Chapter Twenty-Nine: Slaying the Steel-Spine Beast (Third Update)

After a night of relentless effort, Liang Jing had now mastered the combination of dodging and blade attacks, unleashing a power far greater than the sum of its parts. He moved ceaselessly around the Steel-Spined Beast, his body agile and full of strength, pushing his physical abilities to the limit and achieving remarkable effects in battle. After all, with strength so evenly matched, life and death hung by a thread—one slow move, and death could claim him.

Whoosh!

Instead of retreating, Liang Jing advanced, swiftly sidestepping so that the beast’s saber-like fangs passed within mere centimeters of his body. Yet those scant centimeters might as well have been a chasm, leaving the Steel-Spined Beast incapable of inflicting the slightest harm.

“Strike!”

Liang Jing brought his short blade down from above in a rapid, fierce diagonal slash. The blade sang with a sharp, urgent sound as it cut through the air. Sensing danger, the Steel-Spined Beast roared in terror, unleashing its full strength to dodge Liang Jing’s lightning-fast attack. But his blade was too swift; only the sound of its impact upon the beast’s body could be heard.

Thump!

“Alas...”

He missed reopening the old wound on its neck, leaving instead a fresh cut over a centimeter deep and more than ten centimeters long nearby. Blood streamed out. The short blade was spent, weary from battle, and Liang Jing’s heart burned with even greater anticipation for Baroque’s Sorrow.

The Steel-Spined Beast howled in pain—though the wound wasn’t deep, it hurt, and the force of the attack made it shudder and pause.

Bang!

Just then, a vermilion fireball, more than ten centimeters in diameter, flew swiftly through the air and struck the beast’s head, exploding on contact. Yang Yuyuan, who had been quietly preparing his Fireball Spell, seized the opening as the beast exposed a weakness and attacked.

A smoky odor and the stench of burning flesh rose from the beast’s scorched forehead. Its steel-like bristles were singed, the fur charred and blackened, and the fireball had stripped away a layer of skin and flesh, leaving a deep, blackened wound from which blood rolled in heavy drops.

Driven mad with pain and rage, the Steel-Spined Beast, instead of being dazed by the spell, grew even more berserk, focusing its death-defying assault solely on Liang Jing. It attacked with reckless abandon, forsaking defense, and Liang Jing could only fend off its relentless onslaught, growing ever more desperate.

The agony intensified for Liang Jing. His whole body burned, his head spun, exhaustion gripped him—worse than three sleepless nights compounded by fever and a runny nose. His reactions slowed, and faced with the beast’s wild attacks, he could do little but defend.

Time crawled by. The sun had begun to rise over the horizon, and inside the house, Liang Jing was growing ever more haggard.

His body had been grazed several times by the beast’s attacks. Even clad in leather armor, the blows broke through, leaving him badly wounded; his abdomen bore a gash nearly twenty centimeters long, still bleeding—luckily not deep enough to expose his organs. His face was scratched, blood seeping from his lips, all despite his best efforts to dodge at critical moments.

He had left several wounds on the beast in return, deepening the original gash, so that blood gushed out even more fiercely.

Yang Yuyuan, noticing the dire situation and the beast’s disregard for him, released a barrage of fireballs, repeatedly striking the beast’s head. The beast’s skull was exposed, and perhaps its brain had been cooked by the heat, yet it remained ferocious and savage.

The tenacity of mutated creatures was truly astonishing!

A low, mournful cry escaped the Steel-Spined Beast as it bled profusely, its head grievously injured. It abandoned Liang Jing and lunged at Yang Yuyuan, finally sick of his persistent, fly-like attacks. It exploded forward, its limbs propelling it with savage speed, bringing a stench of blood and a wave of brutality.

“Perfect chance!”

Seeing the beast turn, Liang Jing instantly switched from slashing to stabbing with his short blade. He drove his foot into the ground, his hips twisting, spine undulating like a great dragon, transferring fierce power into his arm and thrusting the blade toward the beast’s wounded neck.

Rip—

The tip of the blade emerged on the far side of the beast’s neck, but it didn’t halt its attack. The beast was making a desperate, last-ditch charge, dragging Liang Jing along to one side as it continued toward Yang Yuyuan. Yet, pierced by Liang Jing’s blade, it seemed to deflate, weakening and slowing.

Yang Yuyuan had no time to react. Having cast six consecutive Fireball Spells, his head throbbed and spun, dulling his movements.

He had rarely fought up close; the beast had only ever chased Liang Jing, never paying him any mind. The sudden change caught him unprepared.

“Dodge!”

Seeing Yang Yuyuan freeze, Liang Jing shouted desperately as he tumbled across the floor.

The shout jolted Yang Yuyuan from his stupor. He saw a massive shadow bearing down on him. With no time to think, he instinctively ducked and protected his head. Darkness swept over him—he was struck hard, sent flying into the wall, where he collapsed and lost consciousness.

The Steel-Spined Beast, too, crashed into the wall, its limbs suddenly unable to support it. It crumpled to the ground, twitching and struggling. But the blade embedded in its neck only widened the wound as it thrashed, blood gushing out recklessly.

Watching its death throes, Liang Jing, despite his agony, hurried forward, seized the hilt of the short blade, and dragged it downward, enlarging the wound with the friction between steel and flesh.

Liang Jing’s actions were swift and precise; he retreated immediately, easily evading the beast’s final, vengeful outburst. Then he closed in once more.

“Ugh...ugh...”

The Steel-Spined Beast uttered crazed, weak howls of pain.

“Die!”

Liang Jing shifted directions three times, confusing the beast’s dying senses, dodged another attack, and, with agile, rapid footwork, unleashed a fierce slash with all his strength. The blade flashed cold and deadly.

Squish!

The cut fell upon the beast’s massive neck wound. The first twelve centimeters sunk in easily, then resistance increased, then diminished—the short blade cleaved nearly two-thirds of the way through its neck. Liang Jing swiftly withdrew the blade and leapt back.

Blood gushed forth like water from a ditch, forming a crimson circle on the floor.

A shrill howl—

The Steel-Spined Beast convulsed, its limbs kicking wildly, then suddenly sprang toward Liang Jing in a last, violent charge, finally collapsing and growing still. Its cries faded, and it moved no more.

Liang Jing was struck by the beast’s final, frenzied assault, knocked to the ground amid a spray of blood, and did not rise again.

He lay in the pool of blood, gazing at the beast’s corpse, its head nearly severed, the flow of blood slowing—the beast would soon bleed out, for it had lost much over the course of the battle.

He had no desire to move. The endless combat of the night had left him utterly exhausted, mind and body alike. Especially the final battle with the Steel-Spined Beast—its intensity had demanded utmost concentration, and now he couldn’t even muster the will to move, even as the blood pooled at his ears, an overwhelming fatigue engulfing him.

At that moment, a large mass of pale, milky spiritual light emerged from the beast’s body, invisible to all but Liang Jing, and streamed into him. His body trembled; his once-dull eyes seemed to shine a little brighter.