Chapter 145: Magical Duel, The Premature Ghost

Facing the roaring sound of the dragon and tiger, Ji Ming held the plum branch, used the Earth-Shrinking technique to flash away, while Qian Geng dissolved entirely into a puddle of ground water, executing a swift water-escape to the side.

Only the little dragon poking its head out from the well took the full brunt of this sonic blast squarely.

With two crisp "crack" sounds, the pair of eyeballs on the dragon's head burst open simultaneously, and the shattered fragments of the eyeballs scattered along the well's rim.

"The dragon's son!" Qian Geng exclaimed with a feigned expression of shock.

He had indeed noticed the little dragon at the wellhead earlier, but lacking the confidence to withstand the Zen master's terrifying sonic attack, he had chosen to use the water-escape to flee alone.

Blood and certain bodily fluids flowed from the two hollow sockets of the little dragon. As if stunned dumb by the impact, it dug its two claws into the underside of the well rim and stupidly poked its head out.

Master Sulao's gaze had been following the celestial being the entire time, and the divine techniques and magical charms revealed when the other party used the Earth-Shrinking technique made his heart skip a beat.

"No wonder he could elude my senses; it turns out he has an expert guiding him from behind."

Master Sulao said lightly, putting away his soiled precious bowl. After glancing at the flesh and blood that had blown apart beneath the bowl, he turned around and descended the peak without looking back.

Having deduced that he could not immediately see through the divine powers carried by the celestial being, there was naturally no need to continue this futile spell-fight here.

Moreover, he believed that this divine power would not remain in the celestial being's possession for long; he only needed to wait patiently and then deliver a fatal strike.

The Zen master's departure was clean and unhesitating. With a few strides, he arrived before the temple hall.

The cultivator carrying the black lacquer gourd sat in a daze, unable to cope with the instantaneous changes. Subconsciously, he looked toward the little dragon on the well—that was originally their predestined fortune.

At the well, the dragon's head slowly tilted upward, opening its slender maw. From deep within its throat came a harsh, grinding sound, crackling as if something were struggling to crawl out.

A flickering, intense light appeared deep in the throat. Ji Ming narrowed his eyes and peered into the mouth, where a brilliantly glowing silver nail rested.

"This is the dragon's son's self-defense mechanism after losing consciousness."

Qian Geng quietly retreated, terrified of being targeted by the little dragon.

"Self-defense?" Ji Ming watched the leaping arcs of thunder gradually condensing inside the dragon's mouth and asked doubtfully, "Isn't this getting ready to attack?!"

"For a dragon, even a flood-dragon of lesser lineage, the best defense has always been an offense."

In front of the temple hall, Master Sulao turned around, gazing at the small flood-dragon draped over the well rim with its pair of empty eye sockets, thunder arcs crackling within its jaws.

The moment he made a move, the dragon's mouth snapped shut, followed by a hysterical roar.

The howling winds and cold snow on the peak froze in place amidst the roar, and that single arc of thunder crossed hundreds of meters in the blink of an eye.

The Zen master reacted at the very last fraction of a second, exerting force through the soles of his feet to shatter several large bricks as he flashed to the side. However, the ground beneath his feet seemed to shrink, and he found himself fixed in place, nailed viciously to the ground by the thunder arc.

Ji Ming's eyes widened. Unable to help himself, he took a step forward, shrinking the distance to appear thirty paces in front of the Zen master.

The thunder arc, resembling a distorted and slender long halberd, pierced directly through the Zen master's chest, pinning his physical body to the ground in a semi-reclined posture.

The pierced area of his chest was charred completely black, still smoking faintly. The kasaya monastic robe he wore was damaged, and a few wisps of spiritual light flickered uncertainly.

"Impossible."

Ji Ming instinctively took a few steps back.

In his eyes, this Master Sulao—whom he regarded as a mortal enemy of a lifetime—had always been the epitome of a powerful cultivator; it was impossible for him to die in such an absurd manner.

Even though he had seized the exact right moment earlier, using the plum branch to forcibly pin the Zen master in place to be pierced by the thunder arc, Ji Ming believed this was not enough to kill him.

"Hehe... wuwu..."

At the well, the little dragon laughed and cried simultaneously, crawling out with great difficulty. Dragging its bleeding, half-crippled body, it inched down the mountain path step by step until it reached Master Sulao.

Ignoring Qian Geng's dissuasion, it grabbed the thunder-halberd that pinned him to the ground, used it to prop up its upper body, and raised a claw to grope toward the Zen master's eyes.

"You have a saying: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," the little dragon murmured in its mouth. "Now, I'm just taking your pair of eyes."

Beneath the glittering, razor-sharp three-toed claws, that pair of dignified eyes suddenly snapped open, first casting a glance toward Ji Ming on the side.

Ji Ming understood the meaning within that gaze instantly; the look was saying, 'I have already seen through your tricks now.'

"Change!"

Hearing the Zen master suddenly shout this command, Ji Ming in the distance and the little dragon close by were both struck with utter astonishment. One transformed into a sheep, the other into a donkey, bleating and braying aloud.

"The Creation-Beast Sorcery!"

Ji Ming thought to himself.

He watched with his own eyes as the plum branch dropped to the ground, and then sensed a streak of glowing light fiercely crashing down from outside the peak.

He tumbled upright, stumbling to maintain his balance. Directing the primordial energy in his "Cloud-Hand Lungs," he condensed a Single-Breath Great Seizing Hand to intercept the beam of light.

A round mirror unfolded behind Ji Ming's sheep head, directly illuminating the Zen master. Heart's blood spewed out within the round mirror, scattering across Ji Ming's sheep wool.

"Baa!"

Ji Ming originally wanted to emit a low, authoritative grunt, but the sheep bleat that slipped from his mouth made him decisively shut up.

The Zen master grabbed the thunder-halberd that pinned him and wrenched it out with a fierce yank. The thunder light dissipated, the halberd transforming back into a silver nail, and then a human figure stepped forth from within his body.

This figure struck out with a punch into empty air. The force of the fist swept past the back of Ji Ming's head, knocking the round mirror down, and then abruptly wedged itself among the void strongmen. Its target was none other than the plum branch held in the strongmen's hands, which was about to be delivered to Ji Ming.

"Divine General!"

The Siting Strongman scripture was merely the foundation of the Taiyi Armor-Division True Method, capable only of summoning strongmen.

Above that lay the Spiritual Light Divine General chapter, but that could only be refined upon reaching the four realms of the Golden Elixir. Master Sulao had actually managed to refine it prematurely while still in the third realm.

"Quick, drink water! Drinking water can break this beast-transformation sorcery!" Qian Geng shouted a reminder from far away.

The little dragon hurriedly opened its mouth to inhale, sucking in a vast amount of water vapor. Unexpectedly, that very silver nail was tossed directly into his throat by the Zen master, choking him on a mouthful of blood and water.

Terrified, he scrambled back to the well and plunged headfirst into it.

Just as Ji Ming prepared to consume the frost and snow on the ground, a pair of straw sandals appeared before him. An invocation of the Buddha's name rang in his ear, followed by a question: "Do you have any other tricks?"

The Flowing-Sustenance Sword flew out, hanging suspended in mid-air as it transformed into two streaks of sword Qi.

"Whoosh!"

"Whoosh!"

Accompanied by two sharp, piercing whistles, they swept past Master Sulao's waist, only to be intercepted and tightly clenched by a pair of magical bone arms growing from beneath his ribs.

"Fine flying swords." Upon those two streaks of sword light, the Zen master sensed the exact same aura as the plum branch, which made him even less inclined to lower his guard.

By this time, Ji Ming had bitten into the frost and snow, tumbled upon the ground, and reverted to his naked human form.

"Celestial Being!" The upper pair of the Zen master's arms pressed together in a prayer gesture, full of compassion as he said, "After your death, I will guide your soul to the command of a divine entity in the southern skies. In the netherworld of the underworld, you will have a second life. Perhaps we shall meet again in the future; I hope by then you will call me a True Person."

Ji Ming smiled, raised his head, and softly spat out two words toward Master Sulao standing before him: "Yellow Bit."

"Wah—" A shrill, piercing cry echoed somewhere near the well, gradually shifting from crying to loud laughter, and from laughter to shouting: "Too early, too early."