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Chapter 37: Chapter 38: Heavenly Snake Xuanling Hand

He lowered his voice, a fierce determination burning in his eyes. "Because I don't leave debts unpaid. Whether it's a debt of money, a debt of honor, or a debt of gratitude—I'll pay it, even if it costs me my life. I won't let anything happen to her."

With that, he extended his hand toward Ma Qianjun, a challenge clear in his gesture. "I've thrown down my weapons. If you're truly a man, let her go and come at me with your fists. Let's settle this, man to man."

Ma Qianjun's laughter filled the room, cold and mocking. "Oh, you speak so well. You speak so well! But the problem is, I am Ma Qianjun—the man who never keeps his word." His voice rose to a near-manic pitch as he turned toward the fading light of the sunset. "I never kept my promise to Xiaoshui! And I regret it—oh, how I regret it!"

He paused, his tone dropping to a sinister growl. "That's why I'll make you feel the same agony I felt—the helplessness of watching someone you care for slip through your fingers. I'll let you taste the despair of losing someone dear, crushed before your eyes. And after I'm done with her, I'll grind you into dust."

Ma Qianjun tightened his grip on Wang Zihan, his venomous gaze locked on Du Yunlong. Every fiber in Du Yunlong's being screamed at him to act, but he couldn't find the right moment. Then Ma Qianjun's voice rang out again, cold and final. "Miss Wang, for Xiaoshui, you must die."

Du Yunlong's heart raced. He was willing to give his life to protect Wang Zihan, but the sheer helplessness of the situation was tearing him apart. All he could do was watch as Ma Qianjun's deadly strike, as swift and vicious as a viper, shot toward her.

"No!"

Du Yunlong leaped forward, fists clenched, hurling himself at Ma Qianjun without care for his own safety. But Ma Qianjun had been waiting for this. His left hand moved with serpentine speed, striking directly at Wang Zihan. One hit from that fist would shatter her—and not even a Nascent Soul cultivator could save her.

Suddenly, a flash of white light erupted in front of Du Yunlong. Wang Zihan was enveloped in a glowing cocoon. Ma Qianjun's thunderous blow landed squarely on it, shattering the protective shell into a thousand glittering fragments. Yet, that brief moment of resistance slowed Ma Qianjun's strike just enough.

Seizing the opportunity, Du Yunlong closed the distance between them, sweeping past Wang Zihan in a blur. Though her light barrier had been destroyed, the force of Ma Qianjun's blow had pushed her in his direction. Du Yunlong still didn't understand how she had summoned that light, but relief washed over him as he reached her. Without hesitation, he threw a feint at Ma Qianjun, then pulled Wang Zihan back toward safety.

They backed up until there was nowhere left to retreat—Wang Zihan pressed against the temple's cold stone wall, her face pale but defiant. "Watch out for Ma Qianjun!" she whispered urgently.

Du Yunlong's sharp gaze softened slightly, seeing her determination. "I don't know how it happened," she said, her breath quick and shallow, "but when Ma Qianjun struck, I was able to channel my spiritual energy again. I think... it's the Tian Nü Temple. Ever since we entered, I've felt my energy slowly returning. It must be connected to this place."

Du Yunlong's mind raced. Though he'd lost his sword, the fact that Wang Zihan could fight again gave them a sliver of hope in this deadly game. But before he could respond, he saw a flash of silver from above.

Lightning.

In an instant, the entire temple shook as a bolt of energy struck down, wrapping around Wang Zihan like a serpent. The deafening roar of thunder filled the air as arcs of electricity crackled through the room, and Du Yunlong's heart froze.

"Tribulation?" Du Yunlong's mind reeled. This scene looked exactly like the tales of heavenly tribulations—punishments reserved for those about to ascend in cultivation. But Wang Zihan was only at the Foundation Establishment stage, nowhere near the Golden Core level that would warrant a tribulation.

He had no time to ponder. The lightning coiled around Wang Zihan like a living thing, forcing him to act. Ignoring the searing pain that shot through his body as he moved, Du Yunlong struck at the serpentine bolt with his fists, desperate to break its hold on her.

The pain was unbearable. His body trembled, every muscle burning, but just as quickly as the tribulation had come, it faded. And to his astonishment, Wang Zihan blinked up at him, unscathed.

Thank the heavens, Du Yunlong thought. Relief flooded him, though his mind was already calculating their next move.

Wang Zihan's breath came in short gasps. "It's only a small tribulation," she said, her voice trembling. "I think... it's tied to what happened to me. I couldn't control my spiritual energy before, and this... this is some kind of correction. A protection, maybe."

Still clutching Du Yunlong's hand, Wang Zihan looked at him with teary eyes. "We're going to have to go our separate ways when we reach Yuanzhou," she said softly. "But until then... can we stay together? Please, take care of yourself. I'm not worth this risk."

"I don't leave debts unpaid," Du Yunlong started to say, but Wang Zihan pressed a finger to his lips.

"She's not worth your life..."

Bang!

With a furious shout, Du Yunlong lunged forward, his fists charged with all his strength as he clashed with Ma Qianjun!

Ma Qianjun's hands moved like striking vipers, swift and deadly, his snake-like fists laced with an overwhelming power that took Du Yunlong by surprise. The moment their fists met, Du Yunlong felt a sharp, cracking pain in his knuckles, his body instinctively recoiling from the force. He was driven back, barely able to stay on his feet!

Though this was only a diminished version of the 'Thunderous Might' technique, and even though it was being executed by Ma Qianjun, a martial artist at the Yuan Dragon level, Du Yunlong now fully understood why martial artists, after reaching the realm of breaking steel with a punch, returned to the primal force of raw strength.

When power reaches such an extreme, it becomes terrifying beyond measure. Each strike, each clash, was a brutal trial for both body and soul. Du Yunlong felt as though his bones were being torn apart piece by piece by Ma Qianjun's relentless blows. His hands were a bloody mess, numb from pain, while his blood roiled inside him, making it impossible to stand firm.

After only three exchanges, each breath Du Yunlong took felt like he was inhaling fire. Now, he finally understood how a martial artist at Ma Qianjun's level could obliterate a fellow cultivator in a single strike—this kind of raw power was simply too overwhelming, too impossible to face head-on.

Initially, he'd considered using a Daoist technique to turn the tide. But now, under Ma Qianjun's relentless barrage, Du Yunlong realized there was no opportunity to do so. He was fighting on pure instinct.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his legs unsteady beneath him, but still, he moved. Without waiting to regain his balance, he charged forward again, his left hand gathered all the strength he could muster and swung toward Ma Qianjun's snake fist.

Because behind him, Wang Zihan was still there!

"You're courting death!" Ma Qianjun sneered, astonished that Du Yunlong was not retreating, but advancing. The man was willing to stake everything on a final, desperate showdown in the heart of Tian Nü Temple. Ma Qianjun's fists moved with fluid, deadly precision, the gusts from his punches alone causing Du Yunlong to feel like he was suffocating. "I'll turn you into pulp!"

Fist met fist once again, the sound of their clash echoing through the temple, a brutal forge of blood, bone, and spirit. Time and again, Ma Qianjun's thunderous snake fists collided with Du Yunlong's. Yet, impossibly, Du Yunlong, who should've collapsed by now, stood firm like an unyielding giant from ancient legends. Blood poured from his mouth with each strike, but he refused to fall.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Ma Qianjun's confidence began to waver. His technique, 'Thunderous Might,' came at a great cost. Despite his natural talent and his Yuan Dragon level cultivation, the strain of delivering so many blows had begun to take its toll. He retreated two steps, gasping for breath. "Du Yunlong, let's see if you can withstand my 'Heavenly Serpent Mystic Palm!' I'll reduce you to a smear of blood!"

Du Yunlong was drenched in blood, his own face so battered and broken that even his closest companions wouldn't have recognized him. But through the blood and pain, a fierce smile curled his lips. He spat out a mouthful of blood, laughing defiantly. "Ma Qianjun, as long as Miss Wang is behind me, I won't die before you!"