Chapter 796: The Gold-Banded Staff vs the Blood Jiao Spear
The roiling blood mist slowly dispersed, revealing two figures at the center of every gaze.
In the midst of the shattered plaza, Mo Yu flexed his Sky-Shaking Divine Arm, his expression cool and detached as he lifted his head toward the sky.
Far above, Blood Ming reappeared, the crimson light around his body pulsing faintly. Though his face remained cold, his eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise.
The sheer power Mo Yu had displayed moments ago was beyond what he'd expected.
Though only a half-step eighth-rank Supreme in cultivation, the combination of Mo Yu's refined spiritual energy and unmatched physical strength had propelled his combat power far beyond the scope of ordinary eighth ranks.
No wonder he'd dared to challenge him head-on—he truly had some weight.
Boom!
Before Blood Ming could act, Mo Yu's foot slammed against the ground, his form turning into a streak of light as he shot upward like a thunderbolt, charging straight at him.
Murmurs rippled through the spectators. None had imagined Mo Yu would actually take the initiative to strike.
Whoosh!
Mo Yu appeared overhead in an instant, his Divine Arm glowing bright purple-gold. With an explosion of strength, he drove his fist through the air. The pressure shattered the sky itself, fragments of distorted light scattering as space cracked apart.
A single punch that could collapse the heavens.
"Sky-Shaking Arm—King Ape's Fist!"
The sheer force of his punch made the air explode like fireworks. The massive violet-gold fist-shape blasted toward Blood Ming like a meteor, the power roaring with apocalyptic ferocity.
A low snort escaped Blood Ming's lips as his eyes hardened. His hands flashed in rapid seals, intricate runes blazing to life within his palms before he slammed them forward.
"Blood Jiao Fang!"
A surge of blood-colored light condensed instantly, forming a serrated fang tens of meters long. It roared through the air and collided head-on with Mo Yu's incoming punch.
Boom!
The impact unleashed a violent shockwave that swallowed the entire plaza in a storm of chaos. Fist and fang disintegrated at once, exploding into light as the wave rolled outward like a crimson tsunami.
Blood Ming was blasted backward through the air, hair and robes in disarray, forced for the first time into a semblance of dishevelment.
The onlookers could barely breathe. None had expected that in just a handful of exchanges, the young human would drive the Blood Jiao prodigy into retreat.
Mo Yu, however, remained unfazed. He had once slain a half-step ninth-rank Beast Spirit while still at seventh rank—now with his cultivation doubled, this battle was well within his control.
Blood Ming steadied himself midair, eyes narrowing to twin needles of cold light. His fury was palpable.
That a mere human, weaker in cultivation, could force him back before an audience of rival clans—it was intolerable. But fury gave way to cold determination. His expression smoothed, and he reached out slowly with his right hand.
A spear of twisted blood-ice appeared in his grasp, radiating a killing aura that froze the very air around it.
Mo Yu's gaze darkened. The oppressive energy pouring from that weapon was leagues beyond the strikes before.
"That's the Blood Jiao Ice Spear…" muttered one of the Blood Jiao warriors below. "A quasi-sacred relic bestowed upon him by the clan elders."
That weapon was Blood Ming's ultimate card—seldom drawn, reserved only for opponents worthy of facing his full might.
The fact that he wielded it now spoke volumes.
High above, Blood Ming leveled the spear before him. Crimson light flared; his spiritual energy surged like a hurricane, pouring endlessly into the weapon.
Crack!
A cascade of frost lit with blood spread outward as he thrust forward. The spear screamed; torrents of blood-ice spiraled from its shaft, flooding the air until the entire battlefield warped into a crimson world.
From this blood sea, a howling storm of serpentine energy coiled into the shape of a dragon—the Ice Blood Jiao, born from the weapon's rage.
Its tail whipped behind it, slicing through the sky as it lunged toward Mo Yu.
The instant its power swept forward, frost spread across the air. In less than a breath, Mo Yu was engulfed by the storm, his body freezing into solid scarlet ice—a crystal statue capturing life at its final breath.
Crash!
But then—the purple-gold light beneath the ice blazed to life. Mo Yu's Divine Arm flared, the power within erupting like a volcano. The blood-ice shattered into shards as he surged free, his aura burning brighter than ever.
Even so, his eyes tightened. That one strike had nearly cost him.
Within the spear's domain, Blood Ming's power had spiked sharply—doubled by the weapon's blessings and now colder, deadlier than ever.
Blood Ming smirked faintly, his tone devoid of empathy. "That was merely a taste. If that's all you've got, you'll die here."
He raised the crimson weapon again. The Blood Jiao Ice Spear floated vertically before him, drawing spiritual power in torrents as its crystalline surface glowed brighter, red deepening into the hue of blood-soaked gemstones.
The sky turned crimson. The air howled.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"He's channeling it fully—this next strike could slay a half-step ninth-rank Supreme!"
When the final rune ignited upon the spear, Blood Ming's eyes flared with predatory intent. He lowered his arm, pointing the deadly spear straight at Mo Yu.
"Blood Jiao Ice Spear—Frozen World!"
The heavens froze. With a sound like worlds breaking, the weapon unleashed a flood of power.
A monstrous Blood Jiao, its body a thousand meters long, materialized from the swirling frost. Its breath alone froze the air, and even those watching from miles away felt their spiritual power stiffen inside their bodies.
One by one, spectators paled. Some trembled outright as their spiritual energy faltered from the residual chill.
"What terrifying might…" someone whispered. "Even a peak eighth-rank would die instantly."
Ferocious laughter erupted among the Blood Jiao clansmen. "It's over. No one survives the Frozen World. That human's luck ends here!"
The Ice Jiao lunged, its roar shattering the silence as it spiraled downward, its bulk blotting out the sun.
Mo Yu exhaled, frost blooming from his lips. Cold seeped into his bones; his skin glittered with thin layers of blood-ice. He looked down, calm and deliberate, as his hand slowly rose to his ear.
Blood Ming sneered. "Giving up?"
But the smirk froze on his face the moment he saw it—Mo Yu's hand drew forth what at first seemed to be a simple black needle.
"What's that?" voices murmured throughout the crowd as the tiny object expanded in Mo Yu's grip, lengthening into a staff of blackened iron—plain and unadorned.
Cai Lin's lips curved faintly. The Primordial Gold-Banded Staff had finally emerged.
Though unimposing, its presence carried a crushing gravity. The pressure alone felt enough to fracture space. Even Mo Yu's shoulders dipped slightly beneath its weight.
Then he flicked a finger.
A surge of power burst outward—liquid light cascading like a river.
The entire audience froze as they realized what they were seeing. The flowing energy shimmering through the air was composed entirely of Supreme Spirit Liquid—millions of drops worth.
Mo Yu inhaled deeply, his aura expanding as he drew it all in. The immense surge of energy filled his meridians; the divine runes across his arm ignited as an unearthly strength coursed through him.
For the first time, the staff felt light in his hands. Alive.
"Parlor tricks," Blood Ming hissed coldly, forcing himself to sneer. "Whatever that stick of yours is, it can't withstand my spear!"
Mo Yu didn't respond. His gaze remained steady, a faint curve tugging at his lips. Then—he moved.
With a single step, his form blurred. Space cracked underfoot as he swung the staff upward in a descending arc.
Boom!
At that moment, all sound vanished.
The black staff cleaved through the air, leaving behind streaks of darkness that shredded the void itself. Those gashes in space absorbed light, matter, and energy alike—the world itself recoiling from the weapon's descent.
The Primordial Gold-Banded Staff smashed downward.
Blood Ming roared, thrusting his spear forward.
Two quasi-sacred artifacts collided.
No explosion, no thunderclap—only silence. The world dimmed as though all existence held its breath.
Then came the crack.
A fissure split the air where they struck. Blood-colored light erupted, and a shockwave tore through the clouds like an expanding sun.
The staff struck true.
It met the thousand-meter Blood Jiao midflight and broke it. The monstrous ice beast shattered, its scales splintering into frozen shards before it detonated entirely. The piercing scream that followed cut through the mountain range—a cry of pain that belonged not to the dragon, but to its master.
Blood Ming's connection to the weapon snapped violently. He was thrown backward through the air, mouth open as a flood of blood erupted outward. For a moment, he seemed weightless—before crashing down, his once-pristine armor painted deep crimson.
The Primordial Staff spun once in Mo Yu's grip before he steadied it, the faintest hum echoing across the shattered heavens.
Victory had fallen silent—save for the faint hiss of melting ice raining into the ruin below.
(END CHAPTER)
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