Chapter 118: Fated Encounter

"Fellow Daoist, please stay your steps!"

A chill ran down Ji Hao's spine. He hurriedly channeled his magic, merging his body completely into the bitter wind and wretched rain, dissolving into the hazy mist. However, the spiritual sense of the two young men behind him clung to him like maggots on a rotting bone, refusing to let go.

"Spiritual sense"—the ability of those who have attained success in the cultivation of the soul to project their soul power outward, unaffected by natural phenomena such as ordinary wind, rain, thunder, or lightning.

These two youths, like Ji Hao, had cultivated a unique mystical technique, condensing a power of spiritual sense that the Great Magi of the Southern Wasteland could never possess. Their cultivation levels were higher than Ji Hao's; while his evasion technique was marvelous, the gap in raw strength was too vast, making it impossible to shake off their lock.

A hazy figure flickered, crossing nearly ten miles in an instant.

A fist-sized, translucent orb, trailing a faint white glow, descended from the high sky and slammed viciously toward Ji Hao's back.

The armor on Ji Hao’s body flared with sudden brilliance. Thirty-six clear lotus blossoms spiraled into existence, blocking the path of the white orb. As the orb collided with the lotuses, there was no sound; one by one, the lotuses dimmed and faded until the orb struck Ji Hao’s back with full force.

His armor shook violently, the clear light trembling intensely.

This time, the force contained within the orb could not be entirely dissipated by the armor. A remnant of that overwhelming, magnificent power surged into Ji Hao’s body. He felt his spine groan under the unbearable pressure, and he could clearly sense several vertebrae cracking.

The violent force rattled his internal organs. A surge of heat flooded Ji Hao’s chest, and he spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with streaks of golden-red flame. The spray of blood and fire hit the ground with a hiss, melting a crater over ten feet wide into the earth.

Rolling heat surged into the sky, and the gale-driven rain poured into the pit, where molten rock and water clashed, sending up clouds of steam.

Ji Hao let out a low, resonant roar. The Nine-Word Mantra—*Lin, Bing, Dou, Zhe, Jie, Zhen, Lie, Qian, Xing*—flowed out in succession. A brilliant radiance erupted from within him, and the vital energy of heaven and earth, along with all the mysterious powers of the universe, poured into his body. He became as translucent and crystalline as a precious gem, not a single drop of energy leaking out.

The external force, which should have caused injuries ten times more severe, was like floodwater trapped by a dam. After churning within him, it was channeled through a path Ji Hao had opened, forced out through his mouth.

A beam of white light shot out for several miles, shattering and pulverizing every tree in its path, before finally striking a small mountain peak and obliterating it entirely.

The injuries within his body were stabilized at that very moment. As the vital energy of heaven and earth surged in, his innate, powerful life force was triggered, and his wounds began to heal rapidly. A series of "clicks" echoed from his spine; the agonizing pain was swiftly enveloped by a cool sensation, and the suffering dissipated.

With a loud roar, Ji Hao cast a glance back at the two youths, etching their faces firmly into his mind. Suddenly, a pair of wings formed from flames spread behind him. Dozens of meridians within his body, corresponding to the "Flowing Light Fire Wings" technique, burned fiercely. Massive amounts of natural energy were devoured and burned by these meridians, granting Ji Hao a powerful boost in momentum.

Crow-Grandpa let out an excited cry. Amidst his "caws," two black feathers flew from his body and landed lightly on Ji Hao’s calves. The black feathers ignited in mid-air, transforming into two small, twisted runes that adhered tightly to Ji Hao.

This was an auxiliary shamanic spell cast by Crow-Grandpa. With these two runes, Ji Hao’s speed would more than double for the next quarter of an hour.

"I thank you both for this generous gift today! I shall surely repay you handsomely in the future!" Ji Hao bellowed. His body turned into a thin streak of fire, tearing through the curtain of rain as he darted straight into the sky, leaving behind a trail of afterimages as he sped toward his destination.

The Flowing Light Fire Wings were incredibly fast, and when combined with the Nine-Word Mantra and the *Dan Scripture* flight techniques, his speed was nothing short of astonishing. Although the magical consumption was immense—limiting such high-speed flight to at most two quarter-hours—the speed at which Ji Hao was traveling now left the two youths feeling a sense of trepidation.

Even when they exerted their full power, they could not fly with such velocity!

With a hissing sound, countless raindrops landed on Ji Hao, only to be turned into steam by the intense heat. The two youths scrambled into the sky as if their backsides were on fire, stepping on wisps of flowing clouds to pursue him. However, it was clear that their speed was about thirty percent slower than his.

In ordinary circumstances, they were much faster than him, but after Crow-Grandpa sacrificed two feathers to empower Ji Hao, he had surpassed them. The two youths cursed incessantly, yet their eyes glinted with constant greed, the covetous look on their faces growing more intense.

That white orb was a life-saving treasure bestowed upon the senior brother by their master. He had once tested it, using the orb to crush a dragon whose cultivation was higher than his own, which showed just how lethal the treasure was.

For such a formidable treasure to merely cause Ji Hao to spit a mouthful of blood, it was evident that the armor he wore was far superior to the orb—especially considering the gap in strength between Ji Hao and themselves.

"Fellow Daoist, please stay your steps. The armor you wear is destined to be mine; you cannot escape," the two youths laughed in unison. The senior brother bit the tip of his tongue and sprayed a mouthful of essence blood onto the white orb. The orb emitted a dazzling light that enveloped his body, increasing his speed by fifty percent as he surged forward to catch up to Ji Hao.

Having sprayed the essence blood, the senior brother’s face turned deathly pale; clearly, his loss of vital energy was severe.

Yet, he could not hide the smile on his face. He even found time to look back triumphantly at his enraged junior brother—once he caught up, the armor would belong solely to him, and his junior brother would have no claim to it at all.

Ji Hao frowned. The malevolent aura behind him grew thicker. The senior brother’s long brows arched, a murderous intent lingering between them—the intent to kill and seize the treasure was glaringly obvious. Even worse, having expended his life essence to close the gap, Ji Hao realized he might not be able to outrun him after all.

Just then, Ji Hao whipped around a small mountain foot. As he cleared a cliff that stood like a screen, another youth holding a short flute and dressed in the same coarse white hempen robes emerged, stepping on a wisp of water-cloud to block his path.

Upon seeing Ji Hao, the youth laughed loudly: "Fellow Daoist, the great treasure you carry is destined for me. Please, stay your steps for a moment."

The youth waved his short flute, and three palm-sized, gleaming crescent blades shot out, transforming into three streaks of cold light that slashed down toward Ji Hao’s head.

Ji Hao was startled, and he blurted out instinctively: "Fly... flying daggers?"