56: Chen Yan vs. Hitter

Shen Xiaochuan still held his saber, his hand gripping it tightly. He stood on the chariot, unmoving, his gaze locked onto Hitel's neck—there was a purple scar there, and something seemed to be squirming beneath the skin.

Chen Yan walked back slowly, leaning on his battle-axe. His left arm was severed, and blood dripped continuously, forming a trail of dark red marks on the ground.

His steps grew slower and slower, his legs trembling slightly, yet he never fell.

Hitel looked down at his severed arm. Surprisingly, no blood flowed from the wound; black mist surged from the stump, and a few seconds later, a new arm quietly grew out.

The skin was a grayish-blue, its texture as rough as tree bark. He flexed his wrist and sneered, "You Huaxia people simply love to play tough."

Trump sat on his chariot and laughed loudly, "You want to leave after losing an arm? Aren't you ashamed?"

Shen Xiaochuan scanned the battlefield. His voice was not loud, but clear and forceful, "Medical team! Retrieve Chen Yan immediately! Watch your safety!"

Two healers in white robes rushed out from the city gate, carrying a stretcher toward Chen Yan. They had barely run ten meters when the ground shook violently, and several purple vines burst from the soil, lunging directly at their ankles.

Shen Xiaochuan's eyes turned cold. He drew a short blade with his left hand and flicked his wrist. The blade spun and flew out, instantly severing three vines. At the same time, Yang Lie arrived, sweeping his long halberd to cleave through the remaining two.

"Fall back," Shen Xiaochuan said to Yang Lie and the medical team, "Leave this to me."

Yang Lie nodded and quickly led the others to retreat.

Chen Yan finally reached the base of the city wall. He looked up at Shen Xiaochuan and opened his mouth, as if to speak, but in the end, he simply drove his battle-axe deep into the soil and sat down against it. His right arm was too weak to lift, and his face was as pale as paper.

Hitel sneered, "This is only the beginning; just wait and weep."

He slapped his palms against the ground, and the soil churned. Dozens of thick vines erupted from underground, wrapping around his body and quickly undergoing Fusion.

His body began to mutate: his shoulders and back widened and elongated, and his skin completely transformed into the texture of tree bark. Finally, his head changed; his bones protruded, his eyes sank, and two tentacles extended from his mouth.

"This is my true form." His voice was hoarse and low, "The Demon Vine Body is immortal and indestructible."

Shen Xiaochuan stared at him, his mind rapidly deducing the situation. The previous five attacks had all hit vital points, yet the opponent had been able to regenerate each time. The only anomaly was that every time he recovered, a flash of purple light would appear at the junction of his neck—that was the weak point.

He closed his eyes for a moment, calculating the timing for his strikes: seven strikes in total. The first five would clear the interfering vines, the sixth would decapitate him, and the seventh would guard against any sudden mutations. He could be neither too fast nor too slow; he had to hit the interval when it could not regenerate.

"You aren't attacking?" Seeing Shen Xiaochuan remain still, Hitel mocked, "Scared? Can you only stand there?"

Shen Xiaochuan did not answer, continuing to stare fixedly at his opponent, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

Hitel stopped abruptly and waved his right hand. A vine as thin as a needle flashed out like lightning. Its target, however, was not Shen Xiaochuan, but Chen Yan, who had already been placed on the stretcher. The vine pierced the inner thigh and instantly burrowed into the flesh.

"Urgh!" Chen Yan let out a muffled groan, his body convulsing violently. The vine continued to burrow deeper into his body.

"This is a Parasitic Seed." Hitel grinned hideously, "In three hours, it will burst from your heart and turn you into my Puppet."

Shen Xiaochuan's pupils constricted. He immediately ordered, "Everyone retreat fifty meters! Execute the original plan!"

The defending troops retreated quickly, and even the medical team withdrew. Only Chen Yan remained where he was, lying on the stretcher and trembling slightly.

"Boss…" Chen Yan gritted his teeth and shouted, "Don't mind me… kill him…"

Shen Xiaochuan did not move. He was observing the path of the vine—the seed was slowly traveling up along the blood vessels. With every bit it advanced, Chen Yan's face grew paler.

"You're still hesitating?" Hitel laughed loudly, "Do you want to wait for him to turn around and kill you?"

Shen Xiaochuan finally moved. But he did not charge at Hitel; instead, he walked toward Chen Yan.

Everyone was shocked.

Hitel was also stunned, "You want to save him? It's too late!"

Shen Xiaochuan crouched down and touched Chen Yan's thigh. The skin had already begun to turn black, and a purple line was slowly spreading upward. He stood up and ordered the medical team, "Turn him over, face down."

"What?" The doctor was startled.

"Do it." Shen Xiaochuan's tone brooked no argument.

The medical team quickly complied, turning Chen Yan into a prone position. Shen Xiaochuan drew his dagger and pressed it against the area below his waist.

"What are you doing?" Chen Yan's voice was weak.

"I'm forcing the seed out," Shen Xiaochuan said, "It will be very painful."

As he spoke, the dagger sliced open the skin. As soon as the wound was opened, Shen Xiaochuan pressed hard on both sides with his hands. Black blood gushed out, and a speck of black shadow wriggled within the flow.

The thing tried to escape, sliding toward the buttocks along the trail of blood.

Shen Xiaochuan had already cut off its escape route with his left hand, and with his right, he grabbed a handful of salt powder and sprinkled it into the wound. Chen Yan's whole body tensed, his teeth chattering, yet he never let out a single moan.

The black shadow was forced to turn, bulging under the skin, and finally surfaced on the outer thigh.

"It's out," Shen Xiaochuan said in a low voice.

He reached out two fingers, inserted them into the flesh, and pinched out a walnut-sized black embryo—its surface covered in tiny tentacles, still wriggling incessantly.

The entire scene fell silent.

Shen Xiaochuan held his palm high so everyone could see clearly. Then, he squeezed hard.

"Pop!" Black fluid splattered everywhere, emitting white smoke as soon as it hit the ground.

Chen Yan lay limp on the stretcher, his breathing shallow. The corners of his mouth moved slightly, as if he had said something, but no one heard it clearly, and then he fell into a coma.

The medical team immediately carried him back into the city.

On the battlefield, only Shen Xiaochuan and Hitel remained, facing each other.

"Impossible! How is this possible!" Hitel stared wide-eyed, locked onto the crushed embryo, his voice trembling, "How can a parasitic seed be manually removed? This defies logic!"

Shen Xiaochuan wiped the black blood from his hand and said calmly, "You said he would become a Puppet."

"Then why didn't you stop it?"

"Because I trust him."

Shen Xiaochuan looked the opponent directly in the eye, "He knew what to do."

Hitel was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed toward the sky, "Good! Very good! Let's see how long you can hold out!"

He spread his arms, and the vines on his body danced wildly. The ground exploded, and countless whip-like plants lashed out at Shen Xiaochuan like poisonous snakes.

Shen Xiaochuan drew his saber to meet the attack.

The first strike was a horizontal slash, severing three in front.

The second strike was a diagonal upward slash, tearing through the encirclement on the left.

The third strike was a thrust, forcing back the offensive on the right.

The fourth strike was a spin, clearing the vines beneath his feet.

The fifth strike unleashed power, shattering the remaining branches in the air.

Before the sixth strike had even finished, he had already closed in on Hitel.

The sixth strike was a vertical chop, aiming straight for the neck.

The saber fell, the head flew, and black gore splattered. The body stood stiff for a moment, then collapsed with a boom, turning into a pile of rotting plants.

The battlefield fell into a deathly silence.

Trump's expression was ugly, "Dead? Just like that?"

Before his voice faded, the ground split open again. A larger black seed burst from the soil, chasing directly in the direction Chen Yan had left.

Shen Xiaochuan had been prepared. He turned and slashed at the ground; the Saber Qi exploded, and the seed was pulverized on the spot.

"Parasitic talent," he said, sheathing his saber, "It can release one more time after the main body dies."

No one spoke.

The Huaxia defenders watched as Shen Xiaochuan stood alone in the center of the battlefield, his back to the city gate, facing the enemy line. His clothes were stained with blood, and there was no expression on his face.

Trump picked up a loudspeaker and gave a dry laugh, "What are you putting on an act for! You're just someone who can swing a saber! Do you really think you've won? We have hundreds more powerhouses about to enter the fray!"

Shen Xiaochuan turned and walked back to the chariot, step by step.

He stepped onto the platform, stood still, and cast his gaze toward the enemy line.

"You said earlier," he began, his voice not loud, yet it carried across the entire field, "that he didn't deserve to stand because he lost an arm."

"You mocked him for bleeding."

"Mocked him for persevering."

"Mocked him for refusing to fall."

He slowly drew his saber, the tip lightly touching the ground.

"And now?"

The entire field was silent.

Some in the South Alliance camp whispered among themselves. Some of the deities stopped laughing and frowned, looking in the direction where Chen Yan had disappeared.

Trump's expression shifted several times, and finally, he squeezed out, "Less talk! Who's coming to die next?"

Shen Xiaochuan ignored him.

He sheathed his saber, placed his hands on the edge of the chariot, and stood there quietly.