DD Black White [313-314] (Patreon)

Chapter 313: Tang Wutong vs. Wang Qiu'er

After drawing the spear, that figure didn't pause for a heartbeat. She flipped the spear around, turning into a streak of golden lightning and shot after the retreating Vita.

The assault was fierce and the follow-up seamless—clearly, she had no intention of catching up or wasting breath.

"How heartless, Durandal~"

Vita threaded through the dense flurry of spear shadows. Each movement landed precisely where it needed to be, skirting the holy lance's lethal edge by a hair. As her skirt swirled, she even had the leisure to draw out her tone in a mock-pout.

"We only just met, and this is how you treat an 'old friend'?"

She didn't dare to catch that Black Abyss White Flower head-on—the weapon radiated the breath of life and death. The play had only just reached its true climax; she wasn't about to bow out early because of carelessness.

"I do not recall ever being your friend."

Durandal stood tall as a pine with the holy lance in hand. Her sky-blue eyes were bright as the heavens and sharp as a hawk. The spear tip never left Vita's silhouette. Her voice was severe and icy, without a ripple.

"And at this moment, we are enemies, beyond any doubt."

"Oo… how heartbreaking. Lady Durandal's words pierce poor little Vita's fragile heart like a blade~"

Vita clutched her chest in exaggerated pain. Her delicate brows knit, and she even forced a few crystalline tears from the corner of her eyes. With that aggrieved, on-the-verge-of-tears look, she seemed truly burdened by some immense grievance and betrayal.

The corner of Durandal's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly; the other's over-the-top acting made it hard to keep a straight face.

Lu Jingming's warning flashed through her mind—against a "bad woman" like Vita, who excelled at manipulating hearts and muddying the waters, the best method was to give her no chance to speak, bewitch, or stall.

Decision made, her aura surged again. The holy lance moved with a sudden rise in speed and power, shrouding Vita like a raging storm.

At the exact same moment Vita was fully entangled with Durandal—

Rip! BOOM!!!

A thunderclap split the sky without warning.

A katana wrapped in raging lightning, wreathed in crackling arcs that made one's scalp prickle, turned into a blade of thunder so dazzling it seemed able to cleave space itself. With unstoppable force, it hacked straight down at Niu Tian just as he was about to act.

Niu Tian's face changed drastically.

As a hundred-thousand-year soul beast in human form and a veteran of countless battles, combat instincts were etched into his bones.

Almost reflexively, his powerful Slowing Domain expanded from him like a bubble.

An invisible field of deceleration spread out, and the raging lightning blade's speed visibly dropped the moment it entered the zone.

Seizing the opening, Niu Tian roared. His thick right arm blasted forward.

Dominant azure lightning surged from his fist, rapidly coalescing into a massive, ferocious head of thunder that looked part dragon, part ox. With a soul-shaking roar, it opened its crackling jaws and bit fiercely into the slowed, terrifying blade of thunder.

"BOOOOM!!!"

Two torrents of raging lightning collided head-on. Blinding radiance erupted like a miniature sun, swelling outward.

Niu Tian felt an inconceivable, surging force flood up his arm. His blood churned; his massive body was hurled uncontrollably backward, smashing through several thick, ruined walls before he barely managed to halt, each step gouging deep footprints into the ground.

On the other side, Raiden Mei's figure clung like true lightning. The hundreds-of-meters-long arc of thunder she unleashed plowed a smoking, charred trench across the ground, pressing inexorably toward Niu Tian.

"Da Ming!"

Seeing this, Tai Tan's rugged face filled with shock and fury. He roared and was about to charge to Niu Tian's aid when the space in front of him twisted violently without warning, swamped and corroded by a dense, inky fog of death.

A pitch-black spear, as if forged from the deepest dark, lunged from the void like a viper, silent yet lightning-fast, thrusting straight for his heart.

Alarms blared in Tai Tan's mind; a chill shot from his soles to his crown.

In his haste, he could only cross his arms, guarding his chest with all his might.

"Squelch—!"

The dull, tooth-aching sound of flesh being torn rang out.

The black spear tip pierced his tough skin and muscle without resistance. Blood splattered.

Tai Tan's mountain-like body was smashed backward as if struck by an invisible colossal hammer, crashing into the earth with a heavy boom and kicking up a storm of dust.

"Apologies. Road closed."

A low, slightly magnetic voice came from the rift wreathed in black mist.

Lu Jingming stepped out of the void with Black Abyss in hand—a spear that seemed to devour all light. A faint, unsettling dark glow circled the tip, silently disintegrating and returning the fresh blood it had touched to primordial nothingness.

"It's you!"

Tang Wutong stared at the suddenly appearing Lu Jingming—who had injured Second Uncle Tai Tan in a single strike—and cried out before she could stop herself. Her pink-blue eyes were full of shock and disbelief.

Things were unfolding too fast for her to process.

The ecstatic surprise and deep confusion of suddenly seeing her mother; Vita being intercepted; her two father-like guardians ambushed in an instant… it all happened in a blink, leaving her reeling.

"Tang Wutong, is it."

Lu Jingming glanced at her. His gaze was calm and flat, as if looking at an irrelevant stranger. His tone betrayed no emotion, as though stating a foregone fact.

"Farewell."

He didn't give Tang Wutong any time to react. He lightly tapped the air with Black Abyss—

Hum!

Dozens of fist-sized, pitch-black orbs of pure deathly energy appeared out of thin air, then instantly transformed into beams of raven light at the limits of speed—like a rain of death—lancing toward Tai Tan, who had just clawed his way from the crater, grievously wounded.

After all, in his "script," after this, the "Tang Wutong" before him would no longer be Tang Wutong—she would become part of Wang Qiu'er.

Tang Wutong hadn't even parsed the meaning of that unprompted "farewell" when an extremely brilliant golden streak—carrying the twin auras of light and flame—shot at her face like a silent, lethal bolt.

She was no powerless vase. As the little princess of the Clear Sky Sect and a Shrek-tempered prodigy, her combat instincts fired instantly at the brink.

"Hum—!"

Dazzling blue-gold radiance erupted.

The Goddess of Light Butterfly martial soul manifested at once. A pair of magnificent, crystalline light-wings unfurled behind her, shedding motes of radiance.

Facing the deadly golden streak, Tang Wutong shouted. Her hands flashed, weaving two blades of condensed light into a tight, impermeable net, intercepting the incoming strike with everything she had.

"Clang—!!!"

The metallic screech was so sharp it seemed to rip eardrums.

Amid the fierce clash, the golden streak revealed its true form—a long spear of ancient, domineering design, its surface flowing with the luster of the sun.

The recoil sent the spear flying back—only to be caught, steady as a rock, by a golden-haired girl who had appeared without a sound.

The girl stood tall and breathtakingly beautiful, bearing a shocking resemblance to Tang Wutong.

But where Tang Wutong's features blended mischief and liveliness, the newcomer's brows carried a colder, keener edge—a drawn blade, all cutting intent.

The instant their eyes met, Tang Wutong's heart clenched for no reason.

From the depths of her soul, an indescribable thrum of resonance and dread seized her. A wild, absurd yet overpowering intuition surged up—like fate itself:

Between them, only one could live!

"Blame your lofty, scheming 'good father.'"

Wang Qiu'er's slender fingers tightened around the Golden Dragon Spear—a weapon that seemed born for her. Her gaze was as cold as a ten-thousand-year abyss, stripped of warmth, leaving only bone-deep resolve.

"From the moment we were born, it was fixed… only one of us could survive to wholeness."

From Lu Jingming, she had learned the whole truth—about her own state of existence, about the fragment of Tang Wutong's missing soul, about how Sea God Tang San, to seize the soul-beast fortune of the Star Dou Forest and the Auspicious Beast's unique bloodline and destiny power, had laid out a string of cold, selfish machinations.

In killing Tang Wutong to seize the other half of the soul fragment and become a complete, independent self, Wang Qiu'er felt no guilt or hesitation.

Though Tang Wutong herself might be innocent—ignorant of it all.

Chapter 314: Tang Wutong's Fury

Tang Wutong may be innocent, but the root of this tragedy and fate lay with her sanctimonious god-king father.

If Tang San hadn't schemed to forcibly fuse a fragment of Tang Wutong's soul with the Auspicious Beast, then the independent consciousness "Wang Qiu'er" would never have emerged, Tang Wutong wouldn't have lived incomplete, and the two wouldn't have been driven to today's death match where only one could remain.

"What nonsense are you spouting?!"

Tang Wutong's mood was a snarl of agitation and chaos.

Staring at that face so like her own yet entirely different, hearing those abrupt, every-word-a-knife accusations, she felt the fury and helplessness of being kept in the dark by those dearest—toyed with in the palm of their hands—surge over her.

Why did it seem everyone knew some earth-shattering secret, while she alone—blindfolded, ears plugged—lived inside a colossal lie?!

"You'll understand soon enough."

Wang Qiu'er stopped wasting breath.

The Golden Dragon Spear hummed low in her hands. At its tip, a piercing, all-cleaving golden light gathered; killing intent locked onto Tang Wutong as if tangible—clear sign she was done holding back and would end this by battle.

Words would never convince Tang Wutong—after all, they condemned her father.

"I don't understand your raving, but I, Tang Wutong, am no pushover."

Even a clay idol has some fire—let alone Tang Wutong, raised in the palm, a god-realm little hellion at heart.

Her face went cold; anger flashed in her eyes.

With a flip of her right hand, an enormous, pitch-black Clear Sky Hammer materialized in her pale palm.

Ancient runes along the haft lit with a deep, gloomy glow as surging soul power flooded in, releasing a mountain-heavy, overwhelming aura.

Anyone ambushed without cause and forced to listen to clouded slander against their father would lose their temper—let alone her.

CLANG—!!!!!

The black Clear Sky Hammer and the radiant Golden Dragon Spear slammed together again.

This time, it wasn't probing—it was an all-out clash.

Blinding gold and condensed black tore at each other like living energies, biting, devouring, annihilating.

The chain of metallic crashes rang like rolling thunder, ripping at eardrums and echoing over the vast ruins without end.

Neither the Golden Dragon-blooded, power-supreme Wang Qiu'er nor the gifted Tang Wutong bearing the Clear Sky Hammer looked the least bit delicate now.

Their slender arms, coiled with terrifying strength, tensed. Each step shook the earth. Each collision of weapons burst shockwaves that hurled broken bricks and shattered beams into the air.

The Clear Sky Hammer was famed as the world's foremost power-type tool spirit. The simulated Golden Dragon martial soul of Wang Qiu'er was called the "ancestor of strength," the very embodiment of raw might.

The two look-alike girls fought in mirror styles—both ferocious, domineering, fearless.

They grew fiercer as they fought. Their auras boiled higher and higher. The turbulent energies of their clashes pressed the air to a whining strain, warping it visibly.

"Little Sect Master!"

Not far away, the Clear Sky Sect disciples—still reeling—saw Tang Wutong attacked by the golden-haired girl. Eyes reddened, they started forward to help.

They had barely taken a few steps—

BOOM!!!!

A deafening blast went off before them without warning.

Flames, incandescent to white, bloomed like red lotuses, swallowing space ahead. A wave of terrible heat shoved the leading disciples off their feet like an invisible giant hand.

"Ugh—!"

Their screams were drowned under the explosion.

They fell like cut kites, smoking, clothes charred and torn, skin branded with horrible burns, hair still sparking. In an instant, they were gravely injured and out of the fight.

As the flames and rolling smoke thinned, a sleek, silver-white mech—lines smooth and dripping future-tech—stood like a silent reaper before them.

The armor gleamed with cold metallic luster. Emerald conduits pulsed at the joints. The thruster nozzles on its back still held a residue of red-hot glow. The whole machine radiated a chilling, keep-your-distance aura of killing.

"Apologies. Command confirmed. You… all must die."

A low, emotionless, vocoder-treated male voice echoed from within the mech, each word tolling like a death knell for the Clear Sky disciples.

"Form up! Together—scrap that tin can!"

The disciples here were all sect elites—none under Soul Emperor level, wills steeled.

After a heartbeat of shock, the remaining dozen-odd exchanged a look. Resolve hardened.

They erupted with soul power in unison.

Hum—!

Hefty Clear Sky Hammers wreathed in black soul force appeared in their hands. The terrifying pressure thickened the air.

Next moment, like moths to flame and with do-or-die resolve, they charged the silver mech from all directions, hammers howling.

Facing simultaneous attacks from multiple angles, the mech burst into near-white orange-red flame.

The heat was so intense the light bent around it. Charred earth underfoot glazed slick and oily in an instant.

The next second—

Whip-crack!

The silver figure moved.

She turned into a blistering streak, meeting the dozen disciples head-on.

Back thrusters roared at full, spitting scarlet fire. She broke past the limits of sight, leaving only blurred afterimages and tearing sonic booms.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—!!!!

A rapid string of explosions overlapped.

The disciples' heavy strikes hit nothing—couldn't even brush a sleeve.

Instead, it felt like being hit head-on by a supersonic mountain of steel.

"Pfft—!"

A chorus of bone-cracking snaps sounded.

Every disciple who rushed in spewed blood and flew back.

Their blood evaporated midair into a crimson mist under the heat.

Even their famed Clear Sky Hammers, paragons of sturdiness and force, couldn't bear the instant impact. Cracks spiderwebbed the heads, then—snap—shattered to dust.

Their bodies, like broken rag dolls, slammed into distant rubble and went still after a few rolls. No struggle, no breath—their lives snuffed in an instant.

Firefly stood silently, silver mech gleaming cold in the dancing light, like a freshly completed sculpture of slaughter.

Primary objective complete: she had cleared the small fry who might interfere with Wang Qiu'er and Tang Wutong's duel.

Her part seemed done, yet behind the visor, her gaze still drifted toward Lu Jingming and Wang Qiu'er. The frame micro-adjusted, ready to move and support at any time.

"Bastards—damn you all!!!"

Elsewhere, Tai Tan, fending off Lu Jingming's black spear, felt the familiar auras of sect disciples wink out one by one like candles in the wind.

The fire and grief pent in his chest erupted like a volcano.

He loosed a sky-rending bellow. His already massive muscles swelled like bellows, black hair bristling into steel needles. His skin shone with a rocklike sheen.

In a heartbeat, with an earth-shaking roar, he became a Giant Ape over a hundred meters tall—a moving mountain.

His enormous foot slammed down, making the ruins quake and split.

His lantern-sized eyes, burning with furious flame, locked onto Lu Jingming below—filled with primal savagery and killing intent.

Tai Tan's temper was volcanic at the best of times. Being ambushed by Lu Jingming had already enraged him.

Now, the enemy had butchered so many Clear Sky disciples before his eyes.

That atrocity finally lit the beast's full ferocity.

"ROAR—!!!"

The Giant Ape howled to the heavens. The shockwave spread like substance, rippling the air.

His mountain bulk surged forward. Each step made the earth heave. With the rawest, wildest momentum, he charged the small yet deadly figure below—Lu Jingming.