247: Chapter 247 Blood River Blocks the Sword, Evenly Matched

Black blood was still seeping from the wound on Blood Butcher's right arm, but he stood motionless.

The three bloodlines that had been severed by "Mountain Cleaver" were retracting into his flesh inch by inch, like living snakes burrowing into mud cracks.

There was no sign of pain on his face; instead, a cold sneer flickered there.

Chen Xiaodao knelt on one knee, his left hand leaning on his sword for support against the rock surface, his knuckles white from the strain.

His chest heaved violently, every breath sounding like a broken bellows being pulled.

A crack had split the armor on his left shoulder, and blood flowed down his forearm, pooling in a small puddle on the ground.

Between the two men, there was a distance of five zhang, so quiet that the soft sound of blood dripping onto the ground could be heard.

Ding—

Another drop.

Blood Butcher suddenly raised his hand, palm facing forward. The severed bloodlines snapped straight, and the remaining black blood flowed backward into his Meridians with a faint "hissing" sound.

The air in front of his chest distorted as a layer of dark red membrane slowly took shape, thick as a bronze wall, its surface flowing with vessel-like patterns.

Chen Xiaodao's pupils constricted.

When he had struck with that sword, he felt as though he had already torn through the opponent's core defense.

But this blood wall now was even more solid than the previous blood shield; it was as if the entire true intent of the Blood River Demonic Art had been refined into a barrier.

He didn't charge again.

He knew that charging up now would be seeking death.

The strike just now had exhausted all the Spiritual Qi he could mobilize, leaving even his Dantian trembling.

If not for the trace of Spiritual Qi remaining in the abandoned Spiritual Vein beneath his feet, he wouldn't even be able to stand steadily.

Blood Butcher stared at him, his voice low and raspy: "How many breaths do you have left?"

Chen Xiaodao didn't answer.

He pressed his right hand to the ground, his palm against a crack in the rock layer, guiding the weak spiritual current beneath into his body bit by bit.

That bit of Spiritual Qi was pitifully small, like scooping water from a dry well, but it was better than nothing.

Blood Butcher was in no hurry either.

He closed his eyes, and twelve bloodlines roamed across his body, repairing the severed parts.

The broken blood threads reconnected, their color turning from light gray to deep red, finally emitting a metallic luster.

The blood river barrier thickened by thirty percent accordingly, its edges even beginning to release faint shockwaves, crushing the residual Sword Qi in the air into fragments.

A muffled thud came from deep within the cave.

The corpse of a Yao Beast suddenly convulsed, its neck exploding as black blood splattered against the rock wall.

Then came a second, then a third—all were Shadow-Beak Ravens that had been shaken to death by the shield earlier.

Their corpses were manipulated by an invisible force, slowly standing up and lining up behind Blood Butcher like a makeshift guard.

Chen Xiaodao's peripheral vision swept over them, remaining outwardly calm.

These corpses had long since lost their life force; they were merely being used as Puppets after being parasitized by bloodlines.

Blood Butcher was guarding his back, which meant he wasn't entirely confident in controlling the situation while healing.

A good opportunity.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his Sea of Consciousness.

Meteor Sword Intent surfaced in his heart, like a silver trail streaking across the night sky.

This intent was extremely pure, without any stray thoughts, possessing only an indomitable determination.

Using this intent, he constructed a silent Domain within his Sea of Consciousness, isolating himself from external noise.

The distant boom of Yao Beasts hitting the walls, the screeching friction between blood mist and Sword Qi, the creaking of corpse joints... it all blurred away.

His world was left with only Blood Butcher's presence.

Steady, yet hiding fluctuations.

Like the surface of a lake before a storm.

Chen Xiaodao knew the opponent seemed to be repairing, but was actually waiting—waiting for him to strike first, waiting for him to reveal a flaw.

Then they would wait it out.

He gritted his teeth and continued to draw in Qi.

A little more, then a little more.

Even if it was slow, he couldn't be reckless.

Blood Butcher opened his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching: "Kid, do you think you can win just by closing your eyes?"

As he spoke, the blood river barrier suddenly expanded by half a foot, its surface covered with dense rune-like cracks that healed instantly.

He was testing the limits of his defense.

Chen Xiaodao still didn't open his eyes.

But his left hand moved slightly, his fingertip tracing a shallow mark on the rock surface.

He was memorizing the rhythm.

Every cycle of Blood Butcher's blood circulation caused a slight vibration in the barrier.

One cycle every seven breaths; every time it reached the sixth, there would be a momentary lag in the outermost layer of the barrier—the instant when the old force was spent and the new force had yet to be born.

Though it was only an instant, it was enough.

As long as he could still stand up.

On the other side of the cave, an egg sac suddenly burst, spraying out purple-gray mucus.

The young beast curled inside had long since died, leaving only a skeleton.

The mucus landed on the ground with a soft "sizzle," corroding small pits.

Chen Xiaodao smelled the scent.

A fishy sweetness mixed with rot, the product of Demonic Qi and blood energy merging.

This smell should have disturbed his Divine Sense, but his mind was now as still as water.

Because he had already found the rhythm.

Blood Butcher sensed something and frowned.

He no longer closed his eyes but stared fixedly at Chen Xiaodao.

This youth was too calm.

Despite being physically exhausted and having unhealed injuries, he was like a sword thrust into the ground—even if broken, his sharpness had not dissipated.

He didn't like this feeling.

Three hundred years ago, he had also faced such a person.

That person had stood at the edge of a cliff, covered in blood, with his last breath gone, yet his eyes still stared fixedly at him, never looking away until he collapsed.

Later, that person became the only name he dared not mention in his heart.

"Who exactly are you?" Blood Butcher said in a low voice.

"A member of the Chen family." Chen Xiaodao finally opened his eyes, his gaze like a blade. "You said you didn't like hearing that."

Blood Butcher snorted coldly: "I've killed too many 'members of the Chen family.' From the Eastern Wastelands to the Western Desert, which one of them didn't beg for mercy while crying?"

"Then try it today." Chen Xiaodao slowly stood up. His left leg was still a bit weak, but he stood straight. "See if I die kneeling, or stand up to cut off your head."

As his voice fell, he drew his sword.

The sword blade hummed, residual silver light flowing along the edge.

Meteor Sword Intent condensed once more; though not as vast as at its Peak, it was even more refined.

Blood Butcher's eyes narrowed.

He knew that the real contest was only just beginning.

The barrier didn't move, the men didn't move, but the air had already begun to tremble.

Sword Qi and blood mist collided on the ground between the two, exploding in circles of ripple-like shockwaves.

A layer of rock was shaved off, revealing the blue-black rock core beneath.

In the distance, the three corpses turned toward Chen Xiaodao simultaneously, their heads tilted, empty eye sockets locking onto him.

No one moved.

But everyone understood—the next second would be life or death.

At the top of the cave, gravel fell rustling down.

It was unclear if the aftershocks of the battle had loosened the rock layers or if something even larger was waking up.

Chen Xiaodao's sword tip hung toward the ground, tracing a long, thin mark.

Blood Butcher's barrier rippled with dark red waves, like a blood lake ruffled by the wind.

The sound of metal scraping, the roar of Yao Beasts, the sound of blood dripping, the sound of breath being drawn... all intertwined like a violent symphony without a conductor.

Between them, the five-zhang distance remained unchanged.

Neither had the upper hand.

Neither had retreated a step.

Chen Xiaodao's eyelashes flickered slightly.

Blood Butcher's right hand quietly clenched.