Volume Two: Travels in the State of Qi, Chapter 147: The Fusion of Three Martial Techniques

Even Qi Xuan could not land a hit on Zhang Heng. The spectators watching from below grew restless.

"Zhang Heng, you brat, stop running! If you have any guts, face Prince Qi Xuan head-on."
"You coward, you don't even dare to trade blows."
"You are nothing but a spineless wretch who only knows how to flee."

Zhang Heng could not be bothered by their nonsense. It was easy for them to talk, but they were not the ones facing Qi Xuan’s formidable attack power. If he didn't run and ended up taking a hit, it would be his pain, not theirs.

After a while, realizing he could not touch Zhang Heng no matter what, Qi Xuan stood in the center of the arena and ceased his pursuit. In truth, he had expected this outcome. Zhang Heng’s speed was genuinely extraordinary, surpassing everyone—including himself and Mu Wanqing. He didn't mind Zhang Heng constantly dodging; in his eyes, Zhang Heng was showing mercy by evading rather than launching a counterattack.

Suddenly, a surge of vigorous spiritual energy erupted from Qi Xuan, diffusing to his left and right, where it unexpectedly condensed into physical forms.

"Clones?" Zhang Heng was taken aback. Everyone else he had encountered, including Mu Wanqing, had only used weapon-based illusions. He hadn't expected Qi Xuan to be able to clone himself; it was quite impressive.

In an instant, Qi Xuan had created ten illusory bodies. Eleven Qi Xuans stood in a row, staring sharply at Zhang Heng.

Up on the second-floor viewing gallery, the Emperor of Qi smiled smugly. "Ten clones—not bad at all." Wu Hong chose not to dampen his spirits; the Emperor was currently injured, and if he were to be discouraged to the point of collapse, it would be far too awkward.

Most of the spectators were astonished. "As expected of the Prince of Qi, he’s actually mastered the Ten-Fold Shadow Clone technique! That brat Zhang Heng is finished."

The ten figures charged at Zhang Heng in unison. Clearly, no matter how fast he was, it seemed impossible to dodge them all. The ten Qi Xuans moved with identical gestures and expressions, all with the same speed. As ten fists rained down toward him, Zhang Heng, though surprised, remained calm. He possessed an omniscient system, so he was least afraid of illusions.

Silently, he accelerated his "Aurora Phantom" movement technique to its limit. Moving with impossible speed, he wove through the Qi Xuans and appeared on the opposite side of the arena. The crowd could only gasp; the boy was truly too fast.

After dodging, Zhang Heng did not stop. His left hand gathered the Spirit-Gathering Finger, his right the Dual-Yang Finger. It was another weapon fusion, and this time, the speed seemed even greater. With a single strike, the "Qi Xuan" in the very center collapsed, only to dissipate instantly. It was an illusion, not a physical body.

The crowd laughed aloud. "Your stance is flashy enough, but do you even know which one is the Prince's true body?"

Zhang Heng smiled calmly. He naturally knew they were illusions. His current attacks couldn't harm Qi Xuan’s real body, so he might as well clear out the clones and deplete Qi Xuan’s spiritual energy in the process.

Qi Xuan reacted quickly, recovering in a heartbeat to launch another assault. He was fast, but Zhang Heng was faster. By the time Qi Xuan reached his side of the arena, Zhang Heng was already on the other. Zhang Heng couldn't help but laugh; choosing the Aurora Phantom movement technique had been a stroke of genius. Speed truly determined everything—as long as one could run fast enough, there was nothing anyone could do.

The two traded blows and maneuvers, exchanging hundreds of strikes in an instant. Zhang Heng felt a secret tremor of shock. Qi Xuan was indeed the widely acknowledged genius he was said to be. Anyone else would have exhausted their spiritual energy by now, but Qi Xuan showed no signs of fatigue. Zhang Heng calculated that if this continued, he would simply need to run for five days and nights to drain Qi Xuan dry, securing his victory.

Qi Xuan, despite his fierce techniques, immense power, and high speed, realized he couldn't land a blow. Before long, he voluntarily withdrew all his clones and stood quietly at the edge of the stage.

Zhang Heng paused. Had the kid given up?

Qi Xuan spoke, "Brother Zhang, you don't need to hold back for my sake. I know I cannot win against you no matter what. I will now use my ultimate technique. I hope to witness your greatest power. If you happen to kill me by accident, I shall hold no grudges."

Though the crowd found his words baffling, their excitement was piqued; they knew a grand technique was coming. As he spoke, a massive amount of spiritual energy surged within Qi Xuan, and within moments, golden light engulfed the entire arena.

The Emperor of Qi, watching from above, felt a flicker of alarm. He hadn't expected Qi Xuan to use such a move; if Zhang Heng were injured, it would be a disaster. He rose to interrupt the match, but Wu Hong restrained him. "Your Majesty, do not worry. Let the juniors fight; we elders should simply watch."

Zhang Heng felt the suffocating pressure, as if everything around him were being controlled by Qi Xuan. He couldn't escape; to leave the arena meant defeat. Yet, the entire space was blanketed in golden energy.

"If I cannot run, then so be it."

Qi Xuan continued to push his power, the energy radiating outward. Zhang Heng stood his ground. The spectators began to jeer.

"Zhang Heng, you brat, you’re so good at running—why don't you run now?"
"Trying to show off in front of the Prince with those pathetic tricks? It’s laughable."
"See? Now you've forced the Prince to use his ultimate move. You might not make it out alive."

Mu Wanqing’s beautiful eyes remained fixed on Zhang Heng. She wasn't worried; she knew their duel was tomorrow, and she wanted to see his world-shattering sword technique once more.

Just then, two different colors of spiritual energy manifested in Zhang Heng's hands: cyan-blue in his left, golden-yellow in his right.

"What? Weapon fusion?"
"He’s lost his mind!" the crowd sneered. They were certain this was his strongest move, and while it worked on others, it would be useless against Qi Xuan.

Even Wu Hong was confused. Why hadn't he used the Lone Sword Saint’s Heart-Protecting Sword? Mu Wanqing’s face was also etched with doubt.

Slowly, the two techniques began to merge. A golden-yellow light tinged with blue-green hovered before Zhang Heng. Qi Xuan, seeing this, grew anxious. Zhang Heng’s fusion couldn't block his ultimate move, but his own technique was already fully charged and could not be retracted.

Just as the crowd thought Zhang Heng had reached his limit, an unbelievable phenomenon occurred. His feet began to move in a rapid, complex pattern, and soon, a massive, shadowy footprint manifested in the air.

Zhang Heng shouted, "Heaven-Shattering Kick!"

He gritted his teeth, staring ahead. "If two techniques aren't enough, then I'll try three!"

"What? Three-technique fusion? He’s insane!"

Wu Hong was stunned. The Emperor of Qi was stunned. The sect leaders were stunned. Everyone present was in shock. Fusing two techniques was already heaven-defying; that this boy would attempt to fuse three was impossible—absolutely impossible.

He was courting death.