Chapter 4897 — An Attempt at Fusion
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 3
Seeing that Wei Zhao would not even spare him a glance, Chang Laiting's face at once became unbearable. Stung into fury, he snarled, "Northern Island trash, it seems I underestimated you after all. To trade blows evenly with a sword at thirty percent of my strength—you do have some ability. But this is as far as you go. I'll show you right now the gap between a genius and a waste!"
"Thirty percent of your strength?" Wei Zhao smiled at that, a trace of amusement in it, and glanced at him. "Then how much are you planning to use next—thirty-five percent, or forty?"
"Northern Island trash, don't get cocky too soon!" Chang Laiting's old face flushed red. That sword strike had not been at full power, true enough, but to claim it was merely thirty percent was sheer boastful self-flattery—sixty or seventy percent, at the very least, was closer to the mark.
The words had scarcely fallen when Chang Laiting thrust another sword at Wei Zhao's face. This time, goaded past all patience, he struck with his full power. The black sword fairly howled with a strange rumbling roar, the three streams of light upon it—azure, yellow, and crimson—whirling madly, bursting out of thin air time and again as though exploding. Even Wang Xinyan and the others, standing far off, could feel the terrible might contained within.
"To die beneath my own unique Blast Sword—count that as your fortune. Rest easy and go!" Chang Laiting sneered, his face hideous.
Blast Sword? Wei Zhao's gaze narrowed slightly. The true qi before him erupted and he abruptly retreated at speed, while seizing the chance to study closely those three-colored streams of light on the other's black sword.
Chang Laiting gave chase, closing in, the black sword all but pressed against Wei Zhao's chest, the booming explosions ceaseless in his ears. Had Wei Zhao's true qi defense not been so thorough, he would long since have been blasted to dust and bone.
At the sight, Wei Zhao's eyelid twitched. Wood, metal, and fire fused together—and the fellow had actually wrung from them an effect like the explosives of the mortal world. This man was a talent, no doubt about it.
And from this alone one could see that the other must have devoted thought, even cultivation, to the idea before ever entering the Path of Giants—otherwise it would have been utterly impossible for him to master such a move within mere days of advancing to Xuan Sheng.
After all, a qualitative transformation lay between the Xuan Sheng and Nascent Soul stages. One with somewhat better talent might quickly grasp the basic use of multi-attribute true qi, but for someone like Chang Laiting to master in so short a time a move unique to Xuan Sheng experts, such as the Blast Sword—the difficulty of that was no small thing.
It was not merely a matter of carrying three attributes at once; it was causing a qualitative change, as though a chemical reaction, to arise among the three. Without prior, deliberate preparation, one would not merely fail to master it—one would not even think of it.
Herein lay the gap between the Eastern Continent Academy disciples and those of the outer islands. Their conditions were simply too good: not only did they enjoy a cultivation environment and resources blessed by heaven, but, rarest of all, they had experts of the Xuan Sheng stage and above to instruct them in person. They had made early preparations for what path they would walk in the future—a systematic, all-around guidance available only at the Eastern Continent Academy.
The outer island disciples, by contrast, the vast majority of them, could only grope their way forward like Wei Zhao. If they all had heaven-defying talent like his, that would be one thing—but how many Wei Zhaos were there under heaven?