154: Chapter 154 Thunder Explosion Beads, A Difficult Counterattack!

An Inner Sect Disciple of the Luoxue Sect, a Great Martial Master Eighth Stage.

Actually managed to wound him, a Great Martial Master Ninth Level Peak?

"You..."

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found himself at a loss for words.

Ye Yun slowly stood up, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and pointed the burning snow sword diagonally at the ground.

A faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

That smile was very light and faint, yet it carried a chill that made one's heart tremble.

The middle-aged man's face was ashen, and the hand holding his sword trembled slightly.

He took a few steps back, staring at Ye Yun, intense killing intent surging in his eyes.

He looked down at the bloody gash on his chest, then at the wound on his arm torn open by Sword Qi.

His expression was terrifyingly gloomy.

A Great Martial Master Ninth Level Peak was actually wounded by a Great Martial Master Eighth Stage kid?

If word of this got out, where would he hide his old face?

What made his heart race even more was Ye Yun's growth speed.

A few days ago, he was only at the Great Martial Master Seventh Level, and now he was already at the Eighth Stage Late Stage.

His combat power far exceeded those of the same rank, and he could even execute the core sword techniques of the Qingfeng Sword Sect.

Someone like this would be a scourge for every day he remained alive.

"This boy absolutely cannot be allowed to live."

The middle-aged man muttered to himself, the killing intent in his eyes growing stronger.

"If I don't pull him out by the roots today, in a few more days, I'm afraid even I won't be able to suppress him."

He gripped the black longsword in his hand and slowly approached.

Ye Yun used the burning snow sword to support himself as he stood up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

His gaze was locked onto that grey figure; there wasn't a hint of fear in his eyes, but instead, a cold killing intent surged.

He had already confirmed it from that sentence just now.

This middle-aged man knew he was from the Luoxue Sect.

There were only a few people in the Luoxue Sect who had a grudge against him.

To be able to hire a Great Martial Master Ninth Level Peak to hunt him down, he could only think of one person.

Murong Yun.

A trace of chill flashed in Ye Yun's eyes.

He would remember this debt.

But before that, he had to survive today.

The middle-aged man walked closer, stopping three zhang away, looking down at him from above.

A sinister smile curled at the corners of his mouth.

"Kid, your talent is indeed astonishing. In all my years, I have never seen a young man as much of a Prodigy as you."

He slowly raised the black longsword, the tip of the blade pointing directly at Ye Yun's throat.

"Pity, you offended someone you shouldn't have. Today, you must die."

Ye Yun didn't waste words; he held the burning snow sword horizontally in front of him, golden Mystic Power flowing along the blade.

The middle-aged man spoke no more; his figure burst forward, the black longsword turning into a ghostly cold sword light, stabbing straight for Ye Yun's heart!

Ye Yun sidestepped to avoid it, the burning snow sword sweeping across; fiery red sword light and black sword light intertwined.

Bursts of dazzling light exploded within the valley.

The two fought from the valley entrance to the bottom, and from the bottom to the cliff wall.

Sword light flickered, air waves surged, and the gravel on the ground was ground to dust by the Sword Qi.

Deep sword marks were left on the cliff wall.

The middle-aged man's offensive grew increasingly fierce, every strike carrying a resolve to kill.

He no longer held back, pouring out his strength as a Great Martial Master Ninth Level Peak without reservation.

The sword momentum was like a violent storm, pressing down on Ye Yun until he could hardly breathe.

Ye Yun fought while retreating, the wounds on his body increasing.

His shoulders, arms, and back were covered in bloody gashes torn open by Sword Qi, blood soaking through his robes.

He looked as if he had been fished out of a pool of blood.

Yet he still did not fall, his teeth clenched tight throughout.

In the middle-aged man's frantic assault, he searched for that one slim chance.

Wen Yulan hid behind a rock, her hands covering her mouth, tears flowing uncontrollably.

She watched as Ye Yun was pushed back again and again, wound after wound added to his body.

Her heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly, the pain making it hard for her to breathe.

She wanted to rush out, to help him, but she knew.

With her meager cultivation, going out would just be seeking death and she would only become a burden to him.

"Ye Yun..."

She choked up, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

"You must stay alive."

The middle-aged man forced Ye Yun back with a sword strike, then retreated several steps to open up some distance.

He took a breath and stared at Ye Yun, a trace of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes.

After fighting for so long, this kid could still stand; he was simply a monster.

He couldn't drag this on any longer; if someone from the Luoxue Sect happened to pass by, there would be big trouble.

He reached his left hand into his robes and pulled out three black spheres the size of pigeon eggs.

The surfaces of the spheres were carved with fine lightning patterns, with faint arcs of electricity dancing on them, emitting a heart-palpitating violent aura.

Thunderstorm Pearl.

A single one could heavily injure a Great Martial Master Ninth Level Cultivator; with three released together, no one below the Martial Spirit Realm could block them.

"Kid, go to hell!"

The middle-aged man suddenly hurled the three Thunderstorm Pearls at Ye Yun.

The three black spheres trailed arcs of electricity, whistling through the air in a triangular formation!

Ye Yun's pupils constricted.

An intense aura of death enveloped him, making all the hairs on his body stand on end.

He could feel that the violent power contained within those three spheres was enough to blow him to pieces.

Flowing Cloud Steps!

Ye Yun pushed his movement technique to the limit, his figure turning into an afterimage as he desperately dodged to the side.

"Boom! Boom!"

Two Thunderstorm Pearls exploded behind him, violent lightning power sweeping through the surroundings.

Two large pits were blasted into the ground, gravel flying everywhere as arcs of electricity scurried across the earth.

Ye Yun dodged two, but could not avoid the third.

The Thunderstorm Pearl exploded at his side, the violent lightning power like countless sharp blades.

It tore through his Protective Mystic Power and slammed heavily into his body!

"Pfft—"

Ye Yun spat out a mouthful of blood, his entire body sent flying before slamming heavily onto the ground.

He rolled several times before coming to a stop.

The skin on his back was torn and his flesh mangled; his robes were shredded, revealing charred wounds beneath.

Blood gurgled from the wounds, staining the gravel beneath him red.

He lay prone on the ground, motionless, as if he were already dead.

"Ye Yun—!"

Wen Yulan could no longer hold back; she rushed out from behind the rock, stumbling as she ran toward Ye Yun.

Her tears blurred her vision, and her legs were so weak she could hardly take a step.

Yet she still ran desperately, ran with all her might.

The middle-aged man looked at Ye Yun on the ground, a triumphant smile curling at his lips.

Carrying his sword, he walked forward slowly, each step feeling as if it were treading on Wen Yulan's heart.

"A Great Martial Master Eighth Stage, to be able to hold out under my hand for so long, you are the first."

He walked up to Ye Yun, looking down at him, and raised his black longsword.

"A pity, you still have to die."

The blade was aimed at the center of Ye Yun's back, just about to stab down—

Ye Yun suddenly snapped his eyes open.

There wasn't a hint of death-bed despair in his eyes, only a killing intent cold to the extreme.

The middle-aged man's pupils constricted; he wanted to pull back his sword and retreat, but it was already too late.

Ye Yun suddenly flipped over, the burning snow sword thrusting upward from below, stabbing fiercely into the middle-aged man's chest!

"Puchi—"

The tip of the sword pierced through his chest and emerged from his back, blood gushing out like a fountain.

The middle-aged man's eyes widened as he looked down at the fiery red sword tip protruding from his chest, his face full of disbelief.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but could only spit out a mouthful of bloody froth.