Chapter 4475 — Frenzied Slaughter of a Thousand Blasts

To cut off spiritual sense entirely—for an ordinary cultivator, that was a wildly extravagant feat. The vast majority could train their whole lives and never reach such a height; it demanded an extraordinary natural gift for spiritual sense, paired with unflagging, ceaseless cultivation, merely for a sliver of a chance at achieving it.

The crowd sighed in admiration one after another. This Wu Baoliang, who had sprung up out of nowhere, had been utterly unknown before, without so much as a shred of reputation—and yet who would have thought he was such a prodigy!

At that moment, within the black qi and frenzied sand, Wei Zhao did not simply fold his hands and await capture—that had never been his style in any case. Though spiritual sense could no longer fully perceive everything around him, Wei Zhao's own senses were keen enough, and with the jade pendant on his person, he could still detect latent danger well in advance.

The instant he was swallowed by the black qi and frenzied sand, Wei Zhao made his judgment at once: the black qi's function was, in all likelihood, to sever perception and isolate spiritual sense, and carried little threat in itself. What was truly lethal had to be the torrents of frenzied sand concealed within it, gathered into vicious currents.

So, fearsome as it looked, so long as he could evade those savage sand currents hidden in the black qi, he ought to be able to break this Frenzied Sand Thousand Blasts Fist of his opponent.

Of course, easier said than done. To actually accomplish it was as hard as climbing to the heavens, for the savage sand currents hidden in the black qi were not one or two in number but hundreds upon hundreds, and their speed was monstrous besides. To avoid them all completely while spiritual sense was obstructed—how could that be anything but daunting! Even with the jade pendant it would not avail him, for peril pressed in from front and back, from left and right alike!

But trapped as he was within the other man's black qi and frenzied sand, Wei Zhao could hardly just fold his hands and submit, still less sit down and wait for death. However slender the chance, he had to try.

Baring his full strength in the Butterfly Subtle Step, Wei Zhao's figure flickered back and forth ceaselessly beneath the shroud of black gauze, like a specter, drifting and elusive.

"Still not giving up? Then I'll play with you properly!" Wu Baoliang's signature cackling laugh rang out, grating and shrill amid the black qi and frenzied sand.

Before the words had faded, the hundreds of frenzied sand currents circling about suddenly hurtled toward Wei Zhao from every direction at once. The shriek of the sand tearing through the air grew ever sharper and more appalling, enough to set one's scalp crawling. A fainter-hearted man would not merely have been unable to dodge and weave through that black qi and frenzied sand—he would likely have been scared half to death.

Yet Wei Zhao remained calm and composed. Faced with the siege of those hundreds of savage sand currents, an ordinary man would long since have lost his head, not knowing what to do—but Wei Zhao's figure flashed and vanished among them, twisting and shifting this way and that.

The savage sand currents closed in from all sides with not a gap to be found between them, and yet Wei Zhao, relying purely on a body technique of the utmost agility, forcibly squeezed out a crevice for himself and successfully evaded the first round of the encirclement!

At that, Wu Baoliang—who had been somewhat casual about it all, intent on playing cat to a mouse—was genuinely taken aback. The Frenzied Sand Thousand Blasts Fist was his strongest trump card, his killing move; whenever he had unleashed it in the past, it had always butchered his opponent with ease, and it had never once failed him even against Nascent Soul cultivators.

Who would have thought that today, against a mere mid-stage Golden Core, there would be a hitch! No wonder this brat had been able to cripple a good hand like old Kong, at the peak of early Nascent Soul—he did seem to have some real skill after all.

Still, this was far from enough!

Killing intent congealed in Wu Baoliang's slanted triangular yin-yang eyes. Wherever the black qi shrouded was a domain he could command with his will. The savage sand currents began whirling ever faster around Wei Zhao, and soon formed a vast vortex of frenzied sand, with Wei Zhao situated precisely at its center, unable to advance or retreat.

An ominous premonition welled up in Wei Zhao's heart without warning. Even without touching the sand, he knew this thing must be exceedingly perilous—certainly not as simple as ordinary yellow sand.

Anything at all, once its speed reaches the extreme, can kill with ease—even a single grain of sand. The same principle underlies plucking a leaf or flinging a flower; how much more so a raging vortex of frenzied sand like this.

In such a situation, no matter how exquisite and nimble Wei Zhao's body technique, it was impossible for him to pass through the frenzied sand vortex unscathed. Before the other man unleashed his assault, there was only one sound response: to force his way out.

At such a moment there must be no hesitation whatsoever. Wei Zhao understood this well; without a word he at once gathered his true qi and struck out with the thirty-first form of the Frenzied Fire Eight Trigrams Palm—his most devastating martial technique at present. Whether he could break through the siege, success or failure, all hinged on this single blow.

Boom! The onlookers outside heard only a sudden thunderous crash. As to what had actually happened on the platform, they could not perceive at all, and could only crane their necks in anticipation, exchanging glances.

Within the black qi and frenzied sand, Wu Baoliang's expression changed abruptly. This brat had actually torn his frenzied sand vortex apart by main force!

For a moment, even Wu Baoliang could not help but look at Wei Zhao with new eyes. The darting and weaving before could be put down to cleverness, but this blow had been a straight clash of strength against strength. Even those peak early Nascent Soul experts would find it hard to produce such astonishing destructive power. This Ling Yi, who had appeared from some unknown corner, was evidently no small matter after all.

One palm blast had carved out a passage, and the tightness in Wei Zhao's chest eased at once. He hurried to seize the chance and withdraw. If even this had failed, then today he would truly have been in danger.

With Wei Zhao's ultimate trump card, no matter how powerful the opponent, so long as he was given enough time to build up his power, he would inevitably have the last laugh in the end—of that there was no doubt.

Yet just at that moment, Wu Baoliang's cold shout came from afar: "Detonate!"

Wei Zhao's hair stood on end in an instant, and only then did he suddenly realize the name of his opponent's move: it was not the Frenzied Sand Fist but the Frenzied Sand Thousand Blasts Fist. Everything before had been mere groundwork; the crucial part was this word "detonate"—that was where the true lethality lay.

Unfortunately, to grasp it only now was, by any reckoning, too late.

Boom! Boom! Boom...

A succession of thunderous roars, like a string of dense firecrackers, rang out through the entire Moleng Plaza in an instant. Everyone present wore expressions of alarm, staring at the platform with faces of dread, so shocked that their jaws hung open for a long while.

Shrouded as it was in black qi, what exactly was happening on the platform remained unknown to them—but after all, many among those present were seasoned and well-informed, and the power behind a shock of such intensity could be guessed at even with one's toes.