Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty Eight - Fantasy Flame Tornado
Pu Yao greedily absorbed the Golden Souls. In the battle between him and Wei, he held the advantage, but he also had expended himself greatly. The two Golden Souls the Chief Elder of the Grey Clan had delivered were a rain that came at the right time. He unhesitatingly stole them from Zuo Mo's hand. Zuo Mo did not stop him. He had probably guessed that it would be impossible to prevent.
The golden mist permeated Pu Yao's body at a visible rate. Pu Yao showed a satisfied expression. However, a portion of the golden mist drifted towards Wei. Even though it was just a quarter, Pu Yao was still slightly discontent.
However, he had no solution to this problem. Just like no matter how much he found this false gentleman an eyesore, he was not able to kill the other. There was a direction connection between his three thousand years of survival in the Yao Forging Tower and this strange wretched armor. Wei was the armor spirit of this wretched armor. Pu Yao was about the same, but he was not restricted by the armor.
He had worked his mind for three thousand years to try to take over this gravestone armor. But this gravestone armor was a closed system and extremely strange.
However, when he thought about how this false gentleman was unable to shrink back into the turtle shell, Pu Yao couldn't help but be smug. Anyway about it, he was a Sky Yao. He understood all kinds of obscure methods, and he finally found a few that were effective.
From a certain perspective, he and Wei shared an existence. The two could not destroy each other. Pu Yao could not even absorb the Golden Souls completely by himself. There definitely would be a portion which Wei would absorb. Even though Pu Yao clearly held the more powerful position, there was nothing for him to feel happy about. Even if this false gentleman had an extraordinary background, but in the eyes of Pu Yao, whose eyes were on the top of his head, this was a very low thing.
A piece of armor sitting in a position equal to his ... ... this was too motherf***ing displeasing to ge!
Having finished absorbing the Golden Soul, Pu Yao's hair became even darker and shinier, and his bloody pupil had an additional sheen. The snake-like tongue unconsciously licked his lips with lingering hunger. He glanced at Wei who was sitting cross-legged. He could see that the Golden Soul was also of significant help to Wei.
A cold smirk floated at the corner of Pu Yao's mouth. After three thousand years together, he understood his neighbor very well. Even if this guy agreed to not pass mo skills to Zuo Mo, he would not give up so easily.
However, Wei definitely would not think that his scant words that day had inspired great trust in Pu Yao .
To a person as perverse as Pu Yao, the inspiration brought by the most minuscule hint could change too many things.
Just wait and see!
Pu Yao narrowed his eyes.
Zuo Mo stared at Mo Ru Huo and was slightly surprised. A person that looked so rough used such strange yao arts. Yao really could not be judged based on their appearances.
Mo Ru Huo shivered under Zuo Mo's stare. Zuo Mo's silence pressured him. What should he say at this time?
"Sorry, I got the wrong person?" Or "Brother, I've long heard of you, give your little brother mercy!" Or just run away immediately ... ...
Various thoughts formed in the pitiful Mo Ru Huo's mind. He did not think of resisting at all. Even if he was facing Yu Zi Zhou, he definitely would not be so nervous. Yu Zi Zhou was stronger than him but he believed if he gritted his teeth and did not fear death, he would have a chance at survival. He felt that in terms of viciousness, the great majority of geniuses could not compare to him.
But facing Xiao Mo Ge, no matter if they competed on strength or viciousness, he thought he had no chance at all.
What made him want to cry the was that he had been the one to instigate this matter! He really was seeking death! He wanted to slap himself. Such an idiotic matter had happened to him! All of the fighters of the yao world were trying to avoid this brute right now, and he had pushed himself in front of the other ... ...
Even he knew that the bounties of the yao markets for Xiao Mo Ge were continuously decreasing. The yao that had been wanting to watch a spectacle were really frightened this time. Vicious and savage, bloodthirsty and murderous, this kind of presence wasn't something a yao with clean hands could have. The consciousness could not be faked.
On this point, almost all the yao had come to an unusual consensus.
Xiao Mo Ge was a lawless brute whose hands were drenched in blood!
The elders of those students ordered them to stop their actions against Xiao Mo Ge, and some over zealous students were put under house arrest by their clan, unable to leave. The Ji Family and the Blue Flower Family kept low key and clearly did not want any further incidents. Even the Genius Alliance which was usually loud-spoken collectively lost their voice.
They had enough privilege, enough strength, but none were willing to provoke a lawless brute. Even more so a lawless brute who was so young but had such power. Some experienced yao discussed secretly among themselves suggesting that if Xiao Mo Ge could live for another twenty years, then the yao world would have another butcher.
Just as Mo Ru Huo was thinking what to do, Xiao Mo Ge suddenly spoke.
"You left behind the yao art imprint on Cang Lin?"
Mo Ru Huo's heart shook once. This was the classic interrogation! Zuo Mo's words destroyed the last lingering thread of hope inside. Mo Ru Huo was truly a vicious person. The desperate situation provoked his viciousness. He raised his head and said harshly, "Yes! I left it!"
Zuo Mo made sure and so he did not hesitate. A few little yao arts smashed from his hands towards Mo Ru Huo.
As they started to fight, Mo Ru Huo started to calm down and settled to receive Zuo Mo's attacks. After a few rounds, he quickly found that Xiao Mo Ge did not have the unstoppable presence he had in the yao recording arts. His attacks could not be considered strong. However, Mo Ru Huo was very battle-experienced. His murderousness was usually high, but he was cautious when he fought.
After standing up for twenty more breaths, Xiao Mo Ge was still as soft as water and did not pose too much of a threat. At this time, Mo Ru Huo finally relaxed completely and his attacks increased.
Mo Ru Huo's yao art was extremely unique. His hands would continuously flick and swipe at the space in front of him as he was surrounded by dancing flames. The flames in the air floated along to strange paths. It was as though there were invisible threads in front of him that pulled the flames surrounding him.
Zuo Mo randomly threw out a little yao art and stopped a thread of flame. A feeling of danger rose. He did not hesitate and saw a blade of flame brush past his scalp. There was no time for him to dodge as a spear of flame jumped up and pointed straight at his stomach.
Zuo Mo's legs crossed, and the fingers of his left hand flicked. A little yao art accurately hit the flame spear and caused it to divert from its path. However, Mo Ru Huo's attack did not stop, and became even fiercer! The flames surrounding him were not just able to dance and attack to his will, but could transform into all kinds of attack forms.
It was the first time that Zuo Mo encountered a yao art as strange as this. His actions were uncoordinated and he made a somewhat sorry figure.
Mo Ru Huo saw this and his morale rose. He guessed that Xiao Mo Ge's golden yellow armor probably had some special restriction. Another possibility was that Xiao Mo Ge had been wounded last time. Otherwise, he should not be refraining from using the armor.
Thinking about it this way, the terror in Mo Ru Huo's heart retreated. Xiao Mo Ge's situation was not uncommon. Those yao arts that were wondrously powerful usually had stringent requirements, or one had to pay a weighty price.
If it was like that, then this was undoubtedly the time where Xiao Mo Ge was the weakest!
Was this a chance given by the heavens?
Thinking about this brute that shook all of the yao world being abused under his hands, a feeling of exhilaration that he never had before filled his body. His body was even trembling from his excitement! Such a wonderful matter! A matter that he didn't even dare to think of was happening in front of him. The extreme terror and the hopelessness from before decreased. The stimulation and pleasure produced almost consumed him. In this kind of wondrous situation, his state reached the highest peak of his life. The yao art that he had just had a breakthrough with did not seem raw in his hands and was confidently executed. Each yao art was carried out instinctively, so perfect that he felt this was a pleasurable experience!
Zuo Mo felt as though he had suddenly landed in a flaming hurricane. All kinds of fire yao arts covered the skies and earth as they shot at him. Even worse, he had no room to dodge. The other's yao arts spread out, and their presence was bigger than Zuo Mo imagined.
However, Zuo Mo was not panicking. His figure looked sorry, but both his expression and his gaze had was dead still.
The light on his hands never stopped. To him, little yao arts were as simple as breathing. Sometimes it was one light, sometimes many. Five hundred kinds of little yao arts formed from the many combinations in his hands. These little yao art combinations either guided or stopped. Zuo Mo would frequently find the smallest space and use them to dodge repeatedly.
The flame hurricane continuously strengthened!
Looking at Xiao Mo Ge who was in a sorry state under his yao arts, Mo Ru Huo felt extremely smug. The longer his [Fantasy Flame Tornado] persisted, the more powerful it was. It would continuously strengthen itself, and the amount of spiritual power he expended would not change greatly.
The longer this battle dragged out, the more advantageous it was for him.
As expected, Xiao Mo Ge became even more harried. There were a few wounds on his body.
Even though it was just a few small wounds, Mo Ru Huo could not help but roar with laughter. "Xiao Mo Ge! Struggle! Experience such wonderful yao arts! Haha! Ooh, another wound, so pitiful!"
Mo Ru Huo started to play his favorite game of cat and mouse. Looking at Xiao Mo Ge who was holding on in the tornado, he did not want to miss any scene.
"Tsk tsk! Really hardy! As expected of Xiao Mo Ge! Such beautiful movements! Come on! Let's have another one! Haha!"
Mo Ru Huo laughed freely.
Inside the tornado, Zuo Mo was silent as he withstood with effort. But Mo Ru Huo did not notice that the lights on Zuo Mo's dangling hands were slowly changing.
Translator Ramblings: Anyone want to compute how many possible combinations of the little yao arts are possible? There's probably an upper limit to how many yao arts can be used in a string.
There was a comment about Nan Yue and the little yao arts that WanderingGummiOfDoom informed me about. The knowledge that Pu Yao taught Zuo Mo who then taught Nan Yue is technically "secret." Some of you think that Nan Yue should keep it a secret rather than teaching her clansmen. The other side of the matter is that Nan Yue is strengthening Zuo Mo because her clan will grow stronger and then they can be of help to Zuo Mo. I think this is actually a pretty interesting problem and we have been infected so much by Pu Yao and Zuo Mo pricing knowledge and skills that we want Zuo Mo to get something out of it.
However, if we look at Zuo Mo's actions in the past, he doesn't price knowledge and expect a great deal when he shares his own knowledge. In this case, little yao arts was a freebie he got from Pu Yao. In the past, he has shared his forging knowledge and also his sword formation with his camps. So he doesn't have a problem with sharing at all. Pu Yao thinks this is simple stuff so he doesn't have a problem either. Therefore, I don't think Nan Yue actually "broke" any rules in sharing. Things might be different for the mo but yao and mo might be similar. Pu Yao has mentioned in the past that mo would work for their generals/leaders who will reward them with techniques they could give back to their clan. This might be one of those cases.