Nightmare Apostle

Staring at the purple dagger in Fu Qingzhu’s hand, Yang Xiao knew that the problem lay in that dagger.

This was an excellent magic artifact he had never seen before; its surface was dull without much luster, nor was it sharp. The material didn’t seem like metal, more like some kind of polished mineral. It must have been something Fu Qingzhu acquired recently.

Yang Xiao boldly guessed that this dagger was the item that the Southern Border Liu Family had traded with that group of evil cultivators, only to be intercepted by his good brother in the end.

This dagger could lock onto his position; just a moment ago, even though he had concealed himself, the dagger launched a sneak attack from a very tricky angle from behind.

He had already hidden quietly in the darkness twenty meters away; it was only thanks to his extraordinary perception that he avoided injury from that strike.

It was evident that Fu Qingzhu had made significant progress. The combination of the purple dagger and the bone fan could even cause him some trouble, which was truly beyond Yang Xiao’s expectations for an Angel Envoy of Fu Qingzhu’s level.

If it had been Han Li in that situation, he would have at least been severely injured, and in a moment of negligence, he might have been killed outright.

"Good brother, I told you not to underestimate me!"

Feeling the surge of spiritual power within him, Fu Qingzhu, with a bone fan in his left hand and dagger in the right, felt unprecedented strength and was filled with confidence.

The previous strike only grazed Yang Xiao’s sleeve. To be honest, Fu Qingzhu was not satisfied, considering he had recently used this move to kill a Ghost Level evil cultivator with a sneak attack.

No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a "pfft" sound. Fu Qingzhu looked towards the noise, only to see Little Yang Xiao being hoisted by a hanging rope, swinging on a swing while trying not to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter.

Fu Qingzhu: "..."

Yang Xiao was unwilling to dampen his good brother’s confidence, and he was already very pleased with Fu Qingzhu’s accomplishments.

In Rongcheng, Fu Qingzhu was surely considered a top expert; there were no more than five people who could surpass him, and even Xi Menxiu’s Dark Army Captain aunt might not be his match.

But Yang Xiao still decided to give him a lesson. With a flick of his wrist, he drew the Ghost Bamboo Stick with a backhand, but after a moment’s hesitation, he put it away and replaced it with a Ring-Headed Saber.

Then, feeling it still wasn’t right, he put away the Ring-Headed Saber too and instead took out a short stick, the Human Bone Staff.

Looking at the Human Bone Staff in his hand, then at Fu Qingzhu not far away, Yang Xiao sighed and finally swapped it for a Ghost Lantern, which should be about right this time.

This maneuver left Fu Qingzhu utterly baffled as he looked at Yang Xiao with a strange expression, not understanding what his good brother was up to.

Fu Qingzhu roughly knew the ability of the Ghost Lantern; it was not an offensive magic artifact. Could it be... Yang Xiao thought he could defeat him with just a Ghost Lantern?

Though the two had a close bond, Fu Qingzhu considered himself changed from those earlier years. While there was a gap between them, it wasn’t so significant, and he felt underestimated.

"Good brother, I remind you, don’t regret it." Fu Qingzhu snapped open the bone fan with a "snap," and an unusual space power permeated from it, rather mysterious.

In the next second, there was another "pfft" sound from mid-air. Fu Qingzhu looked up, his face turning green.

At this moment, Mirror Ghost couldn’t hold back anymore, grinned, put his palms together, and kept begging Fu Qingzhu not to continue.

With a thought, warned by Yang Xiao, Mirror Ghost stopped laughing and obediently pretended to be the Hanged Ghost once again, playing on the swing by himself.

Fu Qingzhu couldn’t stand it; he had to prove to Yang Xiao that he was not just ordinary stock, that he, Fu Qingzhu, was no drag on the three tigers of Rongcheng back in the day.

This time, Yang Xiao made the first move, appearing in front of Fu Qingzhu using the Soul-Capturing Mirror and swung the Ghost Lantern at him.

Fu Qingzhu was prepared, swinging his dagger in his right hand for attack while opening the folding fan with his left hand, retreating in defense.

The Ghost Lantern was blocked by the folding fan, and Fu Qingzhu’s dagger was skillfully dodged by Yang Xiao. Using the momentum, Yang Xiao advanced, engaging Fu Qingzhu in close combat, slapping his palm on Fu Qingzhu’s chest, pushing him back.

But in the moment of pushing Fu Qingzhu back, Yang Xiao noticed his opponent’s curled lips.

Meanwhile, a chilling wind came from behind, and without needing to turn around, Yang Xiao knew it was the Hanging Rope.

After forcing Fu Qingzhu back, Yang Xiao turned and swung the Ghost Lantern backward. The next second, Fu Qingzhu saw a green light explode before his eyes. Although he squinted in advance, it helped little, as he fell into blindness for a full three seconds, feeling entirely hollowed out.

When he came to his senses, the sight shocked him. Yang Xiao stood before him, holding the Ghost Lantern in his left hand and the Hanging Rope in his right hand.

The Hanging Rope hung lifelessly like a dead snake, its end drooping to the ground, unresponsive to any call, its connection completely severed.

In truth, the outcome was decided at that moment. If Yang Xiao had meant him harm, those three seconds of vulnerability were more than enough to kill him thrice over.

But their exchange was never a fight to the death; Fu Qingzhu also wanted to test his limits.

Gritting his teeth, he once again gathered his spiritual power, opened the folding fan, repeated his old trick, and raised the dagger to stab at the silhouette on the fan’s surface, Yang Xiao’s back.

As the dagger crept closer to Yang Xiao, Fu Qingzhu panicked. In his haste, he aimed for the heart with this thrust. If it hit, no matter how strong Yang Xiao’s life force was, he wouldn’t survive. At the last moment, he exerted force to shift the dagger away, targeting his sleeve instead.

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