met free Chapter 1070 The Strongest Warrior
Chapter 1070 The Strongest Warrior
She had so many thanks to say, but the word "challenge" was like a thorn stuck in her mind, pushing all those thanks out of her.
challenge.
She looked down at her hands. Five tails swayed gently behind her, moon energy circulated steadily within her body, and the lake in her dantian was many times deeper than before. She remembered the gray-black wolf demon from five days ago, its speed, strength, and experience; she remembered the humiliation of being sent flying and crashing into the light barrier; she remembered the moment she used her moon energy to blast the wolf demon away; she remembered the slash she made across the wolf demon's shoulder.
That stroke.
Her fingers twitched involuntarily.
The wolf king saw it.
"You've developed your own system," the Wolf King said, not as a question, but as a statement.
Su Wanwan raised her head and looked at the wolf king, whose golden eyes reflected her image. She saw herself in those eyes—a little fox standing straight, five tails spread behind her, moonlight flowing around her, her eyes no longer holding that "I'm ready to run at any moment" vigilance, but instead something quieter and deeper.
She didn't come to thank me.
She came to confirm.
To confirm the extent of my progress over these five days. To confirm whether I have truly put down roots. To confirm whether I can stand firm in the future and not need others to stand in my way.
"Yes," she said, "I'm here for the challenge."
The wolf king lifted its chin from its front paws and slowly stood up. Its ascent was slow, like a mountain rising gently. Its shoulder blades rose two hand-widths above its back, its limbs were as thick as four stone pillars, and its claws, each three inches long, extended from its toes, gleaming with a dark luster in the warm yellow light. Its tail hung low behind it, its tip almost touching the ground.
It was much bigger than Su Wanwan had imagined.
But she did not back down.
The Wolf Dynasty platform glanced down, its gaze settling on the two white wolves standing at the entrance to the passage. It didn't utter a sound, only glancing at the one on the left. Its eyes held no command, but the white wolf on the left immediately tensed, as if waiting for something.
"Qingya," the wolf king called out a name.
The white wolf on the left stood up.
"Come here."
Qingya—the silver-white wolf—emerged from the passageway with steady steps, its tail held horizontally, neither tucked nor curled. It walked to the open space beside the platform, stopped, and turned to face Su Wanwan. Its gray eyes looked at her calmly, without provocation or contempt, only with a professional seriousness, like a martial artist facing an opponent in a ring.
Su Wanwan looked at Qingya, quickly making a judgment in her mind. This wolf was stronger than the gray-black wolf demon she had injured five days ago. Not even in the same league. Its aura was well-controlled, unlike the gray-black wolf demon which flaunted its power throughout the hall. The more restrained the aura, the more dangerous it often was—because it meant that its control had reached a point where it no longer needed to rely on intimidation to deter its opponents.
But she still didn't back down.
She took a step forward, leaving the platform's three-zhang radius, and walked to the center of the open space. The white donkey wanted to follow, but Chu Yang reached out and pressed down on its shoulder—unbeknownst to them, Chu Yang, Sun Wukong, and Tang Sanzang had already come down the stone steps and were standing at the entrance of the passage, watching quietly.
Su Wanwan and Qingya stood facing each other, about two zhang apart.
The air in the underground space became subtle. Warm yellow light poured down from the dome, casting long, intertwined shadows of two white wolves, a brown old wolf, a fox, three people, and a donkey, like an abstract painting that was difficult to decipher.
Qingya made the first move.
Its movements were minimal, with only the tip of its tail slightly tilting upwards, as if signaling something. Su Wanwan didn't know what the signal meant, but her body did. Before she even realized it, her five tails had already reacted—moving a step to the left, just avoiding Qingya's first attack from the right.
Qingya's first attack was a feint.
Its body tilted to the right, as if it was about to pounce from the right, but in the instant Su Wanwan dodged to the left, its hind legs suddenly exerted force, and its entire body twisted at an incredible angle in the air, turning from right to left, and its claws slapped down towards Su Wanwan's shoulder.
Five days ago, Su Wanwan wouldn't have even been able to see this move clearly, let alone dodge it.
But she saw it clearly.
She not only saw it clearly, she understood it. She understood the sequence of force exertion in every muscle of Qingya's body as it twisted in the air—first the hind legs, then the waist, then the front shoulders, the power transmitted from back to front, like a wave pushing from the tip of its tail all the way to the tips of its claws. She understood its power transmission path, and thus she understood its weakness.
In her vision, Qingya was no longer a complete wolf, but a line made up of countless points of light. Those points of light were what she had "seen" during her five days of meditation—the thin, invisible line between the moon's energy and the wolf's energy. Each point of light was a node, and power was transmitted from one node to the next. The connection between the nodes was the weakest point.
She struck the moment the power from the green cliff reached her shoulder joint.
It's not about hiding, it's about welcoming.
She took a step forward, her right hand fingers together, the tip touching Qingya's right foreleg shoulder joint. It wasn't a forceful poke, but a gentle flick, like playing a piano.
Qingya's body froze in mid-air for a mere instant—a moment so brief it was almost negligible, but for a fight at their level, an instant was enough. Its power transmission ceased in that instant, and its claws below the shoulder joint lost their support, slamming down limply, landing on Su Wanwan's shoulder like a fallen leaf, without even wrinkling her clothes.
Qingya stumbled when he landed.
After it steadied itself, it turned its head and looked at Su Wanwan with its gray eyes. The professionalism in its gaze disappeared, replaced by something completely new, something Su Wanwan had never seen before.
Shock.
It wasn't because it was injured. Su Wanwan's shot didn't actually hurt it; it merely interrupted its power transmission at the most precise moment and in the most precise location. This shocked it even more than if it had been injured. Because it meant one thing—this little fox, who had been swatted away by an ordinary wolf demon just five days ago, could now see through its attacks.
It's not about speed or strength, it's about understanding.
She understood how wolves fight.
Qingya gave her no time to catch her breath. It quickly recovered from its shock, its body sinking, its hind legs bending, its entire form like a fully drawn bow. This time, it wouldn't test the waters; it was going to get serious.
It was at least three times faster than before.
In Su Wanwan's vision, Qingya's body turned into a silvery-white afterimage—no, silvery-white is the color of the moonlight. Qingya itself is grayish-white, but when it moved at high speed, the faint silver reflection on its fur was stretched into a line, like a shooting star streaking across the night sky.
She can't see it.
But she could feel it.
It's not about "listening to breath"—listening to breath requires her to actively perceive it, and the perception will lag if the speed is too fast. It's a more direct and essential feeling, like there's an invisible thread connecting her body and Qingya's body, and no matter how the other end of the thread moves, this end can feel it.
This intuition wasn't something she learned.
It was inherited from Yuehua's memories during those five days of meditation.
Yuehua fought the wolf clan for seven years. Seven years of war was enough for a fox demon to etch everything about the wolf clan into her bones—their speed, their strength, their habits, their weaknesses, the change in their eyes the instant before they attacked, the slight twitch of their muscles the moment before they exerted force. These were not knowledge, but instinct.
Su Wanwan did not inherit Yuehua's cultivation level, but rather Yuehua's understanding of the wolf clan.
That's more valuable than any level of cultivation.
The attack from Qingya came from the left. Su Wanwan neither dodged nor evaded, but turned on the spot, her right hand sweeping upwards, her palm touching Qingya's abdomen. Not a strike, but a push. She used a clever trick to push Qingya upwards half a foot, changing its attack trajectory. Qingya's claws grazed past her ear, creating a gust of wind that made the stray hairs at her temples flutter.
Qingya flipped in the air, landed firmly on all fours, and looked back at her.
This time, its eyes completely changed.
It wasn't shock, it was seriousness. It was the kind of seriousness that treats the opponent as an equal. It no longer saw Su Wanwan as a junior who needed to be "tested," but as an opponent worthy of its full effort.
It took a deep breath, its chest expanding, and then slowly exhaled. The exhaled breath condensed into a cloud of white mist in the air. The mist did not dissipate but slowly coalesced in front of it, transforming into the shape of a small wolf—a silver-white wolf exactly like Qingya, only one-third its size.
Su Wanwan's eyes widened.
This is magic. Not a physical attack, not close combat, but a real spell that requires the mobilization of internal power to cast. She had always thought that wolves only used their claws and teeth to fight, but it turns out they weren't incapable of it; they simply disdained to use it on her.
Qingya now feels she deserves it.
The small, silvery-white wolf rose from in front of Qingya, shook its fur, and then charged at Su Wanwan. Its speed was absurd, faster than Qingya's main body, and its smaller size made it even harder to hit. Su Wanwan attacked three times in a row but failed to touch it. It darted around her like a silvery-white eel, each movement leaving a shallow wound on her body—not an attack, but a mark. It was using its aura to mark her location, creating an opportunity for Qingya's main body to attack.
By the time Su Wanwan realized this, Qingya had already made his move.
The main body charges in from the front, while the wolf pups circle around from behind, attacking simultaneously from both sides. This is a standard pincer attack tactic—simple, effective, and without any fancy maneuvers.
She couldn't escape it.
She didn't intend to hide.
She spread all five tails, each reaching out in a different direction like a hand. The first tail wrapped around the wolf cub charging from behind, the second and third tails crossed in front of her, blocking Qingya's claws, and the fourth and fifth tails braced against the ground, propelling her body into the air.
She somersaulted in the air, head down, feet up, and pressed her hands against Qingya's head.
It's not hitting, it's pressing.
She concentrated all her lunar energy in her palm, not by exploding it outwards, but by pressing it downwards. The lunar energy surged from her palm, like a thin layer of ice, covering Qingya's head. Qingya's movements froze instantly—not frozen in place, but its senses were blocked by the lunar energy. It couldn't see, hear, smell, or even perceive its own breath.
A wolf that has lost all its senses is just a lump of meat.
Qingya's body stiffened for two breaths, then went limp. It didn't fall, but its limbs trembled, its tail was tucked between its legs, and its ears were pulled back to their limit. This wasn't fear, it was instinct—losing one's senses is the most terrifying experience for any predator, because it means you've gone from hunter to prey.
Su Wanwan loosened her grip, flipped off Qingya, landed beside it, and took two steps back.
She was panting, her forehead was covered in sweat, and stray hairs at her temples clung to her face. Her hands were trembling slightly—not from fear, but because she had forced out all her lunar energy in that instant, leaving her body completely drained and extremely weak.
But she stood very straight.
Qingya stood still, slowly regaining its senses. Its ears perked up first, then its eyes blinked, and finally its nose twitched twice, catching Su Wanwan's scent in the air. It slowly turned its head, its gray eyes looking at her for a long time.
Then it lowered its head.
It's not submission. It's recognition. A deeper, more respectful recognition than mere recognition.
The underground space was so quiet that you could hear the hum of the light stones on the dome.
The Wolf King stood on the platform, its golden eyes watching the entire process. It didn't move, didn't speak, and didn't even blink. From Qingya's first strike to Su Wanwan's final press, it didn't miss a single detail.
Now, it has finally spoken.
"Qingya is the strongest warrior under 100 years old in our clan."
Its voice was very soft, so soft it sounded like it was talking to itself, but every word clearly reached the ears of everyone present.
"It has fought 371 battles and lost fewer than ten. In the few battles it lost, its opponents were at least twice its age."
It paused for a moment.
The golden eyes looked at Su Wanwan, the smile in their eyes disappeared, replaced by a complex expression that mixed surprise and emotion.
"You are the first person whose level is lower than itss, yet you still managed to defeat it."
Su Wanwan stood there, panting, her hands still trembling, but she understood the weight of the Wolf King's words. It wasn't the weight of "you won," but the weight of "a lower realm defeating a higher realm." In the world of cultivators, this was the most impossible thing to happen. Realm was everything. A four-tailed fox couldn't defeat a five-tailed fox, and a five-tailed fox couldn't defeat a six-tailed fox—this was an ironclad rule, the way of heaven, common sense instilled in all cultivators from day one.
She broke this ironclad rule. (End of Chapter)