Otherworld Advance Team
Chapter 1521 - 1514: Damage Exchange

Chapter 1521: Chapter 1514: Damage Exchange

"So, you’re here to cause trouble, are you?" Cheng Ziang asked without any hint of panic.

"It was you who first crossed the Wuyun Sect," Pojun said coldly.

"So it seems, a battle between us is inevitable?" Cheng Ziang asked.

"Exactly." Pojun nodded.

"Will you guys behave if we deal with you?" Cheng Ziang asked with a tilted head.

"Sir, you’re perhaps too confident. We have more than twenty skilled fighters here," Pojun seemed somewhat angry.

"I’m just asking yes or no!" Cheng Ziang didn’t pick up on his cue.

"Yes!" Pojun gritted his teeth and forcefully spat out the word.

"Well then, let’s have our underling White Tiger exchange a few moves with you," Cheng Ziang shrugged nonchalantly and then moved aside.

"White Tiger?" Pojun mumbled this somewhat awkward name, suddenly, he felt a tingling on his scalp.

Following his intuition, he saw a slender figure standing where Cheng Ziang just stood, wearing a mask that completely concealed their face, with a knife on their waist and another on their back. After arriving at Cheng Ziang’s position, she smoothly drew the long knife from her waist, its beautiful blade decoration made people on scene sigh in admiration.

But what was most unforgettable was the terrifying killing intent emanating from her body. It was an extraordinarily strong aura of oppression, in sharp contrast with her petite frame, at times so suffocating that Pojun found it hard to breathe.

Because of the mask, Pojun couldn’t see her expression at this moment, but he noted the sharp, hawk-like eyes that were fixed intently on him, on his weaknesses, as if waiting for a chance to deliver a fatal strike.

This sense of oppression, due to a single sentence from Cheng Ziang, seemed much lighter, not so crushing that it left one gasping for air.

"White Tiger, go easy, don’t take any lives," Cheng Ziang leaned against a pillar, appearing unconcerned, and instructed Feng lightly.

"Understood." Feng obediently followed Cheng Ziang’s command, and her murderous aura instantly faded, as did the invisible oppression.

"Alright, if you’re here to cause trouble, make it quick. We have other matters to discuss after you’re done," Cheng Ziang urged.

A thought struck Pojun, just as he was about to move, a reminder came from a fellow disciple behind him: "Elder, be careful of their weapons, they are exceptionally sharp. Our bladed weapons will surely suffer."

"Hmm," Pojun nodded, then turned around and said loudly, "Since neither of us has a deep-seated grudge, why not fight barehanded?"

"Feng, is that alright with you?" Cheng Ziang looked at Feng and asked.

"Okay." Feng nodded obediently, then sheathed her knife and freed her hands.

"Then, I’ll take the liberty," Pojun said as he sheathed his own knife.

Following that, he swung his fists and charged towards Feng, his speed so fast it was evident he had practiced Banshan, otherwise, he wouldn’t have such superhuman speed.

Faced with Pojun’s sudden offensive, Feng was completely unflustered. She slightly moved her left foot backwards, drawing a semi-circle on the ground, and then her fingers converged into a palm, assuming a defensive posture.

As Pojun rapidly approached, Feng, calm and composed, began concentrating her energy. Then, like lightning, she struck out with her palm, forcefully meeting Pojun’s punch headed her way.

Upon seeing Feng willingly take on the punch, Pojun was overjoyed, for his strength was renowned. Should this fist land on Feng’s palm, it would, at the very least, shatter her arm bones.

However, he seemed to have committed the same mistake as Cheng Ziang, in that he had not grasped the true capabilities of his enemy. He didn’t even stop to think how such a slight figure as Feng dared to take him on in a direct clash of brute force.

By the time he realized this, it was already too late. His fist collided with Feng’s palm like lightning striking flint.

Even Cheng Ziang, who stood to the side, could feel the spine-tingling magical fluctuations emanating like waves from the point of contact between the two.

The very moment Feng took Pojun’s punch, she instantly began withdrawing her hand and started to step back. Yet, her stance looked somewhat awkward, as she rolled backward several times to barely counteract the force of Pojun’s punch.

In comparison to her disheveled escape, Pojun’s state could only be described as horrific. At the instant his fist met Feng’s palm, his entire arm reddened and veins bulged as if ready to burst.

Even though he had succeeded in sending Feng flying, he was completely unable to pursue her. Instead, he reeled back several steps and then began cradling his reddened arm, wailing in agony. After barely uttering a few syllables, a fishy taste welled up, and he couldn’t help but spew out a mouthful of fresh blood.

After vomiting blood, Pojun started coughing violently. It seemed pain seared through him anew, and he began rolling on the ground, clutching his arm in extreme torment. Not only was his arm in excruciating pain, but his body’s meridians also throbbed agonizingly, leaving him restlessly writhing in anguish.

Clearly, Pojun’s primary meridians had been severely damaged by the magic power Feng injected, and while not fatal, it meant he’d be unable to channel magic within his body for some time—at the risk of experiencing Magic Power Erosion.

It must be noted that possessing a cultivated constitution does not prevent one from Magic Power Erosion. This affliction has degrees of susceptibility but does not exempt anyone entirely.

Even a Wood Elf of pure lineage like Luo’er could suffer body damage from Magic Power Erosion, leading to a decline in magical aptitude.

After tumbling on the ground for a while, Feng slowly picked herself up and dusted off her clothes as if nothing had happened. Seeing this, Cheng Ziang quickly approached her with concern and asked, "Are you alright?"

"It’s nothing; I expected as much," Feng shrugged, her voice calm as if she was well-prepared mentally.

Feng was a master of the Royal Dao, which emphasized the release of energy, namely the release of magic, so naturally, her strength could not be compared with that of a Ba Path cultivator like Pojun.

Thus, she had planned in advance to withdraw upon taking Pojun’s punch and after actively infusing magic, to reduce the impact of his punch on her body. After all, had she taken the hit directly, his fist could have easily fractured her forearm.

Her attack strategy was exceedingly simple yet remarkably effective. She would gather magic at the Huihai Acupoint in her palm, compress it, and wait to release it. Once her opponent made contact with her, she would transfer the compressed Magic Cluster to the enemy. The unconstrained Magic Cluster would then expand explosively within the foe’s meridians, ravaging their body’s channels.

However, it should be explained that this was a technique of dimensionally mismatched combat. This approach is effective when used by someone with a higher level of cultivation against someone with a lower level. Pojun’s cultivation level was inferior to Feng’s, and naturally, his body’s meridians could not endure magic as well as Feng’s could, leading to severe injury from just one blow.

Had Feng faced off against Yichuan Long, such a tactic wouldn’t just be ineffective, it might even unintentionally replenish the opponent’s magic.

This was because judging by the contact made during combat, Yichuan Long’s meridian strength compared to Feng’s could only be considered superior—attempting to use this method against him seemed hardly likely to be effective.

In this unequal battle, Feng had clearly won. She took advantage of Pojun’s lack of knowledge about her to exchange uneven damage. She had dissipated the force Pojun had inflicted upon her, while Pojun could not dissipate the magic she injected into him, resulting in his body’s meridians being damaged and him writhing on the ground.

"Let me see," Cheng Ziang, not convinced by her words, took her hand and pulled it closer to inspect.

Sure enough, although Feng had successfully deflected the force, her palm, where it met the fist, still showed signs of a hot, red bruise, which made Cheng Ziang’s heart ache. He frowned and said, "How can you say it’s nothing when it’s like this?"

"It’s just a minor injury," Feng replied candidly.

"This is not a minor injury. Any problem with your body is no minor matter," Cheng Ziang insisted while gently massaging the injured area with his fingers.

"Thank you..." Feng looked at him somewhat shyly and, lowering her head, murmured her thanks.

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