Chapter 47: Nine Manifestations Divine Dragon

Chapter 47: Nine Manifestations Divine Dragon

As Ji Bingyan pondered how to politely decline the King of Kucha’s plea for him to stay, Li Chaofeng suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him back half a step.

A deafening tear split the air beside them as the tent fabric ripped open. Ji Bingyan’s expression hardened, his hand flashing to the judge’s brush at his waist.

Li Chaofeng simultaneously drew his soft golden whip, lashing backward with a technique called “Seven-Slaughter Deathbringer.” The whip’s tip struck a pitch-black iron hand—attached to a hulking figure with blazing golden eyes.

“Black Ape, Sun Kong!”

The ape’s companion was none other than Du Huan, the “Merciless Assassin,” who had doubled back to ambush them.

Sun Kong lunged at Li Chaofeng while Du Huan’s poison-coated iron rings hurtled toward Ji Bingyan’s face.

The golden whip sliced through the air, splitting into seven radiant trails. Recognizing the weapon’s form—a golden dragon—Sun Kong narrowed his eyes, instantly wary.

“Nine Manifestations Divine Dragon Fear Lament,” he muttered.

Before the words left his mouth, the whip coiled like a serpent, evading Sun Kong’s iron hand. The dragon’s “tongue”—the whip’s tip—aimed straight for his Yunmen acupoint. Sun Kong barely twisted aside, staggering backward to avoid the strike.

The Nine Manifestations Divine Dragon’s techniques were lethal: its gaping maw could swallow blades whole, its eyes fired explosive projectiles, and its mouth could launch thirteen Ziwu Heart-Seeking Nails—coated with paralyzing venom. Even its scales could detach and fly like shrapnel. Sun Kong had no intention of testing his luck against such a weapon.

As the ape retreated, the golden whip halted its pursuit. With a sharp crack, it reversed direction, unleashing “Ten-Thousand-Mile Sandstorm.” The whip’s shadow carved a golden arc through the air, its dragon head dissolving into countless stars that rained down on both Sun Kong and Du Huan.

Meanwhile, Ji Bingyan’s judge’s brush clashed with Du Huan’s rings. Li Chaofeng’s whip arced over Ji Bingyan’s head, forming a protective golden canopy. Amid the swirling strikes, the dragon’s tongue reappeared, targeting Du Huan’s Tiantu acupoint.

Du Huan hadn’t anticipated their weapons working in tandem. As he leaned back to dodge the whip, Ji Bingyan’s brush struck his waist, paralyzing his meridians. The assassin crumpled without a sound.

Ji Bingyan never hesitated to kill—especially when the target was trying to kill him.

Seeing Li Chaofeng withdraw his whip to flank Du Huan, Sun Kong seized the opening. His iron hand surged forward, only to meet a colossal palm mid-air—Ji Bingyan’s Flower Transplanting Wood Grafting technique.

“Come then!” Sun Kong roared, shifting his fist into a claw to tear through the palm. But the moment their forces collided, the palm’s energy shifted, siphoning his true qi. The force yanked his own claw toward his chest.

Sun Kong, though skilled, barely neutralized the technique. He staggered backward, cursing under his breath.

Li Chaofeng hadn’t expected the two assassins to wait until Hu Tiehua was lured away with a Decoy Tiger Mountain Strategy, then ambush them the moment the King of Kucha tried to persuade them to stay.

Are they mad?

“Assassins! There are assassins!”

The King of Kucha hit the ground as his queen yanked him aside, his panicked screams echoing. Realizing too late what had happened, he turned to see two sword beams slicing through the space where he’d stood moments ago.

The Wu Brothers advanced, their blades flashing. They’d nearly succeeded—if not for the queen’s frantic shove, the king’s head would’ve already rolled.

Still, they pressed on. Wu Qingtian’s sword erupted into the Sixty-Four Hands Dragon Roam Sword, a storm of silver light engulfing the king.

But a pipa—a lute—whirred past Wu Qingtian, deflecting his blade with a sharp ding. A graceful figure spun into place, shielding the king.

Wu Baiyun eyed the iron lute warily. “That’s no ordinary instrument. This girl’s no pushover.”

He turned, spotting Sun Kong blocking Ji Bingyan and Li Chaofeng at the tent entrance. Du Huan’s corpse lay motionless. His face darkened.

Ji Bingyan, judge’s brush in hand, glared at Sun Kong. “Black Ape Sun Kong?”

Sun Kong, still wary of Li Chaofeng’s Ghost-Seeing Grief-Bringer whip technique, froze. “You’re Ji Bingyan?!”

He paused, realization dawning. “The one outside must be Hu Tiehua!”

Ji Bingyan nodded. “Didn’t expect to meet as enemies after all these years.”

Sun Kong knew Ji Bingyan well—only because Chu Liuxiang had spared him three times. Scanning the room, his voice trembled slightly. “Is… is that guy here too?”

Ji Bingyan blinked, then shook his head. “He was here yesterday. Not today.”

Sun Kong exhaled, relief washing over him. Chu Liuxiang’s mercy had come at a price—three times spared, three times as an enemy.

“Since he’s not here,” Sun Kong smirked, “I’ll do you a favor and spare your life.”

Ji Bingyan’s face tightened. “If I were you, I’d worry about escaping—not playing hero.”

Sun Kong barked a laugh. “True, the three of us couldn’t take you. But we’re not alone.”

Ji Bingyan arched a brow. “You think Hu Tiehua can’t handle the two outside?”

Sun Kong sighed. “If I’d known the ‘Flower and Chicken’ in the plan were you two, I’d never have agreed to strike now.”

Ji Bingyan stepped closer. “Then why pretend I need your mercy?”

Sun Kong gestured to the Wu Brothers, their smirks fading. “Because we’re seven strong, not six. The seventh is on his way—stronger than all of us combined.”

Wu Baiyun scoffed. “If you’d stuck to the plan, those two would’ve left on their own. We wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Sun Kong’s jaw tightened. The seventh assassin’s absence had forced their hand. But the game wasn’t over yet.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end