at Qingxiao amid a howling, icy wind!
The air tore violently, and a cold, oppressive force rushed into his face.
Qingxiao pushed off the ground and burst forward, turning sideways to evade the Cursed Spirit's lunge. At the same time, he clenched his right fist and drove it into the joint of the Cursed Spirit's deformed arm with tremendous physical force!
Bang!
A heavy, muffled impact thundered through the tunnel. The Cursed Spirit's slender arm snapped, and its massive body staggered backward, slamming into the tunnel's stone wall.
Huddled beside the car, Sato Kenta watched with his pupils contracting sharply, nothing but shock left in his heart.
In Sato Kenta's eyes, Qingxiao's evasions were clean and his punches decisive, forcing his opponent back again and again. He remained relaxed and composed throughout-a textbook display of effortless domination. This new student's strength was terrifying.
But only Guyue Qingxiao himself knew how frustrating and exhausting this fight truly was.
A heavy punch that could ordinarily cripple a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit outright had nearly failed to break even this thin arm when it landed on a Semi-Grade 1 with its terrain buffs maxed out. The thing was absurdly tanky.
Drawing on the tunnel's endless supply of Cursed Energy, its arm regrew at a rate visible to the naked eye. In another minute, it would probably be back to normal.
Qingxiao dared not let his guard down at all. Seizing the chance while the Cursed Spirit was missing an arm, he swiftly closed in and threw another punch, only for it to dodge. That exchange had given him a fairly clear grasp of its strength.
After several exchanges, Qingxiao's breathing quietly grew heavier. His arm muscles kept aching and trembling, and his stamina and mental energy were draining rapidly.
He did hold a firm advantage, suppressing it throughout and denying it any chance to counterattack at close range. But every punch, every dodge, and every instance of resisting the corrosion of Cursed Energy pushed his limits relentlessly.
Out in the open, without the terrain advantage, he would have exorcised this Semi-Grade 1 long ago. There would have been no need for such an exhausting back-and-forth.
But this Cursed Spirit, fighting on its home turf with strength approaching Grade 1, had an enormous margin for error and almost unlimited staying power.
Twenty minutes... I really don't think I can last that long.
Qingxiao rapidly weighed things up, his brow furrowing slightly.
His physical resilience and explosive power were maxed out, but his weakness was just as obvious-he was ill-suited to this kind of drawn-out fight against an opponent with unlimited staying power.
High-intensity combat combined with the constant corrosion of Cursed Energy was draining his stamina at an absurd rate. A distinct aching fatigue had already spread through the muscles all over his body.
Another head-on clash left Qingxiao with several more wounds. He knew he was close to losing control of the situation.
He used the force to retreat and landed steadily, his figure still upright, without the slightest sign of disarray.
If this dragged on, his stamina would bottom out before reinforcements arrived, and he would definitely be forced onto the defensive.
I have to find a chance to finish this quickly. Qingxiao's thoughts raced, but his hands did not slow in the slightest as he assumed an attacking stance again.
Thoroughly enraged by being suppressed repeatedly, the Cursed Spirit's bloated body shook violently. The pitch-black Cursed Energy surrounding it surged severalfold, and its fully regenerated limbs grew thicker and sharper. Its sinister shrieks echoed through the tunnel, making eardrums ache. It finally abandoned its sneaky war of attrition and prepared to use its full strength to finish off the human who had suppressed it over and over in a single assault.
Wind howled, Cursed Energy seethed, and suffocating Cursed Energy filled the entire tunnel.
With his stamina overdrawn, both his reaction speed and movement speed had dropped. His opponent's attack was fast and covered a wide area; ordinary evasion simply would not work. If he forced a retreat, the bladed wind would catch his chest and abdomen, leaving him unable to fight on the spot. If he raised his arms to block, its current strength would slice them straight off, resulting in an even worse outcome.
In an instant, countless pros and cons flashed through Qingxiao's mind, until only one solution remained.
Trade his own injury for his opponent's death.
Before you continue