Chief, don't hit me in the face

Chapter 37: The Power of the Clan

Song Guo held the torch high, illuminating the Underground Palace, yet it could not dispel the pervasive aura of murderous intent. Cao Ang was definitely a formidable opponent. “I’m at the fourth level of the Body Tempering Realm!” Although Cao Ang wasn’t blocking the stairwell, it was highly unrealistic for Xia Ye to try to escape while carrying the bronze treasure chest. “I’m one stage higher than you!” Cao Ang laughed: “Trying to make me underestimate you? Drop those petty tricks. Even if you were a lowly first-stage minion, I’d still give it my all.” “Hah!” Seeing that his verbal taunts were useless, Xia Ye cut the nonsense short. He suddenly surged forward, lunging at Cao Ang to test his opponent’s strength. Whoosh! He swung his curved sword. Cao Ang didn’t block; instead, he gripped his sword with both hands and struck back with all his might. Whoosh! The bronze longsword, accompanied by a gust of wind, collided with the curved sword. Clang! Sparks flew, and the ringing sound of bronze echoed. Cao Ang smiled confidently, stepped forward with his right foot, and turned the tables, his long sword whirling into a whirlwind of blades as he launched a killing strike at Xia Ye. Clang! The deafening echoes shook his eardrums. Song Guo held a stone hammer, ready to come to his aid at any moment. “I found you guys yesterday afternoon!” While attacking, Cao Ang spoke with ease, putting psychological pressure on Xia Ye: “If I hadn’t realized you could dig up treasures, I would’ve killed you long ago.” Xia Ye’s gaze was fearless, and he deliberately began to pant heavily. “Tsk, we all thought you were a one-eyed man, but who would’ve thought your left eye had such magical powers!” Cao Ang was amazed—he truly hadn’t expected this. When he’d followed the footprints to find Xia Ye yesterday, he’d planned to observe him for a moment before killing him, but who would’ve thought he’d witness the moment Xia Ye removed his eye patch to search for treasures? Knife coins, Genki Stones, jewelry—watching Xia Ye and the little girl continuously unearth treasures left Cao Ang in awe. His eight-person team had been here for a full seven days, yet their haul didn’t even match what these two had gathered in a single afternoon. “Is that the power of your clan?” Cao Ang asked in puzzlement. In the Era of Vital Energy, every surname represents a totem and embodies a specific power—this is the power of the clan. It gradually manifests as clan members grow, reaching its full expression only upon reaching the Hun Yuan Realm. The Cao clan’s revered and worshipped totem was the Jianmu Tongque, and their clan power was “The sun rises from Tanggu, spanning the Eight Desolations.” Cao Ang had only just begun to sense a faint trace of it, so he was still unable to harness his clan power. “Take a guess!” Xia Ye snorted coldly. The Xia clan’s totem was the “Mystic Bird Greeting the Sun,” and their clan power was “Flowing Gold Like Fire, Conquering East and West.” If Cao Ang had known that Xia Ye had undergone a blood ritual presided over by the Grand Shaman of the State of Zhao—and that his bloodline had been sacrificed—he wouldn’t have guessed that. After all, Xia Ye would never be able to activate his clan power in this lifetime. Still, he didn’t know what was going on with his left eye either. Those nine orbs of light had all been born as a result of the blood ritual. In fact, in Xia Ye’s view, clan power was simply the result of natural evolution—primordial energy had influenced his genes, which in turn manifested through his bloodline. “You won’t tell me? That’s fine!” Cao Ang wasn’t in a hurry. He gave a carefree smile, then suddenly spread his arms and arched his body like a full crescent moon. Immediately, he unleashed a burst of power, delivering a heavy slash. The moment Xia Ye saw Cao Ang’s stance, he knew a powerful move was coming. He didn’t want to take it head-on, but the long-faced man was incredibly fast; with a powerful stride, he was already upon him. “Where do you think you’re running?” Cao Ang roared with laughter. Whoosh! The bronze longsword sliced through the air, whipping up dust from the floor, and the resulting wind pressure caused the torches more than twenty meters away to sway violently. Xia Ye gritted his teeth, raised his sword, and parried! Clang! The sharp bronze sword sliced directly into the curved blade, followed by a piercing screech as sparks flew everywhere. Taking advantage of that split-second delay, Xia Ye decisively dropped his sword, took a step back, and created some distance. Clang! Crafted by the Xia clan’s master blacksmith, Xia Jia, the Nepalese scimitar—which Xia Ye hadn’t even had time to warm in his hand—snapped in two. “What?!” Song Guo gasped in surprise. Her big brother’s bronze scimitar was a masterpiece—she’d used it before, and it was exceptionally well-crafted—yet it had actually been severed? “Haha!” Cao Ang didn’t pursue his attack; he just stood there laughing heartily. This feeling of controlling the entire situation was simply fantastic. Xia Ye drew the bronze “Four Seasons Song” from his lower back with a backhand motion, his gaze turning slightly cold. “That curved sword is well-crafted!” Cao Ang curled his lip. “When my Tai’a severed it, I actually felt a slight resistance. If it had been a stone knife, it would’ve been as easy as cutting through tofu!” “Are you showing off?” Song Guo was taken aback, then snapped back, clearly annoyed. “Yes!” Cao Ang raised the long sword in his hand: “The legendary Tai’a sword, forged by Ouyezi. A thousand years ago, it was renowned on the Mainland. I found it among the ruins of Fengjing.” “Tai’a? Ouyezi? You’re kidding, right?” Xia Ye’s mouth twitched slightly; perhaps it was just a case of mistaken identity. “Big brother, watch out!” Song Guo bared her teeth, staring at Tai’a. The sword was three fingers wide and five chi long, with a straight blade engraved with intricate, mysterious patterns; its entire surface shimmered with a dark golden glow. In this dim Underground Palace, illuminated only by a single torch, the Tai’a stood out all the more strikingly, as if it were the sun about to rise. “It is said that this is a sword of might—without the Way of Heaven and Earth, and without the majesty of the Human Emperor, it cannot be wielded!” Cao Ang ran his hand along the blade, his gaze mesmerized. “Hmm, I’ve heard it has existed in the world since time immemorial, composed of nine streams of sword energy. Ou Yezhi didn’t actually forge it—he merely gathered those nine streams of sword energy together!” Xiao Song Guo explained rapidly; even a young child had heard of Tai’a’s legendary fame. “So what?” Xia Ye snorted coldly, mulling over his tactics. Besides, he noticed that Cao Ang didn’t seem to harbor much intent to kill. “Admit defeat!” Cao Ang pointed his long sword at Xia Ye: “Become my servant, and I’ll spare your life!” “I see!” Xia Ye finally understood—this guy wanted to use his eyes to scout the wilderness for him. “Another bronze sword? I have to admit, you’re well-equipped. Anyone else who ran into you would definitely come out worse off—but unfortunately for you, you ran into me!” Cao Ang chuckled derisively, his gaze falling on Si Jige with a look of utter disdain: “I have the Tai’a—it can shatter ten thousand swords!” “Who said I only have a sword?” Xia Ye smirked, suddenly raised the bronze dagger, clamped it between his teeth, and then swiftly pulled the *Great Wasteland Sutra of Ten Thousand Spirits* from where it hung at his waist. He yanked it with both hands! Whoosh! The scroll unfurled. Within the rows of vertical columns, the patterns were dim and gray—until it unfolded to the section on the Undead Hero, where a faint white light shimmered, and a chill seemed to emanate from it. Xia Ye extended his thumb and casually drew it across the blade; crimson blood immediately gushed forth, which he smeared over the “Undead Hero” entry. The Beginning of Chaos, All Things Return to the Source! As heaven and earth first parted, the spiritual flame burst forth! Boom! A fist-sized, pale white orb shot out from the scroll, landing three meters in front of Xia Ye. A blinding flash followed, and when it faded, an Undead Hero was kneeling on one knee, having answered the summons. Clang! The undead hero rose to his feet; his armor clanged lightly, producing the sound of clashing metal. “I wasn’t wrong after all—you really did find that secret treasure!” Cao Ang’s gaze shifted—first from astonishment, then from the hero to Xia Ye’s face, where it turned to relief and curiosity, mixed with a hint of prescient superiority. Finally, his gaze settled on the one-chi-wide scroll, transforming into an intense sense of possessiveness. Xia Ye took a deep breath to steady his emotions, preparing for battle. “Haha, a once-fearsome undead hero, now fighting bare-handed—it’s absolutely ridiculous!” Cao Ang couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just kill you, and it’ll be mine, right?” Xia Ye didn’t know how long the Undead Hero would remain summoned, so he immediately ordered it to launch an attack. “Come on, then!” Cao Ang roared and brandished his sword to meet the enemy. Clang! The iron fist and the sword blade clashed repeatedly, sending sparks and frost flying. The sword’s wind howled through the Underground Palace; to avoid detection by others, both men instinctively kept their voices as quiet as possible. “If only we were fighting at full strength!” Xia Ye felt a bit disappointed; the undead hero was somewhat weak. According to the explanation in the General Preamble of the Great Wasteland Scripture of Ten Thousand Spirits, the combat power of a spirit-summoned minion remains frozen at the moment of its death. Xia Ye was dissatisfied, but Cao Ang dared not let his guard down. Though the Tai’a was razor-sharp, even a wound as deep as a thumb could not cause the Undead Hero—an undead creature—any discomfort; it didn’t even feel pain. It was like a tireless puppet, relentlessly launching attack after attack. “I’ll be worn down to death!” Cao Ang had extensive combat experience; in just one minute, he had assessed the situation. Even if he fought desperately to kill the Undead Hero, he would still have to face a fully restored Xia Ye. If he focused entirely on defense and let the battle drag on, there was an eighty to ninety percent chance he wouldn’t be able to outlast it. That left only one option: to brace himself against the Undead Hero and kill Xia Ye. Capture him alive? Don’t even think about it. “Song Guo, get up on the steps!” Xia Ye ordered, “You must keep a distance of 1 from that guy.” Before Cao Ang could even move, he heard Xia Ye’s words and immediately cursed under his breath. He’d intended to attack the little girl to force Xia Ye to close in and intercept him, but who knew Xia Ye had anticipated his move. “Tough opponent!” Cao Ang stopped pressing his attack and instead conserved his strength, parrying while looking for an opening to strike Xia Ye. But the kid’s footwork was incredibly nimble, making the Undead Hero seem like a massive mountain, constantly blocking the path between them. At that moment, Cao Ang thought once again of Cao Mu and Cao Bing. Those two had died without cause—though, of course, if he hadn’t been one rank higher than this half-blind man, he likely would’ve been finished long ago. The situation had reached a stalemate. It had to be said that Cao Ang, at the fifth rank of the Body Tempering Realm, possessed formidable combat skills, as well as sharp wits and courage—no wonder he had managed to obtain the Tai’a. Song Guo stood on the steps, her crossbow aimed at Cao Ang, and suddenly shouted, “Watch out for the arrow!” Cao Ang stumbled. The Undead Hero’s Iron Fist struck with a thunderous blow. Boom! “My chance!” Xia Ye darted forward, thrusting the Song of the Four Seasons with lightning speed. “I’ve been waiting for you!” Cao Ang flashed a smug smile of tactical triumph, forcefully twisting his body to regain his balance. Paying no heed to the Undead Hero at his side, he flicked his sword upward. Clink! Xia Ye’s blade was deflected. Cao Ang took a step forward and channeled his strength into both hands. Gale Slash! Whoosh! The Tai’a, swift as a hurricane, slashed toward Xia Ye’s neck. In that instant, a cold wind swept across his face, and every hair on Xia Ye’s body stood on end. Cao Ang seized that single opportunity. “Ah!” Song Guo cried out in alarm. She wanted to shoot an arrow, but was afraid of accidentally hurting Xia Ye—she was practically beside herself with anxiety. Xia Ye crouched, his left hand cupping the blade with all five fingers. “Ha! Even with a bronze sword, you can’t block my Tai’a!” Cao Ang sneered, as if he could already see Xia Ye’s sword snapping, his head rolling to the ground, and himself claiming the spoils of war. Clang! The two swords clashed, sending sparks flying. They flashed for a split second—and then Cao Ang’s smile froze, replaced by utter astonishment!