"The Ambush of the Shadowhand Clan"
As they stood waiting, the air was heavy with anticipation, like the moment before a storm breaks. Tianyang handed Ling Tian a luxurious cloth, its softness a stark contrast to the tension building around them. Suddenly, a massive red Buddha palm technique exploded towards them, its power ripping through the air like a tidal wave. The ground shook beneath their feet as the attack hurtled closer.
"Watch out, Tianyang!" Ling Tian's voice was laced with fear as he raised his hands to defend himself. Tianyang, however, stood firm, his eyes locked onto the incoming attack. With a swift motion, he raised his hands, and a brilliant golden light burst forth, coalescing into a shimmering lotus flower shield.
The Golden Lotus Shield surrounded Tianyang, radiating an aura of serenity and calm. As the Buddha palm technique slammed into the shield, its surface rippled and glowed brighter, absorbing the attack. The air vibrated with energy, as if reality itself was being manipulated by Tianyang's will.
The shield's intricate patterns swirled like a whirlpool, drawing in the attack's energy. Tianyang's stance remained unwavering, his feet rooted firmly to the ground. His Qi continued to circulate, maintaining the shield's integrity.
As the energy dissipated, Tianyang's shield gradually faded, leaving him standing tall, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the attack had originated. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, a testament to his calm and focused state.
"Who are you, show yourself!" Tianyang's voice echoed through the trees, stirring the air with his emotions. Suddenly, four masked cultivators descended from the branches above, their movements fluid and calculated. They wore dark, form-fitting attire that blended with the shadows, their faces hidden behind black masks.
Tianyang and Ling Tian stood ready, their faces set in determined expressions. Ling Tian faced two of the masked cultivators, while Tianyang faced the other two. Their hands glowed with Qi energy, as they prepared to defend themselves.
The four masked cultivators posed to fight, their azure Auric Circles glowing brightly behind them. The air vibrated with energy, as the two groups faced off against each other. Tianyang's eyes widened in shock as he realized the true nature of their opponents.
"Spirit Formation cultivators," he whispered, his voice barely audible. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of curiosity and caution, as if he was sizing up the opposition. Ling Tian looked at Tianyang with concern, his eyes narrowing.
"Who are they?" he whispered back, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat. Tianyang's face etched with concern.
"We are about to find out," he replied, his eyes fixed intently on the masked cultivators. As the masked cultivator lunged at Ling Tian with his sword, Ling Tian stood unwavering, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. With a swift, fluid motion, he shifted his weight, sending his left leg backward and his right leg forward, creating a powerful foundation for his counterattack. His right hand shot backward, unleashing a high-pressure energy blast that sent his opponent flying across the ground with incredible force.
The opponent's chest cracked audibly upon impact, and he lay motionless, defeated. Ling Tian's face contorted in pain as he felt a sharp, stinging sensation in his hand, a consequence of unleashing such immense energy. He jumped up and down, waving his hands wildly in an attempt to alleviate the pain, his movements a testament to his unyielding spirit.
Meanwhile, Tianyang faced off against his own opponent, a formidable late Spirit Formation cultivator. The air around them seemed to darken, as if the very atmosphere was being manipulated by their Qi. Tianyang's opponent sneered, his eyes flashing with malevolent intent, his aura radiating an aura of superiority.
With a wave of his hand, the opponent summoned a maelstrom of wind and lightning, unleashing a torrent of elemental fury upon Tianyang. Tianyang leapt into the air, his sword flashing with a soft, blue light, as if the very essence of the sky had been distilled into its blade. He danced through the storm, his movements a blur as he wove a complex pattern of defense and counterattack, his sword slicing through the wind and lightning with effortless ease.
The opponent laughed, his voice dripping with contempt, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent light. "You're faster than I thought," he sneered, "but you're still no match for me." With a sudden burst of speed, he closed the distance between them, his fist flashing towards Tianyang's face, imbued with the ferocious power of the Kōjin no kokoro, the Red God Fist of Heart.
Tianyang raised his sword to block the blow, but his opponent's attack was too powerful, shattering the sword beneath the impact, and sending Tianyang flying across the mountain precipice. He landed hard on the rocky ground, dazed and disoriented, his body battered and bruised.
Ling Tian's eyes widened in horror as he saw Tianyang's battered form, his heart racing with concern. He rushed to his side, shouting, "Tianyang!" The masked cultivators paused, their eyes fixed on Tianyang's prone form, their faces hidden behind their masks, their intentions unknown.
For a moment, the only sound was the heavy breathing of the combatants, and the distant rumble of thunder, as if the very heavens themselves were watching the unfolding drama. The leader of the masked cultivators took a step forward, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent light, his voice dripping with contempt.
"It seems we have the upper hand," he sneered, his words dripping with malice. "But don't worry, we'll finish you off quickly." Ling Tian's eyes blazed with determination as he stood up, his fists clenched in defiance, his spirit unbroken.
"I won't let you hurt him," he growled, his voice low and menacing, his eyes flashing with a fierce determination, as if he would stop at nothing to protect his friend.
As the leader's hands burned with a fiery intensity, ready to unleash a deadly blow, one of his masked cultivators approached him and whispered something in his ear. The leader's expression changed, and he halted his attack, his eyes fixed on Tianyang and Ling Tian.
"You guys are lucky!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. With a swift motion, he signaled to his cultivators, and they ascended back into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.
Ling Tian rushed to Tianyang's side, helping him onto the serpent's back. As he did, the ring on the serpent's forehead glowed once more, emitting a heavy pressure that burned Ling Tian's attire once again. His face twisted in frustration, and he looked around cautiously, ensuring they were not being watched.
"What's wrong with this ring?!" Ling Tian shouted, his voice tinged with desperation, as if he was on the verge of tears. Suddenly, a funny cry burst forth from his lips, a comical expression of his frustration.
Tianyang, despite his injuries, couldn't help but laugh slightly at Ling Tian's antics. "Hop on, and let's go," he said, his voice weak but reassuring. "I have more cloth to spare."
Ling Tian's expression changed, and he looked at Tianyang with a mixture of concern and gratitude. With a nod, Ling Tian climbed onto the serpent's back, sitting behind Tianyang.
The serpent, sensing its riders' fatigue, began to move, its body gliding smoothly through the air. As they flew away from the mountain, Ling Tian looked back, his eyes scanning the trees, wondering if they had truly escaped their mysterious attackers.
The ring on the serpent's forehead, still glowing softly, seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy, as if it was waiting for something, or someone. Ling Tian's thoughts were filled with questions, but for now, he could only focus on getting Tianyang to safety.