Chapter Sixty-Seven: A Narrow Escape

This was a gamble—a colossal, earth-shattering wager, one that held life and death in its balance!

Mo Hu appeared hesitant. At first, he had been completely confident in this contest; he had not even considered it a gamble. But now, the more he witnessed, the more fear gripped his heart, his certainty shrinking with each passing moment. By now, he scarcely dared to act at all.

Yet the game had already begun—the stakes pushed entirely onto the table. All that remained was to reveal the final card.

Even if he wanted to back out now, it was impossible.

To abstain was to lose; to act was not necessarily defeat.

Mo Hu slowly closed his eyes, calming his mind. After a while, he snapped them open, all hesitation, confusion, and terror banished, replaced by unyielding resolve.

Thunder rumbled.

His hand tightened and loosened, and the once unremarkable wooden sword suddenly radiated with a verdant light. Around Mo Hu, a sound like surging tides rose—this was the mingling of blood and inner strength coursing through his veins.

To win this gamble, Mo Hu had abandoned everything, pouring his all into this final act. His inner strength surged past its limits; even the last dregs, preserved through years of cultivation, were forced out. The spiritual energy flowing in his blood, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, all converged into his ocean of inner power and, guided by his will, rushed forth and entered the wooden sword.

Despite receiving such a torrent of energy, the sword did nothing but shine with a greenish glow. Had it been any other weapon, not to mention this much power—even a tenth would have made it explode!

Staring at the sword, the green light reflected in his pupils, Mo Hu saw the weapon’s sole reaction to his outpouring of strength.

His pallid face broke into a faint smile. The sword in his hand grew heavier, more substantial. Like a spring breeze, it scattered the confusion and uncertainty clouding his heart.

“What an intoxicating power,” he murmured, feeling the vastness of the force within the sword, as immense as mountains and rivers. Mo Hu finally felt a measure of peace, this thought rising unbidden in his mind.

“I truly underestimated you,” Mo Hu mused, glancing at the black-and-red flames swirling around Zhou Yi, weighing their strength, then looking down at the sword in his hand, its green light surging. He managed a bitter smile. “I never used you before, so I didn’t know—you’re far stronger than those ordinary immortal relics.”

A surge of boundless confidence welled up from within—this was the effect of discovering the sword’s true might.

Using the flames fanned by the Fire Fan as a baseline—a power of one—the black wind’s force was about the same, also one.

But when the black wind merged with the flames, their power soared. By Mo Hu’s estimate, their combined might reached five.

In other words, together, they were five times as strong as either alone.

What filled Mo Hu with confidence was this: if black wind and fire together were five, then the sword in his hand was double that—ten.

Ten!

That was the concept: the power of his immortal relic sword was ten times that of a normal relic.

But that was not the most pressing matter now.

Zhou Yi.

If Zhou Yi could remain calm within the combined force of five, then even with Mo Hu’s sword at a power of ten, he could not be sure of victory—no matter that his strength had doubled.

Zhou Yi’s performance was simply too unnerving, defying expectations again and again.

At first, when they met Zhou Yi, his cultivation was at the Innate stage. Assuming he was a prodigy, they estimated upward, but at most, he could only be at the Celestial stage.

But in reality, his realm was Innate, though his true strength was impossible to measure.

They thought a single immortal relic would suffice to deal with him—no matter how strong he was.

Yet nothing happened to Zhou Yi. Once more, he far surpassed their expectations. One relic failed, so they used another, and the two complemented each other, raising their strength fivefold. Still, it wasn’t enough!

After all this, Mo Hu found himself afraid—afraid that even with a sword of strength ten, he would not be able to subdue Zhou Yi.

But, fortunately, he was not alone with just one immortal relic. The sword in his hand wielded the power of ten; Zhou Yi was enduring the power of five.

Immortal relics’ powers could be stacked. Though the wooden sword did not synergize with the others—so it could not multiply their power fivefold again—once strength reached a certain level, further increases became difficult.

It was like this: one multiplied by five is five. But ten multiplied by five is fifty. The gap between fifty and five was unfathomable.

Now, with the flames at five and the sword at ten, doubling their power again was nearly impossible.

But Mo Hu did not expect the sword to double its might. Even if the powers merely added together, that would suffice.

With the combined force of ten plus five—fifteen—if even that could not finish things, then Mo Hu would accept death without complaint.

He exhaled.

Mo Hu steadied his mind. Though it seemed a long process, all of this transpired in an instant—the speed of thought surpassed even light. Though his mind raced through countless calculations, not even a single breath had passed.

Once he resolved himself, all his strength flowed into the sword. Mo Hu ran his fingers along the blade, its iron heft providing him with renewed assurance. Then, gripping the sword, he pointed it at Zhou Yi, ready at last, his hesitation gone, to strike.

But suddenly, his thumb pressing on the sword, Mo Hu’s gaze fell on Zhou Yi. His eyes narrowed, and a flash of shock passed through them, as if something truly astonishing had occurred. He even forgot to unleash the sword in his hand.

Huang Yue had been watching Mo Hu all the while, seeing the changes flit across his features, then witnessing the sword in his hand radiate a power that stunned her. She was awed, yet relieved as well—such formidable force would surely be enough.

She watched anxiously as Mo Hu prepared to strike, following his gaze to Zhou Yi, waiting for that dazzling blow. She waited a long time, but the expected attack never came. Turning, she saw Mo Hu’s stunned expression, and her heart clenched. Had something gone wrong? No—surely not at a time like this!

“What is it?” Huang Yue asked, nervous and apprehensive.