Gong Liu lifted both hands, two enormous water dragons gradually forming behind him. In the eerie voice, killing intent could not be concealed—like serpent tongues in the dark, flicking out to claim the prey’s life.
"Hmph, same to you!"
The two men’s spiritual energies clashed, each sickened by the other. Su Liu’s wrist, gripping his sword, was already numb, his fingers trembling—he cursed Heaven for not granting him more time to cultivate.
With more time, he would surely take the life of that old dog Gong Liu!
Just by looking, Gong Liu understood the other’s thoughts. He gave a bloodthirsty smile, savoring Su Liu’s struggle before death. Yet, alas—there was no fear in Su Liu’s eyes, robbing him of some satisfaction.
But killing will suffice—the thrill can be left to Hua Yan’s wife within Liaozhou City.
The two colossal water dragons finally took shape. Gong Liu’s eighth‑rank spiritual pressure crushed Su Liu, leaving him immobile—he could only watch helplessly as the dragons closed in to strike.
"What heavenly fire meteors? From now on, the world will remember only my Changyuan Twin Dragons!"
Gong Liu’s triumphant voice rang out—yet suddenly broke off.
At the crucial instant, as the water dragons plunged down, a shimmering green vine coiled around Su Liu and carried him away.
The ferocious water dragons lunged in vain, turned mid‑air, and were summoned back by Gong Liu.
"What Changyuan Twin Dragons? What old loach, slippery eel nonsense? Old fool—dragons are born in water!"
A dazzlingly mocking female voice rang out. Gong Liu, long accustomed to high office—even the Emperor of Pingyun bowed respectfully to him—was, for the first time, mocked so brazenly by a woman.
He spun around in rage, only to be lashed across the face. The vine that struck him withdrew swiftly, leaving behind pain and a glaring scar on his face—a reminder that he had been slapped.
“You! Wretch, today I’ll make you suffer—unable to live, unable to die!”
Gong Liu’s beard bristled with fury as he glared at the woman who had ruined his scheme and scarred his pride.
Murong Yun clawed at the void with five fingers, and a supple vine swept Su Liu behind her. The effort brought a rush of blood to her mouth, drained her spiritual sea, and left her head splitting with pain.
“Why did you come back? Who asked you to interfere!”
Alas, the straight‑laced Su Liu couldn’t speak a word of gratitude. Not only did he fail to thank her, he even shot her a glare—resentful, as if hating iron that refuses to become steel.
Murong Yun couldn’t be bothered to argue. Lips pressed tight, she stayed silent, concentrating on the vines encircling her. She feared that if her strength slackened, they would spiral out of control.
Her body, after the recent turmoil, was utterly spent—like a lamp with no oil left to burn.
Still, fortunately, she had her staff—and one last trump card.
“Do you know what destiny is?”
Murong Yun looked at the frantic Gong Liu, his rage like a beast about to devour, and softly asked.
And in the span of that single sentence, the sky shifted violently. Though it was still a dim snowfall, all the dark clouds suddenly converged into one place.
On the wind‑lashed battlefield, soldiers could barely open their eyes. The gust tore the drumstick from Pingyun’s drummer, and as the war drum fell silent, the attack faltered.
“Are you out of your mind? Asking nonsense now—get moving! I’ll hold them off.”
Behind her, Su Liu tore the vines from his body, snatched up a weapon from the ground—its owner unknown—and tried to make Murong Yun flee.
Murong Yun not only ignored him, but with her vines flung him back into the encirclement of Liaozhou’s soldiers…
This scene was terrifyingly familiar.
“Hmph! Destiny? Today, my iron cavalry will crush Liaozhou City beneath its hooves!”
“I’ll strip you of your power and toss you to my soldiers to feast upon!”
Gong Liu narrowed his eyes, unwilling to waste another word. He only wanted to crush this ungrateful wretch, to force her to kneel, sobbing in bitter regret.
Yet the aura around seemed strange—so heavy. His water‑spirit energy felt sluggish, even parched.
Faced with such abuse, Murong Yun’s expression stayed calm—neither sorrow nor joy. She was conserving her strength for what lay ahead.
But when it came to trading barbs, how could she possibly lose?
Her eyes shifted, feigning respect, as she said: “Indeed. An old man who only knows herding cattle and sheep, with nothing more than a knack for grilling skewers—how could you possibly understand something so profound?”
“After all, the very purpose of destiny is—to let me rebel against Heaven!”
Murong Yun’s words rang with wild defiance. Under Gong Liu’s furious, fool‑struck gaze, she lifted her head toward the sky, where faint lightning glimmered in the clouds.
“Tell me, little Heaven’s Way—isn’t that so?”
This time, to achieve the greatest effect, Murong Yun did not provoke in her heart. She looked straight at the heavens, sensing that the consciousness above the clouds was furious.
But what use is rage? In the end, it must still obey her will—and smite her with thunder.
Almost as Murong Yun’s words faded, the colossal thundercloud erupted with a muffled roar—terrifying, primal, awakening humanity’s inborn reverence for nature.
Murong Yun too felt fear—beneath the raging thunder, her heart faltered for an instant.
“What’s happening????”
“How can there be thunder in the snow?”
“Is Heaven enraged? Should we abandon the siege?”
Under the rising voices of doubt and fear, Pingyun Kingdom’s morale collapsed.
Instead, the soldiers of Liaozhou City, having staked everything, fought with ever‑growing courage!
At this moment, even Gong Liu—who had once thought killing Murong Yun as trivial as crushing an ant—felt something was amiss. Uncertain, he watched her lift the bone staff upright above her head.
Until the thunder‑stone at the bone staff’s tip detected the thick lightning aura and lit up on its own—Gong Liu’s doubtful gaze snapped into astonishment.
“Impossible! How could you wield lightning? There are no dual‑element cultivators in this world!”
Facing Gong Liu’s incredulous, foolish question, Murong Yun didn’t spare him a glance. She stared steadily at the thunderclouds, fanning the flames, her expression haughty and begging for a beating.
“Dog Heaven’s Way—do you want to kill me? Do you crave my life? What are you waiting for!”
At last, Heaven’s patience snapped—or perhaps the snowy sky had simply taken too long to gather its thunder. Either way, the first bolt split the heavens, roaring, a barrel‑thick purple lightning crashing down upon Murong Yun’s head...
Everyone’s movements halted; even the battle was forgotten, as they stared dumbly at the sight before them...
Murong Yun’s heroic feat of surviving lightning in Liujing had not yet reached the borderlands; thus all believed she was no ordinary woman, able to summon the Nine Heavens’ thunder with her voice.
Even Gong Liu, arrogant as ever, dared not face Murong Yun directly now—for he was the nearest, and knew most clearly the might of that thunderbolt.
Yet under such devastating force, this woman—broken, her aura exhausted—still lived, alive and unyielding!
Gong Liu longed to run; even the massive water dragon at his back sagged, and his feet betrayed him, stumbling one step backward.
If not for clinging to his old pride, Gong Liu would have bolted without a backward glance.
Murong Yun recognized the familiar look of retreat on his face—for she had savored that emotion back and forth many times today.
But with things as they are—Heaven raging beyond control—such a price cannot be settled without lives sacrificed. A losing bargain is never worth making.
“Trying to run? Keep dreaming—the banquet’s only just begun!”
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