# 118
**Chapter 118: Just One Blade**
"AAAAAAHHHH—!!"
A shrill scream tore through the night. The three-blade man and the gaunt fighter both whipped their heads toward the female archer, horror flashing in their eyes.
There… was another enemy?!
Rooftop.
The archer’s pupils had been swallowed by pure black. She knelt in agony, clawing at her scalp as if trying to rip something out of her skull. Blood streamed down her forehead; her mouth gaped wide, vomiting black gore, her skin darkening by the second.
"AAAAAHHH… what… what did you do to me?!!"
She shrieked, glaring up at Lin Qiye.
Lin Qiye studied her suffering, brow creased, fingers stroking his chin.
"Umbral Erosion works poorly on intelligent beings—the smarter the target, the weaker the effect. At my current stage I can barely control cats and dogs; humans are almost immune…"
Suddenly the archer’s eyes blazed. A surge of mental power erupted, driving the night from her gaze like a receding tide.
She sprang up, staggered backward.
Lin Qiye grunted and stumbled several steps, pressing a hand to his throbbing temple.
"Mental force can break the erosion. The higher their realm, the worse the backlash. She’s also in the River Realm—if she were any stronger that pulse would’ve knocked me out… Looks like I can’t risk using Umbral Erosion on people yet."
The archer plummeted straight off the roof, but a former Night Watch member stays nimble even half-dead. Mid-fall she yanked an arrow from her quiver and rammed it into the wall, slowing her drop. Swinging with the momentum, she rolled across the lawn, sprang upright, and in one fluid motion nocked another arrow.
Whoosh—!
The shaft tore through the air with lethal force, streaking straight for Lin Qiye.
Lin Qiye’s brows lifted slightly; he had already read the flight path. He tilted his head a hair’s breadth; the arrow hissed past his ear without touching a single strand of hair.
The archer gaped.
Lin Qiye held the black case in one hand, the other steadying his gentleman’s hat. Wind tugged at his coat; a faint smile curved his lips.
He stepped forward and simply walked off the roof.
No grappling hook, no rope—just free-fall. His toes tapped the wall three times, ghost-like, drifting six stories down to land as softly as a cat jumping from a cupboard.
This was the River Realm’s Starry Dancer.
"Finally… I can jump off buildings too." He remembered chasing the Nanda Snake Demon down school stairs and chuckled at his former clumsiness.
"W-what are you—human or ghost?!" The archer’s scalp crawled. She spun and sprinted into the twisting streets, loosing arrows over her shoulder without breaking stride.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—!
Lin Qiye sidestepped at a leisurely pace, every arrow missing by a comfortable margin.
A hundred-meter Mortal Divine Realm granted perception and dynamic vision far beyond normal; pair that with Starry Dancer and dodging was child’s play.
Gnashing her teeth, the archer drew three arrows at once, firing them in a perfect triangle that sealed every escape route—an iron net of steel.
Lin Qiye pressed his hat brim. Utter darkness exploded outward, freezing the trio of arrows mid-air.
He could catch a hundred missile shards in half a second; three arrows were nothing. A flick of his wrist spun them around and sent them back—though with no bow-string propulsion and his kindergarten-level marksmanship they vanished into the night.
Archer: …
Lin Qiye sighed. He would have to silence her; his terrifying archery genius must never leak.
His thumb brushed the case’s latch. A soft click—an upright Straight Blade popped from the side.
He gripped the hilt.
Shring—!
Steel sang. Blade bared, Lin Qiye’s eyes narrowed. He glided forward, speed skyrocketing.
The archer loosed arrow after arrow; all met only empty air.
Under flickering street-lamps his silhouette drifted like a phantom. A pale-blue streak traced a straight line across the gloom, and in an instant he stood before her.
Her pupils shrank.
A flash of steel. Blood fountained.
Lin Qiye walked past, expressionless, sliding the blade home.
Thud.
The archer collapsed, throat gaping, crimson pooling.
Same River Realm—yet Lin Qiye had needed only one blade, one cut.
The gap wasn’t merely Forbidden Ruins; it was archetype. If the battle between berserker Cao Yuan and the three-blade assassin was a bruiser bullying a rogue, then the archer facing Lin Qiye was a fragile marksman ambushed by an assassin—helpless against overwhelming agility.
As for Baili Pangpang versus the gaunt man… perhaps Doraemon versus Gian.
Lin Qiye picked up his case, tipped his black hat toward the distant explosions, and sighed.
"Now I’ve got to beat that black lunatic back into shape… troublesome."
Hefting two cases, he strode into the night.
…
Several hundred li away, atop another skyscraper, Leng Xuan lowered his sniper scope, watching Lin Qiye disappear. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Not bad."