Xiao Yi gave a casual wave of his hand, and a small whirlwind vortex of true qi hurtled toward Sun Jingyan and Wang Xinyan: "Earth-Rank Martial Art, First Form."

Wei Zhao was startled—he had not expected Xiao Yi to kill without a word of warning—and, forgetting all about stalling for time down in the pit, he leaped out in haste and threw himself in front of Sun Jingyan and Wang Xinyan.

Luckily, Xiao Yi had only unleashed the ordinary First Form of an Earth-Rank art; in his view, that one move was already more than enough to kill Sun Jingyan and Wang Xinyan. Neither of them was a cultivator, and with no true qi to shield their bodies, using even the First Form on them was like firing a cannon at a mosquito—a waste of true qi.

The mental cultivation formula Sun Jingyan practiced was exceedingly peculiar, and she had no power tier of her own, so Xiao Yi naturally did not count her as a cultivator. Wang Xinyan was merely collateral damage—Xiao Yi did not even know her, but he did not mind killing her along with the rest.

"Boom!" Wei Zhao took another of Xiao Yi's moves head-on. That blow did him no real harm; it only jarred the spot where he was already injured. Even so, Wei Zhao was astonished: this was plainly the First Form of an Earth-Rank art, yet its power rivaled the Third Form—stronger even than the Mad Fire Fist! It seemed the people from that place were not limited to Tagan Long as their one heaven-defying existence.

What puzzled Wei Zhao somewhat was why the man did not cultivate Tagan Long's Five Elements Eight Trigrams Palm. Had it been the Five Elements Eight Trigrams Palm, Wei Zhao could have stolen a little more of it—his last attempt had been only half a success, and he could only unleash an art with five forms' worth of added power over the Mad Fire Fist. If he mastered it properly, could he unleash an art with ten extra forms?

The very thought was formidable: the Seventh Form of the Mad Fire Eight Trigrams Palm, as he unleashed it, would equal the Eighteenth Form of an ordinary Heaven-Rank art. Even a late-stage Heaven-Rank expert would be hard pressed to take such a blow—most likely he would be beaten half to death.

But Wei Zhao only indulged the thought. He guessed that the Five Elements Eight Trigrams Palm could only be unleashed by someone with a true Five Elements constitution, and Tagan Long was likely that man. This Xiao Yi, however, was not—nor were the former Great Protector, Xiao Liu, or Xiao Twelve. That was why their arts all belonged to schools of their own rather than the Five Elements Eight Trigrams Palm.

Taking advantage of the moment Wei Zhao had bought by absorbing the blow, Sun Jingyan dragged Wang Xinyan away. Xiao Yi could easily have caught up with them, but his chief target was Wei Zhao; in his view, the one who had wounded Tagan Long was Wei Zhao too, and Sun Jingyan was at most an accomplice. Best to deal with Wei Zhao first—that was the proper order of business!

Otherwise, if he went chasing after Sun Jingyan and Wei Zhao seized the chance to slip away, what then?

It was the noon break, and there were not many students at the university gate—most were eating in the cafeteria or resting in their dorms—but some wealthy students had gone off campus to eat. So, to avoid drawing a crowd, Xiao Yi wanted to settle Wei Zhao quickly and decisively.

"The boy's quite the romantic—on the very brink of death, and he still knows to let those two girls go first!" Xiao Yi regarded Wei Zhao coldly. "Your ability to take a beating is beyond my expectations. A peak mid-stage Earth-Rank expert, and you can actually withstand my Heaven-Rank Eleventh Form art—that is rare indeed! No wonder you could defeat Tagan Long!"

"Heh, being tough does me no good. If you unleash the Twelfth or Thirteenth Form, I definitely could not hold out—but the Eleventh Form, I just barely managed to bear." Wei Zhao began to bluff Xiao Yi. "But come to think of it, just what sect are you from? Before I die, at least let me die with my eyes open, eh?"

"As for what sect I am from, naturally I cannot tell you." Xiao Yi spoke blandly. "Some things are better left unknown. Dragon Rolls the Heavens—Twelfth Form! Go to hell!"

Power equal to the Fourteenth Form of an ordinary art surged wildly toward Wei Zhao—power enough to instantly kill even a peak early-stage Heaven-Rank expert! Wei Zhao dared not meet it head-on. He could only suspend the compression of his true qi bomb and use his true qi to shield his whole body.

Wei Zhao was already injured. Though not seriously, another blow like this would surely make him vomit blood—and this move was even stronger than the last! Fortunately, he had been prepared and had his true qi shielding him; otherwise, taken off guard, he would certainly have died beyond doubt.

"Boom—"

Once again Wei Zhao was swept up into the sky by the enormous tornado, then slammed heavily to the ground. This fall was heavier and more brutal than the last: Wei Zhao was driven two meters deep into the earth, coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood with a "pfft," and lay still in the pit.

Damn, this is fierce! Wei Zhao cursed inwardly. Good thing I had my wits about me, or I would either be dead or out cold by now!

Wei Zhao could only swiftly circulate the second layer of the Xuanyuan Dragon-Taming Art to repair the internal injuries to his body, keeping the true qi bomb suspended off to one side and carefully preventing it from exploding. Right now time was life—every moment he could stall was a moment gained!

"Boy, stop playing dead. Can you still stand?" Xiao Yi's voice rang out again, and Wei Zhao's heart lurched!

To his surprise, Xiao Yi was no fool—he had already sensed that Wei Zhao was not dead. There was no point in Wei Zhao keeping up the pretense any longer; reluctantly, and "slowly," he crawled out of the pit and staggered to his feet. "The Heaven-Rank Twelfth Form art is truly formidable. It nearly killed me."

Xiao Yi frowned and studied Wei Zhao's complexion—there was not the slightest sign that he was on the verge of death. He himself had unleashed the Twelfth Form of a Heaven-Rank art, which in theory equaled the Fourteenth Form of an ordinary Heaven-Rank art. Why was Wei Zhao still not dead?

How was this thing's ability to take a beating so strong? Was this really a peak mid-stage Earth-Rank expert? Even a peak early-stage Heaven-Rank expert would not be comfortable after that, would he?

"You've been hiding your strength?" Xiao Yi thought it over for a long while but simply could not fathom why Wei Zhao was so formidable, why even the Twelfth Form of a Heaven-Rank art could not kill him. It seemed this was the only explanation.

"Hiding my strength, and yet standing there taking blows without hitting back? Have you ever met anyone that foolish?" Wei Zhao retorted.

"That is true." Xiao Yi nodded, feeling a touch of curiosity about Wei Zhao. Were it not for his master's orders, he would even have liked to capture Wei Zhao first and study him carefully! But Wei Zhao was one of White Collar's students; they had already taken Han Jingyi, and if they took Wei Zhao as well, it would likely provoke a backlash from White Collar—and then there would be trouble.

At that thought, Xiao Yi gritted his teeth and decided to unleash his strongest form. He was an expert infinitely close to the Heavenly Dao realm, and so he treasured the true qi within his own body exceedingly. Though true qi would slowly recover after unleashing an art, still—if he could solve the problem with the least true qi, he would absolutely never waste a drop.

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