Chapter 160: Battle Against Shi Nian
"So you knew I was coming to kill you, and you're not afraid?" Shi Nian finally asked, unable to suppress his confusion.
"Afraid? Of you—a mere Spirit Saint?" Luo Ling's tone dripped with disdain, as though the man before him wasn't a high-ranked expert but an ordinary mortal.
The remark made Shi Nian laugh coldly. "Boy, I'll admit your strength is impressive, but you're only a Soul King. You have no concept of how vast the gap truly is!"
"Even between a level-69 Soul Emperor and a level-71 Spirit Saint, there's a chasm that can never be crossed!" As he spoke, seven spirit rings rose slowly beneath his feet, casting a colorful glow.
Luo Ling didn't argue. What Shi Nian said was true—breaking through to Spirit Saint and obtaining the seventh spirit skill, the Martial Spirit Avatar, represented a qualitative leap in power. Ordinary spirit masters couldn't hope to bridge that gap.
But Luo Ling wasn't an ordinary spirit master. Compared to the so-called "monsters" of Shrek, he was the real one.
"Then show me this great power you boast about," Luo Ling said with a quiet chuckle, crimson light flashing briefly in his eyes.
"You'll pay for your arrogance! I'll make sure you die screaming in despair!" Shi Nian's voice took on a chilling edge. His body began to dissolve into mist, fading until nothing remained.
"Welcome to your nightmare," his voice echoed ominously around Luo Ling. "This is my Broken Dream Illusion. Even spirit masters of equal power can't escape from it. Here, I am the master, and you will die within my dream!"
The surroundings shifted. Luo Ling now stood in what appeared to be the familiar streets of Heaven Dou City.
He couldn't deny it—the illusion's realism was impressive. An ordinary soul master might indeed lose themselves in such a dream.
Luo Ling glanced around curiously. A moment later, the scenery changed again, transforming into the back mountain of Nuoding Academy.
There stood an instructor named Zhang Lang, lunging toward him with a blade in hand. Beside Luo Ling, not his Crow Shadow Puppet, but a simple straw mannequin stood—a fragile, clumsy effigy of straw.
The straw-man lurched forward weakly. Its brittle strands were cut apart effortlessly by Zhang Lang's strike. The instructor sneered coldly and advanced with killing intent.
From within the illusion, the hidden Shi Nian frowned as he observed the scene. What was that straw figure? His Broken Dream spirit could draw out past memories to construct illusions based on a person's deepest mind, yet that strange effigy puzzled him.
Luo Ling's martial spirit was known to be a scythe—so what was that thing?
Luo Ling, standing calmly at the center of it all, felt nothing but serenity. He made no move, only quietly observed the subtle changes in his own sensations.
His senses were muted by the illusion, but the mechanics were almost identical to what he'd already seen from Canghui's students.
Shi Nian's illusion used an amplified mental wave to distort the target's spiritual perception—affecting the "soul threads" indirectly, not directly.
The difference was that Shi Nian's frequency reached deeper and lasted longer.
Understanding this, Luo Ling's eyes showed only disappointment.
Meanwhile, inside the dream, Zhang Lang swung his blade down toward him.
Shi Nian's lips curled into a cruel smile. Within his illusions, these phantoms were more than mere imagery—they were formed from condensed spiritual energy capable of inflicting real mental damage.
If Luo Ling were struck, the blow could shatter his mind—perhaps even reduce him to a drooling fool.
But at that very moment, the straw man beside Luo Ling stirred.
A wisp of black mist seeped from between its straw joints. Its eyes flashed a deep, crimson light.
Then, with a violent burst, the scarecrow exploded, scattering straw in every direction—and the next instant, it reappeared behind Zhang Lang.
A black claw pierced straight through Zhang Lang's chest. Darkness engulfed his body, devouring him completely.
The blade halted mere inches from Luo Ling's forehead, frozen midair.
Shi Nian's eyes widened in pure shock. That straw figure—what was it? The malevolent aura it released chilled him to the bone.
Before he could react, Luo Ling and the scarecrow turned their heads in perfect unison to face the faint void ahead—the true location of Shi Nian's body.
In Shi Nian's terrified gaze, soul rings rose one by one beneath Luo Ling's feet—yellow, purple, black, black, black!
But then came another set—five more, also yellow, purple, black, black, black.
As the ten rings flared, the black scarecrow slowly merged into Luo Ling's body, enshrouding him in pure darkness. Only his blood-red eyes glowed through the veil.
The ten rings fused two-by-two, condensing into five—purple, purple, black, black, black.
Luo Ling's aura surged dramatically. Within the void-like illusion, he could suddenly see streams of mist drifting all around him.
That mist was Shi Nian's martial spirit—Broken Dream.
Luo Ling raised a hand, and from his palm shot threads of luminescent crimson—the "soul threads."
The moment they touched the dream mist, the world cracked apart like shattered glass. The illusion imploded, revealing the true setting: a barren plain outside Heaven Dou City, with the city walls visible in the distance.
"Impossible…" Shi Nian whispered, disbelief etched across his face.
The monstrous scarecrow, the ten fusing rings—every sight defied his understanding.
"Your martial spirit… it's not a scythe!" Shi Nian finally gasped.
Luo Ling smiled faintly and let his third black spirit ring light up. A black scythe materialized in his grasp—it was the very weapon everyone believed to be his martial spirit.
"Is this the scythe you meant?" he asked lightly, twirling it once as ripples of dark energy spread outward.
Shi Nian's face drained of color. Somberly studying Luo Ling's aura, a sudden recognition flashed in his mind.
"You're… the Demonic Warlock!" he shouted, voice cracking.
The horror in his tone was unmistakable. The "Demonic Warlock" had once destroyed a Spirit Saint at Soto City's Great Spirit Arena—defying logic itself.
Realization dawned, and fear took hold. Shi Nian began to retreat.
But Luo Ling merely watched with cold amusement. With a flick of thought, he released his soul threads.
Shi Nian's pupils shrank. As a fellow spirit-type master, he instantly sensed something unnatural encroaching upon his mind.
In that instant, his world dimmed to gray. Before him spread an endless web of fine crimson lines—threads stretching infinitely across reality.
"These are… the threads of the soul…" Shi Nian murmured, horror dawning upon him.
(END CHAPTER)
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