Chapter Sixty-Three: Peak of Early Foundation Establishment

Silence!

All along the perilous mountain path, only the clear calls of birds could be heard, the gentle murmur of water, the faint touch of the wind, and the heavy scent of imminent danger. Jiang Pingchuan sat atop his horse, behind him Ma Shan, Feng Tong, and their retinue.

Jiang Pingchuan alone rode at the front, the treacherous path winding for miles ahead along the mountainside. One misstep would plunge him into the abyss, shattering him to pieces. He sat motionless, never turning his head, and all was utterly still behind him.

“Chief Tuoba, you’ve been waiting for some time, haven’t you?”

Jiang Pingchuan rolled his riding crop in his hand. As soon as his words faded, an old man’s cough sounded behind him—a sound all too familiar. Still, Jiang Pingchuan did not look back. He waited, waited for the other to let down his guard, waited for the chance to strike Tuoba Hewu with a sudden, grievous blow.

“How did you know it was me, Brother Jiang?”

Draped in a black robe, Tuoba Hewu stepped before Jiang Pingchuan and turned to face him. He looked as frail and sickly as ever, coughing and stooped, but in Jiang Pingchuan’s eyes, this was all an act.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too cautious, Chief Tuoba? Sometimes, the more careful you are, the easier it is to reveal a flaw.”

Jiang Pingchuan swung one leg over the saddle, sitting sideways with his back to the cliff. Tuoba Hewu chuckled and shook his head helplessly.

“So long as Brother Jiang lives, Young Master Feng Tong cannot sleep in peace.”

With a shake of his black robe, an aura gathered instantly around Tuoba Hewu, his purple energy clashing with Jiang Pingchuan’s.

“A peak cultivator of the Changfeng Continent? Are you at the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage?”

When Tuoba Hewu unleashed the full extent of his power, a chill crept into Jiang Pingchuan’s heart. Never before had he met such a formidable cultivator on this continent.

Still, Jiang Pingchuan thought, if not for the restrictions placed upon cultivators here, Tuoba Hewu’s strength would surely be even greater.

“In the past, I would not have dared call myself a peak expert, but now, there are few on the Changfeng Continent who can be my match.”

A hint of pride flickered in Tuoba Hewu’s eyes. Jiang Pingchuan leapt from his horse, standing before him, whip in hand.

“Why?” Jiang Pingchuan asked in a low voice—why had Tuoba Hewu hidden his strength, and why had he come to kill him?

“Only by obeying Young Master Feng Tong can I safeguard the Tuoba clan.”

As he finished, Tuoba Hewu’s face twisted with rage and he struck at Jiang Pingchuan. Jiang had already summoned his defensive aura, shielding himself, yet Tuoba’s blow sent him staggering back dozens of steps before he could steady himself, his chest and abdomen churning violently. He felt as if his gut had been tied in knots, making every breath a struggle.

“So this is the power of a peak Foundation Establishment cultivator. It seems you cannot kill me with one blow.”

Jiang Pingchuan rubbed his chest, his voice barely more than a whisper. He had little strength left; each breath sent pain surging through him, leaving him dizzy and lightheaded.

“Brother Jiang, that was just a casual blow. If I had used my full strength, you’d already be dust.”

Tuoba Hewu could tell Jiang Pingchuan had been wounded by that last strike, and felt satisfied. If his casual attack had failed to injure Jiang at all, he would have been uneasy.

“Use your full strength, or I fear you won’t have the chance to strike back when I make my move.”

Jiang Pingchuan balled his fists, staring at Tuoba Hewu. For a moment, Tuoba Hewu was taken aback, but then burst out laughing, his coughs failing to interrupt his wild, unrestrained mirth.

“Very well, I’d like to see how you’ll leave me no chance to strike back.”

Energy surged around Tuoba Hewu as he conjured a leopard in his palm, its eyes glowing emerald as it fixed on Jiang Pingchuan. Jiang met the beast’s gaze unflinchingly; now was not the time for cowardice—hesitation meant death.

“Summon, Snowstorm Leopard!”

Tuoba Hewu’s incantation echoed, and as soon as his words ended, the leopard let out a roar and leapt at Jiang Pingchuan, growing larger as it drew near.

Jiang pressed his palms together, sitting cross-legged, and spun his hands to create a vortex of purple energy that enveloped him.

“Windbreaker Array—Command!”

The leopard showed no fear of the swirling vortex, jaws wide and fangs gleaming coldly as it snapped at Jiang Pingchuan’s head. With a howl, it crashed into the Windbreaker Array and recoiled, one fang shattered, its mouth bloodied. Lowering its head, it circled the array, searching for a chance to pounce.

Tuoba Hewu was surprised at the sturdiness of Jiang Pingchuan’s defensive formation; his summoned beast had failed to make a dent. Muttering another incantation, Tuoba forced the Snowstorm Leopard’s eyes to glow bright red as it growled at the array, claws slashing and tearing at the barrier in a frenzy.

Inside the array, Jiang Pingchuan watched the now-fearless Snowstorm Leopard, his face pale. The onslaught began to crack his Windbreaker Array, the purple energy unable to fully mend the breaches.

It was clear the leopard was not truly real—it was a manifestation of Tuoba Hewu’s energy, just as the array was a product of his own. Both were burning their inner reserves to sustain their attacks and defenses.

Yet to Jiang Pingchuan’s secret delight, he found his body’s restorative energy circulating faster and faster, drawing not only upon his own reserves but even absorbing some of the Snowstorm Leopard’s aura to fill his depleted dantian. As long as the array held, he was confident Tuoba Hewu would tire first; Jiang had no fear of running out of energy.

“Snowstorm Leopard, return!”

Seeing the array steady itself again and again, Tuoba Hewu realized that if this continued, both he and Jiang Pingchuan would be utterly spent. With Feng Tong and Duolun watching nearby, he knew that if the two of them were drained, Feng Tong would surely kill them both to eliminate future threats.

Jiang Pingchuan saw Tuoba Hewu recall the Snowstorm Leopard and let a cold smile slip. With a roar, he exploded his purple energy outward, blasting the vortex apart.

The sudden detonation whipped up a violent gale. The nearby horses reared and neighed in terror, thrown into chaos by the shock.

“Old Chief, your life is forfeit!”

Jiang Pingchuan shouted, bursting through the cloud of sand and energy and punching straight at Tuoba Hewu. The old chief did not move.

Jiang’s fist struck Tuoba Hewu square in the chest, sending a fierce recoil up his arm. Numbness spread through his limb as blood trickled from Tuoba’s lips, yet the old man grinned wickedly. Suddenly, Jiang felt a surge of dread.

A howl—then a wet, terrible sound.

Jiang’s fist was still planted in Tuoba’s chest, but the Snowstorm Leopard had lunged from behind, passing through Jiang’s body and returning to Tuoba’s hand. Jiang’s eyes reddened, blood streaming from his lips as Tuoba Hewu looked at him, smiling.

“You’re still too green to take my life.”

Tuoba Hewu’s withered lips buzzed with the words. Jiang, head hanging, suddenly lifted his face and broke into laughter, gazing at Tuoba Hewu with wild eyes. The old chief stared, baffled by Jiang Pingchuan’s maniacal laughter, thinking him mad.

“Old man, you thought to use a move that harms both enemy and self to trick me? You’d better make up for those two hundred points you lost!”

Jiang spat, blood flecking his words. The fist pressed to Tuoba’s chest loosened and opened. Tuoba’s grin faltered, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Jiang kept his right fist pointed at Tuoba’s heart, slowly retreating. With each step he took back, a bloodstained spear shaft appeared where his fist had touched Tuoba’s chest.

Tuoba Hewu stared in shock at his own chest—at some point, an invisible spear had pierced clean through him. When Jiang had retreated three paces, a gaping, bloody hole marred the old chief’s chest.

“Die!” Jiang shouted, spinning around—only for darkness to swallow him as a palm and a fist struck him, sending him plunging off the cliff.

The two men at the edge of the precipice exchanged savage grins and strode toward Tuoba Hewu.