Chapter 150: Effortless Defense and the One Who Strikes from the Shadows

Just as the punch was about to land on Ou Xiaolu’s face, ready to paint it in a myriad of colors, a spear suddenly appeared behind the red-haired woman.

If that punch had continued, the spear would have pierced the red-haired woman through and through, chilling her to the bone. To protect herself, she had no choice but to turn back and strike the spear, forcing it aside.

Turning around again, she saw that Ou Xiaolu had already retreated to the edge of the bonfire without her noticing. His sword swept upward from below, aiming straight for the red-haired woman’s throat.

The red-haired woman stepped back a few paces, just as the white-haired woman stepped forward to confront Ou Xiaolu. Unlike the red-haired woman who fought with bare fists, the white-haired woman wielded an ice-made longsword. Though it appeared to be crafted from ordinary water, it successfully parried Ou Xiaolu’s strike.

Faced with such an opponent, Ou Xiaolu was taken aback. “A change of opponents,” he muttered.

Emilia, who was already locked in fierce combat with the red-haired woman, shouted loudly, “No problem. This one’s easier to deal with.”

Seeing someone underestimate her, the red-haired woman’s anger flared. Her fists, glowing with molten magma, became even more dazzling as each punch aimed squarely at Emilia’s face.

But no matter how fiercely she struck, Emilia simply raised her round shield each time, forcing the red-haired woman to retreat step by step.

What was more aggravating was the annoying power embedded in that shield. Every strike dulled the brightness of the red-haired woman’s fists significantly, and a layer of white frost even began to form on her skin.

This force was far stronger than that of the white-haired woman, leading the red-haired woman to suspect a traitor in their midst—how else could their intelligence have been so easily intercepted?

The man sharing this suspicion fared no better. Standing before two dazzling young women, his own performance was unimpressive. Though he could manipulate gravity and summoned countless hidden weapons, he could not surpass someone capable of wearing a skirt.

He had originally hoped to eliminate Aro and prove his status with a tiger’s pelt. But unexpectedly, his opponent was not a tiger but a ghost—a powerful, ancient specter. This ghost appeared to be composed of countless paper ashes, its form invisible and intangible.

What troubled the man most was the ghost’s method of attack: targeting the soul. With ordinary ghosts, soul attacks might merely frighten people away, but the soul assault of a ghost king was far more terrifying—they could capture the souls of the living.

Of course, extracting a living soul consumed immense energy, so they rarely used this power directly. Instead, they employed subtler methods, like hiding their attack within sound—a legendary banshee’s wail.

The ghost king also wielded this technique. Upon approaching the man, it opened its mouth wide.

The man, thinking the ghost king intended to bite him, summoned numerous stones around himself to block the strike.

But when the ghost king emitted a barely audible scream, the man’s ears and eyes began to bleed profusely, clearly overwhelmed by the piercing wail.

Most critically, the stones he had lifted with his power all crashed to the ground, nullifying his previous display of bravado.

Seizing this opportunity, the ghost king thrust its hands forward, aiming to seize the man’s neck.

The man, a seasoned fighter, rolled on the spot to escape the ghost king’s grasp.

However, his roll brought him directly in front of Emilia, who had been repeatedly striking the red-haired woman with her round shield. Seizing the moment, Emilia reversed her grip and drove a spear glowing with aurora downward.

The man had not anticipated Emilia’s sudden strike. The red-haired woman, even if she wished to intervene, was too late to stop it. Emilia’s spear pierced through the man’s head completely.

With a flick of her wrist, Emilia lifted the man’s corpse with the spear and hurled it toward the red-haired woman.

Knowing she could not afford mercy, the red-haired woman clasped her fists at her chest, drawing forth a fiery line of molten lava. The flying corpse was sliced in two, and the fiery line lunged toward Emilia.

At that moment, the red-haired woman felt a sharp pain in her back. A longsword pierced through her heart from behind. Turning just in time, she saw Ou Xiaolu standing there, electricity crackling around him.

As for Ou Xiaolu’s original opponent, the white-haired woman, she was now under assault by the ghost king. Though the ghost king might not resist fire or lightning, ice was not within its weaknesses, so it easily absorbed all of the white-haired woman’s attacks.

Seeing her two comrades slain, the white-haired woman was overwhelmed with fear. She was no professional warrior, only someone with extraordinary powers who fancied herself superior.

Her reaction to her companions being slaughtered like chickens was no different from an ordinary person’s.

She screamed wildly, swinging her ice-formed longsword to cut down anyone who approached. But the ghost king, lacking a physical body, was untouchable. No matter how she slashed, she could not harm it, only wasting her strength.

Ou Xiaolu flashed forward—not using any special abilities like Purple Thunder Escape, just basic agility—and arrived behind the white-haired woman.

She was too busy hacking at invisible foes to notice him moving behind her. Before she could turn, Ou Xiaolu’s sword rose and fell, severing her head cleanly.

Stepping beyond the spray of her blood, Ou Xiaolu glanced around the scene. “They don’t have much fighting strength at all. How did they manage to appear so formidable? Where’s Aro? He should have finished his battle by now.”

Emilia sheathed her weapon and looked around, shaking her head decisively. “I haven’t seen Aro. But logically... watch out!”

As Emilia shouted, a fully metallic spear flew from afar, pinning Ou Xiaolu to the ground.

All of Ou Xiaolu’s defenses, including his Purple Silk Garment, were useless. The purple aura flickered briefly before being shattered by the spear’s brilliance. Ou Xiaolu didn’t even have time to cry out.

Then, atop the spear appeared a figure. He looked like an ordinary middle-aged man, dressed in a white shirt. Standing on the spear with confidence, he raised his head arrogantly.

“Such feeble defenses to stop my God-Slaying Spear’s attack—you think too much. Huh? Oh no...”