Chapter 238 – Legend of the Masked Children (VIII)

Chapter 238

Legend of the Masked Children (VIII)

Wan Lan took a deep breath, her foot rapping against the ground repeatedly as she tried to steel her nerves. She wasn’t even quite certain why she was nervous, just that she was. Perhaps it was the expectations levied against her by Senior Brother Tao, asking her to face forty cultivators, all of whom were at least at the Peak of Foundation Establishment, and at least half were in the Spirit Manifestation Realm.

She wanted to argue against that lunacy but then heard that the kids would be facing relatively similar odds–if ever so slightly easier ones–and her pride wouldn’t let her say no. But now that she was moments away from it… doubt crawled into her heart.

Was she strong enough?

What if she failed?

What if she died?

No.

She clasped her fingers into fists and took yet another deep breath, calming down. It didn’t matter if she was strong enough–she had to be, no matter what. She had a lifetime of trying to fulfill the promise made to the Madame, and she would not fail at the first leg of the journey.

The world slowed down, and the colors began to fade; as she stood up, she felt a wind of Qi sweep past her as she stepped out further. Within moments, the ground beneath her turned to stone, and the world around became a hazy fog of gray.

On the opposite end, she saw forty cloaked and hooded figures appear, with an air of confusion about them.

… how did he orchestrate all of this?

Wan Lan had known for a long while now that Senior Brother Tao wasn’t an ordinary kid–he was far more like Master Lu than any of them. Distantly aloof, vague, and seemingly capable of things that defy description.

He somehow managed to forge isolating pockets of space for all of them, where they’d fight individual battles before emerging to assist with the rest of the conflict. And he was younger than her.

She shoved him out of her head, as thinking about it was making her irrationally depressed; she was her own person, with her own potential, and comparing herself to someone as anomalous as that… it was fruitless.

Ignoring the questions tossed her way, she wrapped her fists into the swirling, twilight-colored tendrils of Qi and shot forward. As far back as she could remember, she always fought the exact same way: face forward, push onward, never stop. No matter what.

As she rushed toward them, an onslaught of arts came hurtling back toward her–but she didn’t bother dodging any of them. Bladed arts bounced off her skin, the few elemental ones left singed marks that vanished in the blink of an eye, and the ones that tried to put her in a confused state…

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She threw her fist forward and unceremoniously killed a person at the peak of Foundation Establishment with it–the man’s head exploded into a shower of blood, shattered bones, and brain matter, raining omnidirectionally.

Not stopping, she pressed onward as another one tried to shove a sword into her side–the blade stopped when it met her skin, causing her to twist to the side, grab it with her hand, and squeeze–the metal shattered into thousands of pieces, and the swordsman had just enough time for the look of horror to manifest in their gaze before she kicked out, ramming her heel into his throat and forward, snapping his neck and killing him instantly.