Chapter 51: Maneuvering

Without bothering to check the outcome of the blood arrow, Chen Qi splashed through the water, retreating swiftly. Although he appeared to be evenly matched with the pangolin fiend on the surface, in truth he was relying solely on the clever use of his skills to hold his own. Once his skills were exhausted, he knew when to withdraw—a quality he had always prided himself on.

As expected, when the blood arrow flew towards its face, the pangolin reacted in an instant. It shut its eyes, gathering all its blood energy into its head. For a moment, its skull surged with crimson power, and the blood arrow dissolved upon contact. The splattered black blood sizzled corrosively on the beast’s face, finally provoking the pangolin’s rage; its eyes brimmed with murderous fury.

The lake water around them rippled violently as the pangolin unleashed its full force. Chen Qi could almost feel the temperature drop by several degrees.

A sharp sound split the air as the beast, standing its ground, raised its claws and slashed four times in quick succession. Each claw mark was as large as a sandbag, faintly roaring with wind and thunder, all hurtling toward Chen Qi—the pangolin was finally unleashing its own skill.

Noticing the beast’s slight pause after attacking, the disciple surnamed Ao and the claw-wielding disciple seized the moment, striking from both sides. The pangolin diverted two of its claw strikes to meet them, while the remaining two accelerated towards Chen Qi.

By now, Chen Qi had already retreated over ten meters, but the claw marks closed in instantly. In desperation, he raised his blade to meet the attack.

It felt as if he’d been hit by a speeding car. Chen Qi was sent flying backward like a cut kite, his long blade barely parrying one claw before the force shook it from his grip. The second claw strike landed squarely on his chest.

Crushed by the blow, Chen Qi fell into the knee-deep lake, sending up a great splash. He forced himself upright just enough to keep his head above water, struggling to avoid drowning.

The strike shattered several of his ribs, a searing pain burning through his chest as he coughed up a mouthful of blood. He’d only ever seen such a scene in movies; never had he imagined he’d one day be on the receiving end—truly, the wisdom of the ancients did not deceive.

A glance at his health bar showed it had dropped from 87%—already reduced by previous shocks—to a mere 29%. A single strike had nearly crippled him.

Stars still danced before his eyes when he heard two sharp splashes nearby. Raising his head, he saw the claw-wielding disciple struggling to stand, while the Ao-named disciple lay motionless in the water, his fate likely sealed.

This pangolin truly deserved its reputation as a peak fifth-tier fiend; its full-force attack was terrifying beyond belief.

But the beast gave Chen Qi no time to catch his breath. Fixated on him, it charged, intent on making this human understand the true meaning of terror.

There was no time to use healing potions, no time for any items, not even time to stand. Acting on instinct alone, Chen Qi slipped beneath the water, scrambling and crawling in hopes of evading the assault.

Yet, this was a hopeless maneuver. In water barely a few dozen centimeters deep, any normal fifth-tier beast would not be hindered. Death seemed inevitable for Chen Qi.

From the side, Sun Ruohai finally moved. The blood energy that had been gathering on his longsword contracted into a single, ominous point. Suddenly, it exploded forth—a blood-red wolf’s head materialized, majestic and fierce, slashing straight at the pangolin.

The wolf’s head blocked the beast’s path, and the lightning-swift fiend crashed into it unprepared. There was a beautiful, almost fireworks-like explosion as the crimson wolf collided with the violet blur midair.

For the first time, the pangolin was sent flying, its wounds reopening and violet scales scattering.

Clearly, the technique Sun Ruohai had been preparing for so long was devastating. If Chen Qi recalled correctly, this was the ??? skill he’d detected when inspecting Sun Ruohai earlier.

Truly, the question marks were justified—this strike was beyond first-tier limits.

After unleashing his technique, Sun Ruohai’s face went deathly pale, like a man drained of blood. He staggered, barely staying upright by leaning on his sword, and cast a hopeful look at Chen Qi.

Feeling the weight of that gaze, Chen Qi got to his feet, his expression resolute. He extended his long blade, pointing it at the fiend, the hem of his sleeve fluttering at his arm.

His stance declared: “There is no retreat in this battle! Only death or victory!”

The pangolin rose slowly, sending up another splash, its stance a little unsteady. The unexpected blow had dulled the bloodlust in its eyes, replaced by a cunning, calculating glint.

Wading through the lake, the beast approached Chen Qi step by step, calm and composed, radiating a flawless, natural aura. There was not a single opening to be found.

It was hard to imagine that such imposing poise could belong to a pangolin, yet it felt perfectly natural.

Chen Qi used his inspection skill again, needing to know the beast’s current state.

There was no time to examine the details—he focused on its health: still at 37%. It was nowhere near critical!

Drawn by the pangolin’s presence, Chen Qi retreated, their movements perfectly synchronized—a dance of advance and withdrawal, their rhythms matched.

Unconsciously, man and beast had covered dozens of steps. The pangolin held his gaze, maintaining a suffocating pressure, yet did not attack.

The closer they moved to the center of the lake, the deeper the water became—now it reached Chen Qi’s lower abdomen, and the temperature had risen to seventy degrees Celsius.

No ordinary person could endure such heat; Chen Qi had to muster all his blood energy to keep himself from being scalded.

Yet his attention remained fixed on the pangolin a few paces ahead, with no thought to spare for his surroundings.

As he continued retreating, Chen Qi swallowed nervously, a thread of doubt creeping into his mind:

“What is this beast up to? Why hasn’t it attacked? With its strength, it should have finished me by now.”

Even as these thoughts flickered, Chen Qi slipped his left hand beneath the surface, quietly activating an item—the Proof of Comradeship.

Seeing the item’s remaining uses drop again, Chen Qi kept his composure, communicating covertly with the summoned special soldier, issuing silent commands.

The strange, human-shaped figure hid beneath the murky water, leaving no trace.

As the pangolin was about to step into that patch of water, Chen Qi finally broke his rhythm, as if panicked and trying to flee.

A hint of something unreadable flashed in the pangolin’s eyes as it lunged forward, transforming into a violet shadow.

After just a few meters, it sensed something amiss and leapt several meters into the air.

A violent explosion erupted from the water below, sending a geyser splashing against its body.

The beast ignored the now-feeble force of the water, but felt a faint sense of danger. It covered its vital abdomen with both claws.

A blurry figure crouched on the water, lifting a black gun barrel, unleashing a barrage of gunfire. Bullets spun at the pangolin, bouncing off its violet scales, sending tiny splashes across the surface.

Sensing the weapon’s lack of power, the figure drew a string of grenades from its waist, pulled the pin, and hurled them at the beast.

Another series of violent explosions followed, with black smoke and water flying everywhere, and even a faint crackling of fire.

Chen Qi felt a glimmer of hope and used his inspection skill again, determined to assess the pangolin fiend’s condition now.