New Moon

A flash of hesitation crossed Hua Xi's face, but in the next instant, she coiled around Su Li's body, merging and sublimating with her.

Two small, jade-green horns slowly grew from Su Li's smooth forehead. A faint layer of green scales appeared on her skin, and her eyes shifted from their original pale red round pupils to green vertical slits.

“Young Mistress, your cultivation is inferior to mine. You should stop,” Hua Xi's calm voice echoed in Su Li's mind.

Su Li gritted her teeth. Her body was under immense strain from forcibly accommodating Hua Xi. Her meridians felt as if they were being stretched to their limits by the excessive spiritual energy, every inch of her body crying out in protest.

She looked down at the green scales emerging on the back of her hand; the skin beneath them already showed signs of cracking.

“Against that Body Integration Rank opponent, if I don't do this, I won't last more than a few breaths. I'll be chopped up like vegetables.”

As she spoke, she slowly straightened up. Veins bulged on her temples, her nine tails thrashed, and her aura surged rapidly.

Originally at the Great Perfection of the Soul Transformation Rank, Su Li's aura approached the Body Integration Rank after merging with Hua Xi, who was at the late stage of the Void Refinement Rank.

Qingwei, who was battling Zixiao, secretly clicked his tongue. Is that Old Ghost Wei's tamed beast?

If it were Old Ghost Wei in his prime, paired with this late Void Refinement Rank Azure Chi Celestial Dragon, there might be a sliver of hope to defeat Zixiao.

But this girl... He glanced at Su Li. Veins bulged on her forehead, and a thin layer of green patterns appeared around her eyes. Although her gaze remained clear, her body had already begun to tremble slightly under the strain.

His heart sank. This is going to be tough...

Every inch of Su Li's muscles threatened to tear from bearing the excessive spiritual energy, and every breath she took carried a sharp, ripping sensation.

Gritting her teeth, she ignored the spreading pain and forced back the ice spear Zixiao thrust at her with a single punch.

Then, turning swiftly, she thrust out a foot, planting it squarely on Zixiao's chest. The impact shattered the ice armor protecting his chest, sending cracks spreading outward like a spiderweb from the point of impact.

But Zixiao did not retreat. Enduring Su Li's assault, he swung Flowing Light, sending the giant frost sword crashing down toward her waist and abdomen.

Mid-air, Su Li had no way to change direction. She could only watch as the ice sword descended, its edge coated with a layer of condensing frost, leaving an afterimage in the air. Her pupils dilated. She couldn't dodge it...

“Swords into Plowshares!”

The giant frost sword seemed to be struck by something, suddenly bending out of shape and allowing Su Li to narrowly avoid it.

Ink-colored chains shot out from behind her, coiling around her waist and pulling her back to Du Qi's side.

His face was still somewhat pale, but he had already returned to his usual cynical tone. “Take it easy, Little Ancestor.”

Su Li snorted coldly. “Mind your own business!”

Du Qi sighed, patted her shoulder, and then his body suddenly slumped forward. He gritted his teeth, his tone turning strained. “Fuck, that really packs a punch.”

Su Li suddenly felt her body lighten. She immediately realized that Du Qi had taken on her burden again, and her tone turned annoyed. “I told you to mind your own business. I can take it.”

Du Qi waved his hand, signaling he was fine. “Go, quickly. That senior won't last much longer.”

Su Li bit her lip. “If you can't take it, give it back to me.” Then, she kicked off the ground, launching herself back into the battlefield like a cannonball.

“Qing... wei... you cannot stop me!” Zixiao's voice came from beneath his frost mask, carrying a drawn-out, cracking sound.

As he spoke, he swung the heavy sword—now covered in a thick layer of ice—once more. The ice sword and ice spear slammed down alternately around Qingwei, blocking all paths of escape.

Clutching the broken half of his sword, Qingwei barely managed to parry the pincer attack of the ice sword and spear.

His sword qi struck Zixiao's carapace, leaving only shallow, uneven marks. None could truly pierce the constantly regenerating layer of ice.

He gasped, his arm already trembling. A few tiny cracks appeared on the blade of his broken sword, deepening with every parry.

He glanced down. His sword was on the verge of breaking. He couldn't drag this out any longer.

“I can't drag this out with him anymore.” Through the translucent crystalline shell, he could see Bai Cen's storage bag. The spiritual energy seal on it was slowly dissolving.

If he kept dragging this out, that pill would be completely devoured.

He looked up and turned to Su Li. “Sect Master Su, see if you can trap him!”

Raising the broken half-sword with one hand, he began to gather his strength.

Hearing the command, Su Li did not hesitate. Her nine tails shot out in unison, binding Zixiao's body with a ferocious, crushing force. The nine tails tightened around him like constricting ropes.

Zixiao roared and struggled, his various weapons violently battering Su Li's body. She heard her bones crack. Swallowing the metallic taste of blood rising in her throat, she held onto him with a death grip, refusing to let go.

Several pitch-black chains materialized out of thin air, binding Zixiao's limbs. A dark red line formed on Du Qi's left arm, spreading downward and dripping onto the ground—drip, drip.

Leaning against a broken wall, he gasped, his already pale face turning even more ash-gray. Watching the bound Zixiao, he slid down the wall to a sitting position. “When I get back this time, I'll have to eat some nourishing food to replenish my blood...”

The chains thrashed wildly but refused to break—an ink lock forged from the essence blood of a near-Demi-Sage Confucian cultivator was not so easily broken.

Zixiao struggled frantically. The intense sound waves made Su Li feel as though her eardrums were about to shatter, but he still failed to break free.

No ripples remained in Qingwei's eyes. His dry lips parted slightly. “The Thirteenth Sword: New Moon.”