Chapter 27: The Chosen One

When Ke Bei saw Luo Ling in her form-fitting black battle attire, an indescribable feeling welled up within him. He recalled how, back when he took on a task from the system, he had happened to save her. Now, with the tables turned and himself at the end of his rope, it was her turn to rescue him.

Luo Ling’s figure remained as valiant as ever. Back then, Ke Bei had been just an ordinary man, someone who could only look up to her. Although he’d since tempered his body with the first two layers of the Dragon Elephant Prana, gaining a qualitative leap in strength, watching Luo Ling’s graceful stance as she faced the demonic man, he felt he still could only look up in awe.

Did she remember him?

Standing there, watching Luo Ling with her sword drawn, regal and heroic before him, Ke Bei could not help but wonder, sudden and out of place, if she still remembered who he was.

“Perhaps she forgot long ago. I am but a minor character, an utterly insignificant nobody, ha…”

For reasons he could not explain, a boundless bitterness suddenly swelled in Ke Bei’s heart.

“Are you alright?”

Just as Ke Bei closed his eyes, tormented by the sudden surge of bitterness, a voice as clear as spring water striking jade, light and ethereal beyond words, rang softly in his ear.

Luo Ling gazed at Ke Bei’s tightly shut eyes, a trace of worry flickering across her fair, jade-like face. She bent down slightly, her voice gentle as she asked.

That crystalline voice struck straight to Ke Bei’s heart; inexplicably, a surge of inexpressible joy rose within him. In that instant, it was as if endless strength coursed through his body.

He opened his eyes, gritted his teeth, and slowly stood up.

“I’m fine.”

The fierce pain in his chest brought beads of cold sweat to Ke Bei’s brow, his whole body trembling as if he might collapse at any moment. But when he looked up and saw the concern on Luo Ling’s beautiful face, he forced a shaky smile, baring his teeth and shaking his head.

“Hold on. Don’t fall before I get back,” Luo Ling said with a playful wink, her limpid eyes sparkling. Seeing Ke Bei’s solemn nod, she finally turned around, her long, shapely legs moving in a slow, deliberate stride toward the demonic man. With each step she took, the chill in her gaze deepened, the coldness in the air intensified. By the time she had taken ten steps and stood opposite her foe, the air for three meters around her seemed frozen by an inexplicable frost.

“You’re just a low-ranking deity. This isn’t Celestial Corpse Mountain. You don’t belong here,” Luo Ling said, her tone icy.

“But since you’re here, you’ll stay here forever.”

She slowly raised her arm. The thin, cicada-wing sword in her hand shone with a growing, bone-chilling white. As her gentle voice faded, her violet hair suddenly lifted as if caught by an unseen wind. An icy gale arose, freezing the very air. The demonic man shivered involuntarily as the bone-piercing cold seeped into him.

“No… It shouldn’t be possible for a newly Awakened to be this strong! But the aura she gives off is clearly that of someone who’s just stepped into Awakening. Could it be…”

The demonic man’s blood-red pupils contracted to the size of pinpricks.

“Could she be a Chosen One?”

The so-called “Chosen Ones” were what humans called gene mutants; the terms differed, but the meaning was the same. These people were born with the power to wield certain abilities—Luo Ling, for example, was able to command the power of ice from birth.

For these people, it was far harder to break through the third-tier strength limit and enter Awakening. But once they succeeded, their power far surpassed that of ordinary Awakened.

Awakening was the breaking away from the limits of the mundane. When the body reached its utmost limits, there was a chance the sea of consciousness would evolve. Once that transformation was complete, a person would gain a wondrous ability—its nature as varied as the stars.

Luo Ling looked calmly at the demonic man. She had only just stepped into the Awakening realm; her strength had soared, and her mastery over ice had increased tenfold.

With this sudden surge in power came a new surge of confidence. Before, encountering a low-ranking deity meant only escape, but now, it was different.

The transparent tip of her sword quivered, the blade’s white chill condensing into a flickering sword light, aimed straight at the demonic man. In an instant, a gust of cold wind rose from nowhere.

“Cold Moon!”

Her sword swung, tracing the path of an ice serpent, slicing through the air with a sharp whistle, striking mercilessly at the demonic man’s chest.

Watching the sword’s tip grow rapidly in his vision, the demonic man’s expression turned grave. He clenched his fist, muscles like steel wires rippling beneath his skin. Just as the frost-covered blade neared his chest, he moved, his iron-hard fist smashing down upon the blade. With a deft step, his body slid half a meter to the right, narrowly dodging Luo Ling’s fierce strike.

Her sword veered off course. Luo Ling’s expression shifted; she steadied herself with a trembling hand, retreating two steps.

Even after breaking into Awakening, her physical strength was not much greater than a third-tier enhancer. The deities were different: they possessed no sea of consciousness, could not wield supernatural powers, but their bodies were unimaginably strong, their power immense.

That clash left Luo Ling’s arm numb, and she had gained no advantage. The demonic man, however, did not come away unscathed; his fist was now coated in a thin layer of ice.

With a crack, he raised his other fist and smashed it against the frozen hand, shattering the ice. His expression darkened as he flexed his numbed hand, eyes fearful as he looked at the gleaming white sword in Luo Ling’s hand.

“Ice Shackles!”

Missing her mark did not surprise Luo Ling; if it were so easy to hit, the deities would not deserve their name. With a crisp shout, her jade hand flicked, five fingers splayed as five streaks of chilling white mist shot from her fingertips. The mist stretched with the wind, shrieking as it shot toward the demonic man like lightning.

In a flash, the biting white mist enveloped the demonic man, encasing him in an instant as if he were a human statue of ice. Only his blood-red eyes moved, the rest of his body frozen stiff.

“Wind Slash!”

Luo Ling gazed coldly at the frozen figure. Her sword, thin as a cicada’s wing, flashed to his side in a blink, a sweep of white light slicing toward five vital points on his body.

The demonic man’s blood-red eyes flickered wildly, veins writhing beneath his skin like worms.

With a thunderous roar, the instant Luo Ling’s sword touched his body, the demonic man shattered the ice with explosive force, leaping back in retreat.

Still, though he managed to evade three strikes, the remaining two pierced into his right arm and cheek.

The sword’s point struck his skin, and at the moment of contact, there was a metallic clang, sparks flying. The demonic man’s physical resilience defied belief.

Luo Ling was not surprised. She knew well the strength of the deities’ bodies. She looked coldly at the shallow wounds on his arm and face, her fair hand lifting the slender sword to point at him from a distance.

Just as the red in the demonic man’s eyes flared and he prepared to strike, a bone-chilling, earth-shaking wail erupted from the heart of Wushan City.

With a snort, the demonic man glanced toward the city’s center, stamped his foot, and his body became a blur, shooting off in a straight line toward the city’s heart.