Chapter 143: Battle Between Experts

The male snake-man's complexion was as heavy as iron, dark and glossy.

The green scarf at Old Ye's mouth fluttered gently in the strong wind. With his eyes fixed on this pair of elderly snake-men, his expression was completely unreadable.

"You—" Finally, after a moment of silence, the disgruntled male snake-man spoke first, breaking the oppressive stillness:

"Aren't you already dead?"

His voice was very aged, as if weathered by countless vicissitudes, yet it resonated with abundant vitality.

Old Ye gave a soft, mocking chuckle, his tone laced with a hint of disdain as he replied, "How could I die so easily? If I were dead, wouldn't you be terribly sad? After all, you and I still have an unsettled score between us."

The male snake-man let out a long sigh, the displeasure on his face fading away to reveal his pale complexion once more. He rubbed his tightly furrowed brow with his hand, and his weathered voice rang out:

"Indeed, the score between the two of us is far from settled."

With that, he raised his head to look at Old Ye. That face, carved by the years, was filled with hardship and resolve; the eyes, worn by the passage of time, remained as sharp and piercing as ever. His triangular black pupils were profoundly deep and mysterious. Had it not been for his white hair and beard, others would have taken him for a man of only thirty or forty. He looked Old Ye over for a moment, and suddenly noticed that Old Ye was actually tucking someone under his arm. Who could it be? None other than the unconscious Lu Zhe.

He frowned, looking deeply puzzled as to why Old Ye would have someone tucked under his arm. Reaching out to point at Lu Zhe, he asked doubtfully, "Who is he?"

Hearing this, Old Ye glanced sideways at the unconscious Lu Zhe and replied with utter calmness, "My disciple."

The moment the word 'disciple' left his lips, the male snake-man's expression changed drastically. The pale-as-paper face instantly flushed with surging blood, turning as red as burning charcoal. With eyes wide with fury, he let out a roar toward the sky and struck out at Old Ye with a palm heavy with internal energy from his right hand.

This sudden turn of events did not cause Old Ye the slightest bit of panic. Feeling the incoming palm force, Old Ye did not even twitch his brow as he countered with a palm strike of his own with his backhand.

The two powerful palm forces collided violently in mid-air, producing a thunderous explosion. The snake-men below hurriedly covered their ears and retreated, terrified of being caught in the shockwave.

As the residual force dissipated, Old Ye twitched his brow and said with a hint of surprise, "It has been a long time, yet your palm strength has grown considerably stronger."

Veins bulged on the male snake-man's forehead, his eyes bloodshot as he stared malevolently at Old Ye. Gritting his teeth, he said word by word, "Old Ye, today I shall take your disciple's life as a sacrifice to my own disciple's departed spirit!" With that, he let out another long howl, flipped backward to draw a purple wooden snake staff from nowhere, and lunged at Old Ye.

Just as he darted toward Old Ye like lightning, an arm suddenly grabbed his leg, halting him dead in his tracks.

"Old woman, what are you doing?" The male snake-man turned around and rebuked angrily.

The female snake-man did not speak, merely shaking her head at him. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and desolation, but her grip on his hand did not loosen.

Seeing this, Old Ye's eyes rolled slightly as he said, "What's wrong? Are you not going to avenge your beloved disciple?"

Hearing these words, the male snake-man gritted his teeth and struggled a few times. Realizing the female snake-man had no intention of letting go, he hardened his heart, raised the purple wooden snake staff in his hand, and struck at her gripping hand.

Watching the incoming snake staff, the female snake-man finally understood that she could never stem the tide of his fury. With a sigh, she released her hold.

The moment she let go, the male snake-man kicked off with his right foot. His body moved with lightning speed, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared right before Old Ye.

Standing right in front of Old Ye, the fury on the snake-man's face intensified until his eyeballs nearly popped out. Gritting his teeth, he brought the purple wooden snake staff down upon Old Ye from above.

"Clang."

A soft metallic sound rang out three inches above Old Ye's forehead. The purple wooden snake staff stopped three inches short of his head—not because he had stopped it himself, but because it had been blocked by a hard object, a long, silvery thing.

Lu Zhe's Falling Mystery Cudgel!

At that moment, Old Ye held Lu Zhe's Falling Mystery Cudgel in his right hand, blocking the male snake-man's staff. Looking at the wide-eyed snake-man, a flash of amusement suddenly crossed Old Ye's eyes as he asked, "Why aren't you moving?"

The muscles around the corners of the male snake-man's eyes twitched over his rough skin. With a mid-air somersault, he leaped back a dozen feet and landed outside.

Old Ye swung the cudgel with casual flair, staring at the male snake-man and provoking him, "Come on, keep going."

Hearing Old Ye's provocative tone, the male snake-man let out a fierce snort. Gripping the purple wooden snake staff tightly, he thrust it forcefully into empty space, his body soaring into the air once again as he lunged at Old Ye.

Old Ye gave a light hum, waved the Falling Mystery Cudgel once more, and prepared to parry the incoming attack.

A rapid series of clashing sounds erupted between the two. As the snake staff and iron cudgel twisted and danced, violent gusts of wind blew in all directions, roaring so fiercely that they scattered the white clouds across the sky.

The male snake-man had already exchanged more than forty blows with Old Ye. No matter how he attacked during these exchanges, Old Ye always managed to anticipate his target a step ahead, using the cudgel to block his strikes or smoothly dodging them.

Watching Old Ye's unhurried composure, the male snake-man grew furious and anxious. The man was standing right there within arm's reach, yet forget about injuring him—the purple wooden snake staff hadn't even managed to graze his collar. How could he not be furious, how could he not be anxious? The attacks of his snake staff grew faster and deadlier with every stroke, yet no matter what, he simply could not hurt Old Ye.

As it turned out, whenever he thrust his staff forward in an attempt to take Old Ye's life, he would subconsciously mirror Old Ye's movements. If Old Ye shifted left, his staff would follow to the left; if Old Ye shifted right, it would follow to the right. However, Old Ye's shifts were merely feints—he hadn't actually moved at all. Thus, every single thrust the male snake-man made missed its mark. Though his dozens of blows were all lethal killer moves, at the very last fraction of a second, they all dissolved into empty feints.

Gritting his teeth fiercely, the male snake-man thrust his purple wooden snake staff straight toward Old Ye's chest. He had made up his mind that no matter what happened this time, he would not alter his attack midway.

He saw Old Ye's left shoulder twitch slightly, as if turning to dodge.

In battles between supreme experts, success depended on observing the minutest details and perceiving things as clearly as a blazing fire. As the old saying went: before the enemy moves, I move first; when the enemy is about to move, I have already moved. The male snake-man was also an elite veteran of countless battles, and naturally understood this principle. His eyesight was extraordinarily sharp, and no matter how slight the opponent's movement, it could never escape his notice.

Yet precisely because of this, he had fallen for Old Ye's trap dozens of times before, throwing empty thrusts. Therefore, this time he resolved that no matter how Old Ye moved, he would turn a blind eye to it. This single staff strike would not be altered midway; he would pierce straight through Old Ye's chest like lightning.

To his surprise, this time Old Ye's body actually spun around in a full circle. The male snake-man's purple wooden snake staff grazed right past Old Ye's chest, missing him completely once again.

By the time he realized something was amiss and tried to change his move, it was already too late. Old Ye's strike was as fast as lightning; an iron cudgel slammed straight into his abdomen, sending him flying dozens of feet away!

The male snake-man tumbled over and over in the air several times before finally halting his momentum. The moment he steadied himself, he suddenly doubled over and vomited a mouthful of fresh blood.

Looking down at the half-kneeling male snake-man, Old Ye let out a soft, cold snort and said, "Decades have passed, and your strength has indeed increased significantly. But even now, you remain stuck at the Spirit Monarch stage. Your cultivation must have hit a bottleneck, hasn't it?"

The male snake-man coughed a few times, clutched his stomach as he stood up, and glared at Old Ye. Hearing those words, his eyebrows suddenly twitched, an expression of utter disbelief crossing his face. His body even began to tremble slightly as he stammered in shock, "Could it be... you... you have already... you have already advanced to the Spirit Venerable realm?!"