Chapter 86: The Slaying of the Dragon Witch (Part Two)

Amid the dense flurry of fists, Chen Xian stood unmoving, as steady as a mountain. Scarlet vortices appeared all over his body, swirling slowly, absorbing the energy from the One-Eyed Crone’s attacks.

With his eyes closed, Chen Xian could clearly see the mysterious, monstrous tree in his mind becoming more solid, turning crimson. He shook his head and sighed softly, “Still too weak. Hoping to use the enemy’s attacks to solidify the monstrous tree and the precious fruit—it's still not enough.”

More than ten minutes passed.

The One-Eyed Crone retreated a hundred meters with a series of sharp movements, gazing at the young man before her in terror. Chen Xian stood there, eyes closed and still, faint golden fist-shadows floating around him, unable to injure him in the slightest.

The Crone had attacked him no less than a thousand times, but now she was utterly exhausted.

“Your attacks are powerless now. It’s time to end this,” Chen Xian suddenly opened his eyes, divine light flashing, his words brooking no argument.

His hands moved along a mysterious path, seemingly simple yet full of profound meaning. With a mighty shout: “Azure Dragon Strike, from the Divine Dragon-Elephant Fist!”

As the words left his lips, Chen Xian punched toward his enemy.

A dragon’s roar seemed to echo through the air. A fist-shadow burst from his iron fist, surging toward the One-Eyed Crone, whose golden aura had already faded.

The fist-shadow seemed to tear the very air, whistling sharply.

The Crone instantly sensed its terror and tried to evade, but she was helpless. The fist-shadow exuded a dreadful pressure, sealing off all avenues of retreat, pinning her in place as if a mountain itself pressed down upon her, leaving no escape.

In her single eye, the fist-shadow expanded rapidly, blotting out the world.

In an instant, it struck her.

A deafening explosion. A blood-curdling scream—like the very end of life—echoed out, and the giantess-like Crone vanished.

Chen Xian gazed ahead: dust and shattered concrete filled the air, and a massive crater appeared in the cement floor, spiderwebbed with countless cracks.

He stepped forward and saw the Crone’s corpse lying at the pit’s bottom, her body a mass of blood and mangled flesh, unrecognizable as human, utterly lifeless.

The One-Eyed Crone was dead.

Had he not wanted to absorb the energy from her attacks to nourish the monstrous tree, he would have killed her with a single blow long ago.

Chen Xian’s eyes were cold as he raised his hand. The silver storage ring on his little finger glimmered, conjuring a swirling vortex that spun slowly, exuding a terrifying pull.

The Crone’s corpse floated upward, drawn toward the ring.

Just then, Chen Xian suddenly sensed a cold, sinister wisp of energy escaping from her body. He tried to pursue it, but it vanished in a blink, leaving no trace behind.

He let it go, and the corpse was finally absorbed into the ring.

He intended to refine the Crone’s body with the Supreme Chaos Technique when he had time, which should greatly increase his spiritual energy.

After all, the Crone's martial and spiritual cultivation were formidable—she was a top-notch existence below the grandmaster level.

Chen Xian glanced at the ring, now appearing ordinary again, then strode toward the factory’s exit.

...

Let us look toward the borders of the T Nation, more than two hundred kilometers west of its second-largest city, XM. Amid endless mountains stood a solitary temple built from stacked stones, nestled halfway up a mountainside, blending harmoniously with ancient trees and the wilds beyond.

The stones of the temple were mottled and overgrown with moss, exuding a sense of profound antiquity—this place had clearly stood for ages.

Before the temple, a humble dirt path, overrun with weeds, showed that few ever came to offer incense to the gods here.

Thud, thud, thud.

From within came the intermittent sound of a wooden fish being struck, making the temple seem all the more desolate and lonely under the chill of the moon.

Peering inside...

A statue stood within, but unlike the deities and Buddhas found in most temples, this one depicted a snow-white tiger. In the flickering lamplight, the statue seemed almost alive.

On the dusty stone table before it, alongside an incense burner, lay several stone beads carved with the faces of malevolent spirits.

In front of the table sat a small, thin figure, cross-legged, tapping at a battered wooden fish—the source of the earlier sound.

Suddenly, a mournful wind swept through, making the tiny flame atop the oil lamp sway wildly, nearly extinguishing it.

Crack!

One of the stone beads on the table, carved with an evil spirit, shattered into pieces.

In a flash, the small figure rose, reaching out a tiny hand to grasp the fragments.

“...Avenge me...”

A strange, ancient voice emanated from the shattered bead.

The small figure stood silently, clutching the fragments, as if turned to stone. After a long pause, he finally sighed softly, “Little White, have the young tigers guard the temple and the precious herbs. We must travel far from here.”

Suddenly, the white tiger statue opened its crimson jaws and let out a thunderous roar.

The tiger’s cry shook the ancient trees and sent leaves tumbling; even the night birds among the mountains fell silent.

Soon, figures emerged from the dense forest—tigers, striped and pure white, gathering around the temple.

Then, two figures left the temple and headed down the mountain, striding dozens of meters with each step, moonlight casting them as spectral shapes moving through the night.

...

After leaving the ruined factory, Chen Xian’s phone rang.

He glanced at it—Fang Jing was calling. He answered, but before he could speak, her anxious voice came through: “Hello, Chen Xian, where are you?”

“Fang Jing, what’s wrong?” Chen Xian asked, puzzled.

By all logic, with the powerful One-Eyed Crone dealt with, handling the remaining mercenaries should be much easier. Moreover, the police had called in local military support. Though the mercenaries were strong, they would be no match for the Hualong Federation’s troops.

“Chen Xian, you should come to the H City Police Headquarters,” Fang Jing said. “I can’t explain over the phone. Just come and see for yourself. Tell me your location—I’ll come pick you up.”

“I’m at the outskirts, at XXX,” Chen Xian replied.

“Wait there, I’ll be there soon.” Fang Jing hung up.

A dozen minutes later, a blue-and-white police car arrived, headlights blazing. From the window, a charming, oval face appeared—it was Fang Jing. She called out, “Get in, quickly.”

Chen Xian nodded, opened the passenger door, and got in. “What’s happened at headquarters?”

As she turned the car around, Fang Jing replied, “All the leaders and officers in the command center...”