Eye techniques? This... could this be the legendary eye techniques?!
Snowflakes fell one by one, melting on his forehead as if dripping with cold sweat. The Silverwing assassin lying in the snow opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, his gaze eerily unsettling. Though awake, the snow on his face remained unmelted, and even his breath was icy cold, like a returning ghost.
“This is Soul Stealing.” The assassin pressed his hand against his wound, struggling to sit up against the cedar tree. “You should have heard of the Seventh Young Master of Dingjian Pavilion, right?”
Huo Zhanbai was suddenly startled: although he had traveled incognito, the other party had already recognized his identity.
The assassin smiled faintly, but his eyes were icy: "I was just a hair's breadth away from dying under your Ink Soul Sword."
Huo Zhanbai couldn't answer, because even his voice was frozen in place.
Soul-capturing… such a pupil technique, is it really still passed down in the world?! Wasn't it said that… since the old man of the mountains, Horn, died at the hands of the High Priest of the Moon Worship Cult, Fengya, a hundred years ago, the pupil technique had been lost? I never thought that someone would still possess such an ability today!
"I didn't expect that you also came for that ten-thousand-year-old dragon blood crimson ice pearl... I thought that since Seventh Young Master didn't even want to be the master of Dingjian Pavilion, he must be a transcendent person." The assassin stood up with difficulty, looked at Huo Zhanbai who was pinned to the snow, and suddenly sneered, "Unfortunately, I am also determined to get it."
He turned around, stretched out his palm, and lightly tapped the fir tree behind him.
With a "crack," the old tree bark split open, and a blood-red bead fell into the palm of the hand.
Huo Zhanbai let out a soft "ah," but still couldn't move.
This is it! The Ten-Thousand-Year Dragon Blood Crimson Frost Pearl—during the fierce battle just now, when did he hide the pearl in the tree behind him? Qiu Shui, she… she was waiting for this to save Mo'er's life! She can't die here… she absolutely can't die here.
However, no matter how much he struggled, his body remained immobilized as if hypnotized, suppressed by a powerful mental force. Under that cold, dark gaze, even his consciousness was gradually swallowed up, and Huo Zhanbai's eyes slowly became unfocused.
How... how could there be such sorcery?
How can such a young assassin possess the oppressive aura of a demonic cult elder?
The silver-clad assassin coughed, his voice soft and cold. Although he had the upper hand, his subordinates were almost entirely wiped out, and his own strength was at its limit. Along the way, he had first seized the Dragon Blood Pearl from the various heroes of the Qilian Mountains, and then constantly encountered ambushes and pursuits on his westward journey. Now, in the fir forest, he had encountered this foremost swordsman of the Central Plains!
He breathed heavily, and a throbbing pain began to throb in his head. Eye techniques consumed a great deal of spiritual energy; if this continued, his headaches would likely flare up again. He said no more, and slowly raised his hand in the wind and snow—
As he raised his hand, Huo Zhanbai on the ground mechanically raised the same hand as well, like a puppet being pulled by strings.
"Remember this: My name is 'Hitomi'."
The eyes behind the mask were cold, with a pale blue hue like ice.
Huo Zhanbai was slightly shocked: Tong? The mysterious assassin ranked first in the Great Bright Palace of the Demonic Sect?
—The Demonic Sect has actually come to Qilian Mountain to compete for this Dragon Blood Pearl!
The Great Bright Palace, located in the Western Kunlun Mountains, is the sworn enemy of the Central Plains martial arts world. It has five Mingzi, three Holy Maidens, and the Shura Field, which is divided into three realms. The Shura Field is full of assassins. Hundreds of years ago, the founder of the Dingjian Pavilion, Young Master Shuye, came from its school. For centuries, the Shura Field has produced many elites, which has always amazed the Central Plains martial arts world, and they also regard it as a great threat.
The person in front of me, Tong, is the top figure among the assassins in the current Shura Field, known as one in a hundred years.
—In that instant, Huo Zhanbai realized what a huge mistake he had made due to his momentary carelessness!
Tong's hand slowly turned, approaching her neck, and a cold light shone from her glassy eyes.
Huo Zhanbai's eyes revealed the intensity of his resistance, yet his body, restrained by the pupil technique, still moved against his will. His hand, controlled by an invisible force, mimicked the pupil's movements, gripping the Ink Soul and inching closer to his throat.
Snowhawk, Snowhawk! He called out in his heart. It's been gone so long, why hasn't it returned yet?
"Goodbye, Seventh Young Master." Tong slowly moved her hand to her throat, a sinister smile appearing in her eyes. Suddenly, she flipped her wrist and made a sharp throat-slitting motion!
Involuntarily, the ink spirit drew a sharp line of light, cutting back towards the holder's throat.
"Gah—" Suddenly, a sharp cry came from the snow, cutting through the cold wind.
Tong gasped softly, unable to dodge in time, when a sharp pain shot through her hand. Crimson blood flowed down her hand, quickly freezing into a bead of ice.
A white bird flew through the wind and snow, suddenly attacking him and piercing his hand with its sharp beak.
Then, like a white rainbow, it landed on Huo Zhanbai's shoulder.
It was… a hawk? Despite being caught off guard by the attack, Tong remained calm, breathing heavily as she clutched her wound, her gaze never leaving the other's eyes. As long as he didn't dispel the spell, Huo Zhanbai still couldn't escape.
However, even though he never relaxed his mental suppression of Huo Zhanbai, the stiff human figure on the snow suddenly moved!
It was as if the power within him had awakened, beginning to vie for control of the body against the external forces. Huo Zhanbai gritted his teeth, his hand moving inch by inch, deflecting the Ink Soul Sword that was slashing towards his throat.
This time, it was Hitomi's turn to look horrified.
How is this possible! The person being controlled has already been hit head-on by the Soul-Seizing Technique, yet they are still able to resist!
Without a second thought, knowing he couldn't give his opponent a chance to breathe, Assassin Tong immediately lunged forward, his short sword aimed at the opponent's heart. However, with a "clang," blood was drawn from his hand again.
The Ink Soul Sword was positioned in time to block Tong's attack.
The snow on the ground was kicked up by the sword energy, obscuring the two people's vision. The force of the impact was too much for Tong's already severely injured body to bear. The eerie light in his eyes instantly vanished, and he flew backward more than three zhang away. A gushing of blood spurted from his shattered chest, blooming into large red flowers in the snow. His body then remained still.
The Dragon Blood Pearl flew out of his hand and disappeared into the snow several feet away.
Huo Zhanbai staggered to his feet, covered in snowflakes, breathing heavily.
The snow hawk was still perched on his shoulder, its sharp beak piercing his Jianjing acupoint, sinking about an inch deep. It was this timely peck from the spirit bird that had just broken the paralysis in his body with the intense pain, allowing him to block Tong's final attack in time.
It's finally over.
He used his sword for support, staggered over, bent down and groped in the snow, finally grasping the dragon blood bead. His vision was still blurry, not just from snowflakes, but also from many fine, swirling lights, as if some afterimage was constantly emerging, chaotically obscuring his view—what...what is this? Is it the residual effect of his eye technique?
He gripped the bead tightly, still wanting to confirm his opponent's death, but a gust of wind blew by, and he, exhausted, almost fell in the wind.
"Caw!" The snow hawk pulled out its blood-stained beak and let out a sharp cry.
I understand—it's urging me to leave immediately and head to Medicine Master Valley.