Chapter 149: Roots of Resistance
The crowd was a tense, pulsing mass of fear and determination, everyone holding their breath as we faced down Wei Long. His mocking smile was infuriating, that smug tilt of his head as he scanned the crowd, sneering.
Each second felt like an eternity. Had my messages been in vain? Was I foolish to pin my hopes on a distant possibility?
"What’s the matter?" he drawled, eyes sweeping over us with mocking disdain. "Where’s all that fighting spirit now? You’ve come this far. Why don’t you take the last step?"
His fingers flexed, and he began to shift forward, his intentions clear in every movement.
A sudden gust shot past me as Tianyi launched forward, her foot swinging up with a speed that sliced the air. The impact sent a burst of wind spiraling out, making my hair whip wildly. But Wei Long caught her kick, his hand clamping down like a vice.
"Wrong move."
Without a second thought, I leapt into action, sprinting toward him and swinging my fist. He saw me coming, his lips curling into a smirk as he twisted to block, but then there was a flash of white and blue. Windy sprang from behind, his sleek body twisting through the air, wrapping around Wei Long’s eyes like a makeshift blindfold and coiling around his thick neck.
Wei Long’s smirk vanished, replaced by a flash of irritation. He threw Tianyi at me and I caught her mid-air, setting her carefully down. I turned back to see Wei Long’s hands clawing at Windy, trying to pull the snake off his face.
“Stay back!” I shouted to the villagers as they began to surge forward, Lan-Yin and Wang Jun looking ready to join the fight. “It’s too dangerous. Just hold on a little longer.”
I turned my gaze back to Wei Long, my heart hammering. I’d seen the strength of second-class disciples like Lan Sheng and Feng Wu; I knew what it took to even go toe-to-toe with them. But Wei Long was on another level, a first-class disciple. A sect's most elite force.
This was going to be brutal.
Windy hissed in pain, as the man gripped his body with a force that crushed his scales.
I didn’t wait, pressing the advantage. I darted forward with another punch, aiming for his ribs. Infusing my fist with every ounce of qi I could muster, I drove it into his side.
My fist connected, the force rippling outward... only to meet an unyielding wall. It was like striking a boulder. There was no give, no recoil—nothing.
With Windy still latched around his head, Wei Long’s hand shot out and clamped down on my shoulder like an iron vice. His grip tightened, fingers digging painfully into my skin as he reared back, making visible eye contact with me through the gap in between Windy's coils. I barely had time to brace myself as his forehead came crashing down in a devastating headbutt.
ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!
My stance was imperfect, diminishing the effectiveness of my technique. The impact rattled my skull, sending stars across my vision. My balance wavered, and I stumbled back, disoriented, but I forced myself to stay upright, shaking off the daze as fast as I could.
Windy fell to the side, uncoiling as the damage became too much.
Wei Long laughed, his gaze sharp and mocking. "Is that it?" he sneered, rolling his shoulders as if warming up, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of villagers with a wicked glint. “This is your grand plan? Holding on, waiting for... what? Some savior to appear out of thin air?” He tilted his head, letting out a cold chuckle. “Do you think I'll just let you?”
He shot forward, eyes glinting with a dangerous intent, his hand reaching for one of the villagers behind him. I saw Lan-Yin stiffen, her fists clenching, and the crowd took a collective step back, but he was too fast for any of them.
I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. The strategy of waiting, drawing him out—it was gone. There was only one choice left. My feet surged forward, and I funneled my qi into my legs, propelling myself with a burst of speed.
"STOP!"
Wei Long’s arm halted mid-reach, his body twisting with an unnatural fluidity. He turned to face me, and I could see the flex of his muscles as he readied a vicious hook aimed straight for my face. His knuckles came close, so close I could feel the rush of air from the punch.
I veered my head just off-center, his knuckles grazing my cheek, missing by a hair. I capitalized on that instant, swinging my own fist with every ounce of strength I had. My knuckles connected solidly with his jaw, sending a shock of satisfaction up my arm.
His head tilted from the impact, and he slowly straightened, a mocking smile on his face.
My chest tightened with frustration, but Tianyi darted in before I could think of my next move. She launched herself upward, knee cocked and ready, bringing it down with a brutal force aimed at the side of his head. It connected, sending the first-class disciple tumbling off to the side.
"Go! Go!"
I watched Elder Ming evacuate the villagers. I sighed in relief. That would give us some breathing room.
But against him, we needed every advantage we can get.
My limbs grew heavier with every exchange, breaths turning ragged. As brief as it's been, the mental toll of knowing every blow might be my last was draining.
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HISS!
Windy struck again, this time wrapping around his arm, constricting fiercely. Wang Jun came in from the side, attempting to wrestle his other arm free, his face contorted with effort.
"Let go of him! You bastard!"
In my struggle, I could see Lan-Yin leaping in, her hands reaching out to jab at his eyes, hoping to force him to release us. But Wei Long’s hold only tightened, his strength monstrous.
My lungs screamed for air as I felt the bruising pain spread across my neck. Black spots danced across my vision. Sounds muffled.
A distant roar—or was it a voice?—pierced the fog encasing my mind. Just as I thought I couldn’t hold on any longer, something struck the first-class disciple's wrist, forcing him to let me go.
A green bladed fan contrasted to the hazy, muted background.
I fell to the ground, gasping for breath, Tianyi collapsing beside me.
Through the haze of my dimming consciousness, I saw a silhouette dart in, retrieving the bladed fan, forcing Wei Long back.
Support had arrived.
"Feng Wu..!" I said hoarsely.
I tried to speak, to thank him, but the pain in my throat flared as I struggled to catch my breath.
I looked around, seeing a shape approaching in the distance, a shadowed figure atop a horse-drawn wagon. The morning light made it difficult to see, but there was something unmistakable in the posture, the silent confidence of the person guiding it closer.
The Verdant Lotus sect had sent support! They got my message!
Wei Long’s gaze shifted, his mouth curving into a cold sneer as he released Tianyi. His voice was laced with irritation. “And why exactly is the Verdant Lotus Sect interfering here?”
“Because there’s a matter of injustice to resolve," Feng Wu’s face remained impassive, his eyes steady and sharp. But for a brief second, his gaze flickered towards me, a reassuring smile on his lips.
Despite the chaos, his presence steadied me.
"One concerning a friend.”
Wei Long let out a humorless laugh, the sound grating in the tense silence of the square.
“This—” he gestured around at the village, “this is what you’re risking your necks for? A backwater village and an uppity alchemist? The Verdant Lotus is more arrogant than I thought, to assume they can waste resources here instead of fighting the Silent Moon.”
The second-class disciple's expression didn’t waver. He took another step forward, despite the hostility radiating off of Narrow Stone Peak's elite. “It's not a matter of resources. We’re resolving this today.”
Wei Long’s smirk widened. “Brave words. But do you really believe you can stand against me?”
"Maybe not. But I can."
Before Feng Wu could respond, the wagon creaked closer, coming to a stop beside us. I turned, struggling to focus through my pain, and saw the figure lift his hood.
The man stepped down from the wagon, his eagle-like eyes surveying the scene with a piercing gaze, his silver-grey hair gleaming in the early light. The figure, now clear, was unmistakable. My breath caught as I recognized him. I sent the message as a last resort, as a backup. But to think he would come himself.
“Tian Zhan...” Wei Long’s voice wavered, his eyes widening in surprise and, for the first time, genuine fear. He snapped his face towards me in genuine disbelief. But my expression mirrored his.
I never imagined he would personally answer the favor he owed me.
The air seemed to change, as the brute of a man stepped backward for the first time since battle began.
“It seems you have quite the situation here, Kai Liu," Tian Zhan said with a smile. "Perhaps a first-class disciple would prefer facing someone of equal standing.”
Wei Long’s posture tensed, his bravado faltering as he met Tian Zhan’s sharp gaze.