Chapter Twenty-One: Severed at the Waist

Bang!

The cracks along the waist of the wooden whip automaton grew denser, while Chen Qi’s hand, which had rushed forward to meet the whip, was torn open by the automaton’s full-force strike, blood pouring from his wounds.

Driven to ferocity, Chen Qi grasped the wooden whip with his bleeding left hand and yanked hard.

With its waist damaged, the power of the wooden whip automaton diminished sharply, and Chen Qi managed to drag it close.

Clutching the wooden automaton, Chen Qi used its body to shield himself from the oncoming wooden halberds and axes, pressing himself so tightly against it that for a moment, they seemed like lovers locked in a desperate embrace.

The attacks from the other automatons were blocked by the body of the wooden whip automaton; for a time, their offensive faltered, wary of harming their own.

Realizing their attacks were stymied, the automatons began to circle around once more, preparing to surround him again.

But Chen Qi had already secured a precious moment to catch his breath. His gaze locked onto the wooden spear and sword automatons guarding the front, he brought his long blade down onto the waist of the wooden whip automaton like a blacksmith forging iron.

By now, half a stick of incense had burned away, and the cracks at the automaton’s waist were about to merge into one. Chen Qi clearly had no intention of stopping.

He smeared his bloodied left hand along the blade.

The long blade, triggered by the blood, glimmered with a sinister, enchanting sheen. With this beautiful, deadly glow, Chen Qi once again struck at the automaton’s waist.

At last, the fissures spread, and the upper body of the wooden whip automaton flew off.

Chen Qi exhaled a long breath, like a man after the act.

But the automatons were far from finished—several gusts of force swept toward him from behind.

With a bridge-like arch of his body, Chen Qi dodged the attack. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the incense more than half burned and hastily shouted toward the edge of the arena:

“Elder Chi, Steward, I’ve passed the trial, haven’t I? Can you stop the automatons now?”

Elder Chi replied coolly, “You’ve passed, I suppose. But since you can break an automaton, you should be able to endure the full stick of incense, shouldn’t you?”

Chen Qi bit back the words, “Old man, you’re not playing fair,” forced himself to stay focused, and faced the automatons anew.

He had thought that speaking up would let him exit the trial, but Elder Chi made no move to halt the automatons’ assault.

In that moment of distraction and tension, Chen Qi’s swordplay faltered, leaving an opening.

Surrounded on all sides, multiple attacks came at him from different angles. He barely blocked two, but a wooden spear struck him hard in the leg.

The blow drove him to one knee.

A wooden sword suddenly cleaved toward the crown of his head. Not wanting his face marred, Chen Qi gripped his blade with both hands and barely managed to parry the strike.

Then a wooden fork jabbed at his backside, and sharp pains blossomed across his skin.

A black shadow loomed from his left rear—it was a wooden hammer! Chen Qi had no wish for his skull to be smashed and rolled out of the way, only to end up beside the wooden sword automaton.

The sword automaton showed no mercy, leaving dark bruises and bloody welts across his body.

The axe automaton was blocked by its comrades and couldn’t get close, but through the tangle, a wooden spear darted toward his groin.

Terror seized Chen Qi—lying on the ground, he managed to lift his legs just in time to shield himself.

The spear punctured a bloody hole in his right leg, making him grimace in pain.

As the next round of attacks was about to fall, Chen Qi prepared to unleash his Soul Store to fight desperately—when suddenly, the automatons froze.

Elder Chi, satisfied with the progress, had finally halted them.

Surrounded by the various weapons, Chen Qi found himself unable to move and could only cast a pitiful glance toward Elder Chi.

The old man’s stern face softened for once as he offered a rare compliment: “At least you’re tough enough to take a beating, boy.”

Then, with a simple motion, Elder Chi gestured toward him. The automatons blocking Chen Qi slid aside as if on wheels, allowing him to rise at last.

Covered in wounds, blood streaming from his left hand and with a bloody hole in his right leg, Chen Qi struggled to his feet.

Elder Chi frowned, tossed him a pill, and said, “Take this and rest for a day. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you to the third trial.”

The pill was fragrant and shimmered with deep purple—a rare and precious medicine, unlike any Chen Qi had ever seen.

Hearing this, Chen Qi was discouraged. After all, the main quest rewards were tied to speed.

Unwilling to give up, he pleaded, “Elder, I’ll be recovered in just two hours. Please let me take the next trial after that.”

Elder Chi let out a derisive snort, clearly displeased at wasting such a fine pill. “If you think you’re so tough, boy, and aren’t afraid of lasting injuries, come find me anytime for your trial.”

With that, he swept his sleeves and left, leaving Chen Qi uneasy.

“Is that old man going to make things difficult for me in the last trial?” Chen Qi’s thoughts wandered, but outwardly he watched Elder Chi leave with all due respect.

Seeing Chen Qi’s grim expression, the steward from the Hall of Trials, gloating a little, spoke up:

“That’s just how Elder Chi is. Don’t be fooled by his sternness; he’s only worried you’ll end up with lasting injuries.”

He patted Chen Qi on the shoulder and prepared to leave.

Chen Qi didn’t immediately take the purple pill but tucked it away in his storage pouch.

Instead, he hastily swallowed a drop of Pine Cloud Elixir and quickly asked, “Steward, why did the wooden whip automaton have a weakness at the waist? That wasn’t part of its original design, was it?”

At this, the steward paused and replied with interest, “You got lucky. A while back, a female disciple lost patience after being entangled by it and struck that spot with all her strength.”

He added, “Even though the automaton was repaired afterward, that waist remained a weak point. Otherwise, you’d never have been able to break one.”

Chen Qi’s mind raced to digest the information. He hadn’t expected such a formidable disciple—someone who could damage a wooden automaton even as an outer-sect servant.

He quickly pressed, “Who was that disciple? Is she still in our sect?”

From afar, the steward’s laughter rang out: “That’s the inner-sect senior sister you’ve been ogling so much you nearly drooled! Hahaha!”

Soon, the steward’s figure disappeared into the distance.

The medicine Chen Qi had taken began to work, a cool sensation spreading through his wounds like icy clouds soothing his scabs.

He silently praised Elder Sun’s masterful pill-crafting and mentally replayed his battle in the automaton arena.

Chen Qi accepted that he was simply outmatched. Under normal circumstances, he would have left no mark at all on the automaton—striking it had felt like he was a masseur scraping at stone.

“Damn, even the wooden automaton would call me a pro.”

He mocked himself, feeling his strength recover slightly.

Still unwilling to accept defeat, he approached the now motionless wooden automatons, determined to knock on each one with his blade, one by one.