Chương 59: Obstructing the Enemy

"You little mongrel! Where have you hidden that Little Witch? Speak now, and perhaps I shall grant you the mercy of a swift death!" As the distance between them closed, Xuan Liao's eyes swept over Reyn, only to find his arms empty. A sudden, icy dread lanced through his heart. In his frantic pursuit of Reyn's aura, he had neglected to verify if the boy was still carrying his prize. If Li Xiumei escaped, this entire operation was a catastrophic failure.

Even if he slaughtered Reyn a thousand times over, nothing but a gruesome execution awaited him back at the sect.

"Haha! You old dog, it seems fate isn't on your side today!" Reyn's lips curled into a mocking sneer, his voice dripping with derision.

"While you were busy chasing your own tail, Li Xiumei vanished into the horizon. Even I couldn't tell you where she is now if I wanted to!"

"You… you dare?!" Xuan Liao's vision blurred as his vision swam with crimson rage. His internal spiritual energy surged violently, nearly spiraling out of control.

"Little beast, even if I am destined for the grave, I will ensure you suffer ten thousand agonies first! I shall extract your soul and refine your essence, leaving you begging for a death that will never come!" His venomous shriek echoed through the air, sending a cold shiver down Reyn's spine. It was clear that Xuan Liao truly wished to feast on his flesh and drink his blood.

However, Reyn knew he had to keep the old man's fury at a boiling point; if the cunning fox regained his composure, he might see through the holes in Reyn's fabrication.

"Heh, you talk big for an old man who can't even catch a junior! If you want my life, prove you have the legs to take it!"

"Die, you little bastard!" Predictably, the provocation worked. Xuan Liao's aura became even more chaotic as he forced his cultivation to the limit, his flight speed surging as he burned through his reserves. Reyn's heart hammered against his ribs. The gap between them was shrinking rapidly, closing to a mere twenty zhang.

"Nowhere left to run!" Xuan Liao roared, his hand blurring as he struck a mudra. A massive hand of condensed spiritual energy materialized in the sky, swatting downward like a titan's palm. Reyn's hair stood on end. Without a moment's hesitation, he reached into his storage bag and withdrew a thick stack of talismans. Fireball Arts, Water Needle Techniques, Binding Spells—a chaotic mess of low-grade magic. He slammed his spiritual energy into the stack and hurled them backward. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Dozens of talismans ignited simultaneously, erupting in a violent cacophony of elemental fury. The sheer scale of the explosion gave even Xuan Liao pause, forcing him to decelerate his flight. His spiritual giant hand was shredded into dissipating mist the moment it touched the blast zone. Taking advantage of the momentary reprieve, Reyn's escape light flickered intensely, widening the gap back to a hundred zhang. Xuan Liao's eyes burned with murderous intent.

He reignited his flight light and resumed the hunt with renewed ferocity. The two engaged in a desperate game of cat and mouse. Every time the distance closed to within twenty zhang, Reyn would unleash another barrage of mixed talismans. Though individually weak, the sheer volume of the overlapping spells was enough to force a Foundation Establishment cultivator to defend himself, allowing Reyn to pull away once more. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

After several such cycles, Xuan Liao was reduced to a state of incoherent, roaring fury. His killing intent had practically solidified into a physical weight, yet he found himself momentarily powerless against the boy's relentless consumption of resources. Half a day passed. High above a lush, rolling mountain forest, two streaks of light tore through the heavens.

They flew mere dozens of meters above the canopy, the sheer pressure of their passing creating a rolling wake of crushed leaves and swaying timber that looked like a green sea in a storm. Reyn reached into his bag and swallowed several Peiyuan Pills, a bitter smile playing on his lips. The thousand-plus low-grade talismans he had bartered for at the Small Hillside Market were almost gone, depleted by the trials of the Hundred Thousand Desolate Mountains and this frantic chase.

All that remained were his precious high-grade reserves. Sensing Xuan Liao closing in again, Reyn's eyes darted around, and a cold, calculating glint replaced his exhaustion.

"Wait… what is this? The brat didn't throw any talismans?" As they crossed the twenty-zhang threshold, Xuan Liao instinctively braced for an explosion, but the expected barrage never came. He slowed his pace, his brow furrowing in suspicion. Throughout this chase, Reyn had burned through a staggering amount of wealth—at least a thousand talismans. Even for low-grade items, the cost in spirit stones was immense. Xuan Liao had begun to suspect that Reyn was the pampered core disciple of some hidden Great Sect.

"A brat with that many low-grade charms must have at least one high-grade trump card. Is he trying to lure me into a trap?" Xuan Liao's heart tightened. He checked his speed, hovering just outside the twenty-zhang mark, refusing to commit. The old fox is as cautious as they come, Reyn thought, sensing the hesitation. But no matter how cunning you are, you're still going to fall for this. Reyn began to glance back frequently, his expression shifting to one of poorly concealed panic.

Even the spiritual fluctuations of his flight light began to flicker and waver, as if his energy was failing. Is he truly at his wit's end? Xuan Liao wondered. He nudged his speed forward, entering the twenty-zhang zone while keeping his divine sense locked onto Reyn's every movement. Sure enough, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a hidden, desperate joy in Reyn's eyes—a look that was quickly masked, but not quickly enough for a seasoned cultivator. So, there is a trap.

But you are far too green to play this game with me, Xuan Liao sneered internally. He began weaving a silent mudra behind his back, slowly inching closer.

"Haha! Die, you old ghost!" Reyn suddenly spun around as Xuan Liao reached the ten-zhang mark. He hurled three spiritual talismans with all his might. Even before they detonated, the heavy, oppressive spiritual pressure radiating from them was unmistakable. Xuan Liao's pupils shrank. A surge of cold sweat broke out on his back. Based on the spiritual pressure alone, those three talismans were equivalent to the full-strength strike of a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Had he been caught off guard, he would have been severely maimed. Clever little bastard! Feigning weakness to lower my guard, hoping for a single decisive blow! But I have roamed this world for decades; your wisdom is nothing compared to mine! Xuan Liao's internal sneer manifested as he completed his mudra. His circular ring artifact flew out, expanding instantly to several meters in diameter, forming a shimmering, impenetrable barrier around him. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The three talismans detonated.

Instead of fire or thunder, they released a dense, shimmering mist. In the blink of an eye, the vapor condensed into thousands of three-inch-long water needles, fine as cow hair, which saturated the air in a lethal, high-velocity storm. High-grade Water Needle Technique Talismans! The needles hammered against the ring barrier with a relentless, rhythmic pitter-patter. The artifact's light flickered violently, swaying under the concentrated assault.

Xuan Liao grunted, pouring a massive surge of spiritual energy into the ring to stabilize it.

"Little mongrel, let's see what other tricks you have left!" As the water needles dissipated, Xuan Liao reclaimed his ring, his face twisted into a grotesque, triumphant grin. He looked toward Reyn, who stood frozen in mid-air, seemingly paralyzed by shock and terror. Xuan Liao began to walk forward through the air, one predatory step at a time. At that moment, Reyn seemed to snap out of his trance. His face paled with absolute horror.

With a frantic flicker of his escape light, he turned and fled as if the god of death itself were at his heels.