The Puppet Blueprint and a Desperate Stand

Observing Bai Que sitting cross-legged, seemingly lost in thought, Su Han chose not to disturb him. She turned, instead, to survey the stone chamber.

Beside the Thousand-Hand Guanyin statue, nestled in a damp, dimly lit corner, a crumpled ball of discarded paper lay conspicuously. While waste paper itself wasn’t unusual, its presence in this peculiar chamber made her ponder.

Su Han bent down, picked up the yellowed Xuan paper, and carefully unfolded it. The paper, of an unknown material, bore five large characters: “Puppet Blueprint.”

The necessary materials and construction steps for the puppet were clearly detailed on the sheet. Su Han was initially astonished, but upon reading further, she discovered that the puppet described was incomplete. It was as if a whole puppet had been forcibly torn in two.

‘So, this must be the upper scroll, then?’ Though she had no idea where the lower half might be, and even less use for it herself, she instinctively placed it into her storage ring.

Just then, the stone steps that had vanished earlier reappeared. As light spread, two figures, leaning on each other and looking utterly disheveled, became faintly visible.

When the pair reached her, they, along with Su Han, simultaneously cried out.

“It’s you?!”

All three were clearly astonished, having never expected to encounter each other in this place.

The newcomers were none other than Chen Yuan and Xia Xuan, both now glaring at Su Han with furious eyes.

Su Han glanced at Bai Que, still deep in his meditation, and preemptively questioned them.

“How did you two manage to get here?”

“That’s a question we should be asking you,” Chen Yuan retorted, his eyes darting around Bai Que. “I truly didn’t expect to run into you here.”

He chuckled darkly. “Hehe, what’s wrong? Was this fellow perhaps injured by a Netherworld Demonic Bat?”

“What Netherworld Demonic Bat?” Su Han questioned, her brow furrowed.

“Brother, how can you be so foolish?” Xia Xuan interjected, pointing towards Bai Que, who remained seated beneath the Thousand-Hand Guanyin. “That guy is clearly in the midst of enlightenment!”

“Oh?” Chen Yuan mused, a glint in his eye. “To think there are such opportunities within this subterranean cave—I truly hadn’t expected it.”

Hearing this, Su Han’s brow furrowed. The other party’s tone was unmistakably ominous.

Just as Su Han had suspected, Chen Yuan began to advance, step by step.

“Hey,” he called out, a smirk playing on his lips. “I believe I just caught a glimpse of a blueprint in your hand. Why not bring it out for us all to admire?”

“I imagine the opportunities within this ancient cave have largely been claimed by the two of you,” Chen Yuan continued, his eyes narrowed. “I doubt I’d find anything else, no matter how much I search. So, how about sharing a little of what you’ve acquired with us?”

Su Han instinctively stepped in front of Bai Que, shielding his form, and retorted coldly.

“On what grounds?”

The atmosphere grew taut, as if a crossbow had been drawn. Chen Yuan merely laughed.

“Haha, on what grounds? On the grounds that he’s in seclusion, and you, alone, are no match for the two of us!”

As he finished speaking, Chen Yuan produced an iron whip from seemingly nowhere. Its cold glint shimmered as he lashed it towards Su Han.

Su Han was now on high alert, her nerves stretched thin. As a mere seventh-tier bloodline, how could she possibly contend with a Legendary Knight? Even if Chen Yuan had only just entered the Legendary realm, he was still vastly stronger than her, a Dragonkin of the seventh bloodline. The difference between them spanned more than a single tier.

The black iron whip, forged from an unknown material, lashed out at Su Han. She narrowly evaded it at the last possible second, utilizing her ‘Gluttony’ ability.

Yet, the fierce battle aura emanating from the whip’s edge still grazed her shoulder, carving a crimson line and drawing a splash of blood.

“Huh~” Chen Yuan uttered, clearly taken aback. “It seems I’ve underestimated you!”

With that, he raised his iron whip again, slashing it down. However, this time its target was not Su Han, but rather Bai Que, who remained in meditation.

As if that weren’t enough, Xia Xuan’s arm suddenly extended a blood-red vine, which lashed out at Su Han with a continuous, cracking sound.

“Despicable scoundrels!” Su Han cried out, her voice laced with fury.

In that life-or-death moment, disregarding her own safety, she spun and flew towards Bai Que. She channeled her vital blood, employing a legendary sword technique to block the incoming attack for him.

Before she could even register the impact, a searing pain erupted across her back. The barbed blood-red vine had pierced her skin, leaving an immediate, raw whip mark that bled profusely.

Feeling the scorching pain across her back, Su Han inwardly spat in disgust.

‘Truly vile people,’ she thought, her mind seething. ‘They say harsh lands breed rogues, but it seems this Mercenary Guild cultivates scoundrels even amidst verdant mountains and clear waters!’

“Say whatever you like,” Chen Yuan said, casting a dismissive glance her way. “You’re dying anyway, so there’s no harm in indulging in some last words!”

With that, his iron whip glowed with a deep, azure battle aura, thrusting directly towards Su Han’s chest. Meanwhile, Xia Xuan’s blood-red vine stealthily coiled, preparing to launch a fatal strike.

Caught in a pincer attack, and with Chen Yuan’s superior strength pressing down, Su Han found herself gradually losing ground. Threads of blood began to trickle from her lips.

In the confined space of the stone chamber, transforming into her dragon form would be impossible, severely restricting her movements and putting her at an even greater disadvantage. Thus, Su Han could only exert every ounce of her strength to resist the combined assault of Chen Yuan and Xia Xuan.

Su Han’s ‘Heavy Pupils’ manifested, and she immediately employed her pupil technique to buy herself a precious moment. Simultaneously, she unleashed her forbidden hand state.

Upon seeing Su Han, now adorned with dragon wings, Chen Yuan’s eyes gleamed with avarice.

“Dragon Lady?!” he exclaimed, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face. “A descendant of dragons! We’ve truly hit the jackpot this time!”

Chen Yuan rubbed his hands together, cackling with unbridled glee.

Chen Yuan’s iron whip became a blur, lashing, sweeping, stabbing, and parrying, or chopping down from above. Meanwhile, Xia Xuan’s blood-red vine relentlessly interfered, compounding Su Han’s plight.

By now, Su Han was covered in wounds. Her once jade-like face was streaked with her own blood, not her opponents’. She hadn’t even managed to touch Chen Yuan’s clothes.

She was holding on purely through sheer, unyielding willpower. Even her most resilient Imperial Armor had been shattered to fragments by the relentless assault of the iron whip.

“Hehe, still refusing to hand it over?” Chen Yuan roared, his expression truly monstrous. “Then you can die with him!”

“Am I going to die again?” Su Han murmured, a bitter smile gracing her blood-stained lips. Her form had regressed to that of a child due to her depleted magical energy. “The taste of death truly is unpleasant!”

“I had only just grown stronger, yet before others, I am still as weak as an ant,” she continued, her voice filled with a profound sorrow. “I had only just revived, and now I’m to die again so soon? How utterly unwilling I am….”

Su Han turned her head, a desolate, bitter smile gracing her lips. She gazed at Bai Que.

“At least,” she whispered, “there’s someone accompanying me in this.”

The very instant Chen Yuan made his move, the Thousand-Hand Guanyin statue beside him shattered into countless pieces. The terrifying idol crumbled into dust.

At that precise moment, a chilling voice resonated through the chamber.

“Did I,” it questioned, infused with an icy menace, “allow you to touch her?”

The voice was undeniably arrogant, yet to Su Han, it resonated with a profound warmth. In her most desperate and helpless moment, he had finally reached out.

A melancholic song began to play within her heart—bitter and poignant, yet infused with a strange happiness.

Cool autumn chills, composing verses,

I think of you in leisure, watching.

Tattered robes, a delicate adornment,

Awaiting the turning of my heart’s plight…