Chapter Sixty-Eight: Discovery! True Strength

“It seems things aren’t as dire as we imagined.” Watching Zhou Yi within the flames, Mo Hu’s lips suddenly curled upward, his mood brightening at once as he replied with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Huang Yue, hearing Mo Hu’s words, was completely puzzled. She didn’t understand what he meant, but at the same time, she quietly let out a breath of relief. Though she didn’t comprehend his meaning, from his tone and expression, it was clear this was no ill omen.

“Look!” Mo Hu, buoyed by his improved mood, didn’t rush to attack. Instead, he pointed at Zhou Yi and said to Huang Yue, “See for yourself.”

“See what?” The black dragon was exploding, flames raged fiercely, and the figure within appeared and vanished through the inferno—was there something to see here? Huang Yue scrutinized Zhou Yi closely, but aside from the fire and black wind, she detected nothing unusual.

“What do you see?” Mo Hu asked with a beaming smile, his spirits soaring from this new discovery. Even his previously pallid face seemed to regain some color in the wake of such good humor.

“….” Why keep her guessing now? Huang Yue was speechless, but seeing Mo Hu’s smiling face, and considering that the wooden sword—their only remaining trump card—was in his hands, she had no choice but to play along: “The flames. The black wind.”

“Exactly, the flames and the black wind!” Mo Hu’s smile only widened at her words.

“His strength isn’t actually as formidable as we once thought!” Mo Hu laughed as he spoke, “We believed his power was immense—and that was true!”

“But what we got wrong was that he’s nowhere near as strong as we imagined!” Mo Hu’s laughter twisted into a half-cry, half-laugh expression: “We thought he could withstand the blows of an immortal relic with ease, making his powers seem unfathomable!”

“I’m sure you’ve even wondered if he had already reached the level of the False Core.” Mo Hu shook his head at Huang Yue.

Huang Yue fell silent at that, thinking for a moment, her gaze wandering before finally settling on Zhou Yi, speechless for a long time.

She seemed to be grasping the true meaning behind Mo Hu’s words.

The flames—the heavenly fire conjured by Xue Kai’s burning fan.

The black wind—the gust released from her own gourd.

Both were powerful, but neither truly extraordinary; while they couldn’t muster such force themselves, these attacks still fell short of the False Core level.

Only when the flames and black wind merged did their power multiply—fivefold. That was the moment events took a turn that truly caught them off guard.

The black wind mingling with the heavenly fire caused their might to surge, almost brushing up against the threshold of the False Core, barely touching that invisible line.

And even then, Zhou Yi’s figure remained as still as before, unmoved by a force that had reached the boundary of False Core—the combination of the black wind and the heavenly fire could do nothing against him. So, could it be said his strength had reached the False Core?

This was the thought that had toppled their composure—the very culprit that sent their spirits crashing. The False Core!

If their adversary had truly attained the False Core, then from the very start, they would have lacked the courage to fight, even with Mo Hu wielding a relic of the immortals with power rated at ten.

If Zhou Yi’s power genuinely matched the False Core, even if they played every card at their disposal, victory would be uncertain; at best, their odds would be even.

Yet even odds were better than none.

But in truth, Zhou Yi’s strength had never reached the False Core—he was still a long way off.

In reality, though Zhou Yi had broken through the innate stage, gaining a tremendous boost in strength, and though his foundation was remarkably solid—so much so that after his breakthrough, his power had climbed to an astonishing level—by any measure, he was no more than a peak Heaven-and-Man cultivator, about equal to Xue Kai, still a notch below Mo Hu.

In this, their initial estimation of Zhou Yi’s strength had actually been correct.

Yet, through a series of errors and misunderstandings, their assessment of Zhou Yi’s power had only grown, until they had frightened themselves almost to death.

To put it bluntly, it was a magic lantern show—a trick of the light.

A magic lantern can deceive for a time, but its illusions must eventually be revealed. Just as Mo Hu was about to launch his attack, he noticed something amiss. Growing suspicious, he observed carefully and understood.

Huang Yue hadn’t noticed at first, but with Mo Hu’s prompting, she saw it too.

Within this unintentional lantern show Zhou Yi had conjured, lay a glaring flaw.

The flames and the black wind.

If Zhou Yi truly had the power of the False Core, he wouldn’t be dealing with these sub-False Core attacks in this way.

The flames couldn’t possibly linger on him for so long, and neither could the black wind.

If Zhou Yi’s strength were truly at the False Core, the flames would never have had the opportunity to receive the augmentation of the black wind, nor would their combined force have grown so much.

Though Zhou Yi stood there, unmoving amidst the flames and black wind, appearing completely indifferent and insufferably aloof, this too could be misleading. Perhaps it wasn’t that Zhou Yi didn’t wish to move—it could be that he simply couldn’t.

A gleam flashed in Mo Hu’s eyes as inspiration struck. He pieced together the clues and soon reached a probable truth: “It’s possible he’s relying on some unknown method to evade or resist these attacks. But whatever this unknown method is, it must be far from ordinary!”

“Perhaps, while using this technique, he himself is rendered immobile. And this technique, I suspect, is purely defensive—otherwise, why hasn’t he attacked at all?”

“If this skill or treasure or whatever it is had an offensive capability to match its defensive power, then even unleashing a fraction of that, a tenth—no, even one percent—would be enough to wipe us out with ease.”

“Why hasn’t he done so?”

“So, there can only be one answer!” Mo Hu’s eyes shone brilliantly, his thoughts aligning, his whole being invigorated: “His strength may be respectable, but he’s nowhere near the False Core, nor at any level beyond our reach!”

“He’s merely relying on some means still unknown to us to withstand our attacks—perhaps a treasure, perhaps something else!”

“But that’s no longer important. What matters is this: his true strength is, in fact, not that high!”

“Now our only problem is, how do we break through the formidable defense created by whatever he’s using?”

The fire had not gone out, proving its effect persisted; the black wind had not faded, proving it still lingered. The two coexisted, which meant Zhou Yi had no corresponding means of counterattack.

Thus, no matter how strong Zhou Yi’s defense might be, he was still a target—every target can, eventually, be broken.

And that moment was drawing near.