Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8395: Sneak attack (1)

Earlier, Zhao Hai called Fu Ling to return since he noticed the island Lord's words had already disrupted Fu Ling's mental focus. Should another opponent step forward to challenge him next, Fu Ling could struggle to unleash his maximum power. That was why Zhao Hai summoned him back. Having secured a victory in the prior bout, Fu Ling was entitled to retreat and recover. Plus, he still held eligibility for future matches. Xiong Baoshan, on the other hand, faced defeat. As a result, he forfeited any chance to join the ongoing fights. Bringing Fu Ling back to relax and steady his thoughts was essential.

These ideas raced briefly across Zhao Hai's thoughts. Next, he turned his gaze toward the Alliance Army and declared in a grave tone, "Senior brother Liu Qing, step forward for this round of combat!" As Zhao Hai's command echoed, a yell erupted from his rear. Immediately after, a silhouette dashed ahead from behind him, soaring into the empty sky.

Liu Qing stood around 1.8 meters in height, possessing a lean build and striking good looks. Clad in the typical garb of the Blood Slaughter Sect, he appeared unremarkable at first glance. Yet, he gripped a lengthy sword in his grasp. This sword measured roughly three feet, featuring a slim and extended edge without any bend. Its point seemed keen and pointed. His face held a frosty demeanor. Paired with that sword, he exuded an undeniably impressive vibe.

Right then, a figure shot out from the enemy forces. This individual wore a dark robe that shrouded even his features. He positioned himself before Liu Qing, eyed him, and let out a chilly huff, "Let me test the might of the Blood Slaughter Sect's cultivation methods." With those words, he waved his hand, summoning a long spear into his hold. Clearly, this spear suited close-quarters fighting, unlike those designed to draw in Yin ghosts. The weapon stretched over three meters, topped with side prongs and ending in a razor-sharp head. It resembled a massive cross spear.

Liu Qing cast a quick look at his foe and smirked, "You're from the Dark Ghost Sect, eh? Fine by me—I'd love to check out the uniqueness of your 13 Exorcism Flags." Once done speaking, he seized the sword with both hands, leveling it across his torso. He fixed a fierce stare on the Dark Ghost Sect practitioner.

Evidently, neither fighter favored chit-chat. They skipped introductions and geared up for battle. Still, nobody faulted them for it. With countless competitors in the mix, personalities varied widely. Some boasted their identities, others stayed silent—it was all commonplace.

The Dark Ghost Sect fighter, brandishing the hefty banner, eyed Liu Qing with a sneer, "I'd like to witness the prowess of the Blood Slaughter Sect's sword skills. Brace yourself!" He finished and lunged the banner forward in a direct stab at Liu Qing. The thrust itself was straightforward, yet it blazed with incredible speed. His form shifted, and the banner seemed to close in on Liu Qing in an instant. Such velocity was truly astonishing.

A glint of icy sharpness flickered in Liu Qing's gaze. In this tense instant, he twisted aside and smacked the sword's flat side against the banner. Then, the blade clung to the banner's shaft, shoving it away. This technique was quite basic—a classic deflection that borrowed the opponent's momentum. It was a standard tactic for wielders of shorter arms against those with extended reach.

The Dark Ghost Sect opponent gave a cold grunt. He then vibrated the banner, shoving Liu Qing's sword along its length. Pulling back the banner next, its prong whipped toward Liu Qing's rear. Liu Qing angled his sword backward to parry the prong. But in that split second, the banner whipped upright and hammered down toward the nape of Liu Qing's neck.

Now the banner acted like a massive metal slab. Wind whistled as it descended. A solid hit would crush the back of Liu Qing's skull. Yet Liu Qing remained unfazed. He abruptly dropped low, evading the blow. Simultaneously, he spun his body level in the air, launching a double-legged kick at the Dark Ghost Sect foe.

The Dark Ghost Sect cultivator pivoted away, avoiding Liu Qing's strike. Gripping the banner firmly with both hands, he swung it in a wide arc at Liu Qing. The banner's weight made it devastating—if it connected, Liu Qing might not endure. Naturally, Liu Qing evaded the swing. He pulled back while hoisting his sword high and cleaving downward.

The slash's timing proved spot-on, striking precisely at the spear's tip. A piercing 'ding' rang out, loud and shrill. His frame shook involuntarily, forcing him to retreat three paces to regain balance. His rival fared even poorer. Though the foe's spear outweighed his sword by far, the sweeping motion diluted its force compared to a piercing thrust. The power mismatched, so it couldn't rival Liu Qing's chop. Unprepared for the slash's ferocity and precision, the enemy jolted as if thunderstruck when the blade met his spear's end. Stumbling back six or seven steps with heavy thuds, he barely steadied himself.

Liu Qing naturally wouldn't squander this opening. He propelled forward, pressing the assault while his opponent teetered off-kilter. Though the Dark Ghost Sect disciple hadn't recovered his footing and his stance wobbled, he still flailed the banner wildly. But the tide had turned against him. Liu Qing's swordplay erupted in full force. This wasn't the Eight Forms of Bloody Battle, but a different Blood Slaughter Sect technique known as the Eight Blood Lightning Strikes. The Eight Blood Lightning Strikes formed a straightforward sword style. It boasted few maneuvers but excelled in velocity. His blade moved like a thunderbolt.

Certainly, mastering this sword art to its depths meant every cut flashed like lightning—not just swift, but capable of abrupt shifts, akin to bolts veering or forking into myriad paths. Such a style emphasized blistering pace and fluid redirection.

That said, Liu Qing hadn't attained that proficiency yet. He grasped only the essence of speed, not the art of redirection. Even so, it sufficed for the current clash. His adversary wielded a lengthy weapon, and long arms rarely shone in quickness. This held especially true for the cumbersome spear in play, infamous for its sluggishness. Whether the foe could fend off Liu Qing's barrage of strikes remained in serious doubt.

Zhao Hai knew Liu Qing's sword method intimately. Indeed, he was versed in every renowned sword art of the Blood Slaughter Sect. Having observed and trained in them all, he identified Liu Qing's style at once. He also recognized that sustaining this rapid swordplay proved taxing—it demanded vast spiritual energy, limiting its duration. This rang especially true given Liu Qing's present power level.

Should Liu Qing's opponent weather this onslaught, he could counter during Liu Qing's fatigue and energy lapse, shifting the battle's momentum. Yet Zhao Hai observed that the enemy's prowess matched Liu Qing's at best. Coupled with the weapon's burdensome heft, the foe likely couldn't endure the incoming flurry.

True to Zhao Hai's foresight, Liu Qing's relentless barrage exceeded fifty exchanges. The opponent faltered in his defenses, allowing Liu Qing's blade to sever his left arm clean off. A agonized cry escaped the man, but Liu Qing offered no mercy. Twisting his sword, he beheaded the foe in one fluid motion.

Those two cuts blurred with speed. Even if allies sought to intervene, they'd fail. Thus, they could only witness the Dark Ghost Sect cultivator's demise. Liu Qing halted his blade, glanced at the fallen enemy, and scoffed coldly. He claimed the Dark Ghost Sect cultivator's weapon along with his spatial items. Without awaiting Zhao Hai's cue, he swiftly rejoined his ranks.

That prior offensive surge had drained nearly all his spiritual power. A brief respite was in order. Lingering aloft for more combat risked a quick end at the hands of another adversary. Remember, the opponents consisted of elite disciples, no pushovers.

As Liu Qing retreated through the air, a see-through finger abruptly lanced from the Alliance Army's lines, aiming straight for his exposed back. Concurrently, a voice boomed, "You despicable coward, thinking you can flee after slaying my comrade?" With that shout, another figure burst from the Alliance Army's array.

Though this attacker branded Liu Qing as shameless, he embodied the term himself. He'd voiced his taunt only after unleashing the strike—a blatant ambush. Yet he dared label Liu Qing the villain. Liu Qing hadn't anticipated such brazen treachery amid the crowd. Caught off-guard, he offered no defense. Just as the finger neared his spine, a crimson digit materialized, colliding with it. A faint pop sounded, and both fingers vanished.

At that instant, Zhao Hai's voice cut through, "Aren't you ashamed for the Heaven Crippling Sect, resorting to such a cowardly ambush? Senior brother Liu, return to us. Who among my brothers wishes to spar with this Heaven Crippling Sect fellow?" Zhao Hai had kept a vigilant watch on his adversaries. He knew they were all scoundrels, unlikely to fight fair. So he'd stayed alert for foul play. Their sneak attack, though anticipated, didn't ruffle him. No rage stirred—such tactics were predictable.

Sure, he wouldn't stoop to their level in retaliation. The Blood Slaughter Sect slew plenty, but shunned such underhandedness. That didn't preclude vengeance, however. Their payback would strike boldly instead. Zhao Hai trusted that whoever faced the Heaven Crippling Sect combatant would ensure their end.

As anticipated, a figure leaped from Zhao Hai's rear. This one was short and wiry, clutching a two-foot curved blade. The knife's edge arced sharply. Without a single utterance upon emerging, he charged straight at the Heaven Crippling Sect disciple with a fierce slash.