Heroines, I'm Really not the Devourer
Chapter 59: Sun Wukong vs Qing Long

Chapter 59: Sun Wukong vs Qing Long

With a flick of her wrist, she conjured spears of light that shot towards him with terrifying speed. BaiShe bent his body, dodging the first few, but at the last moment, Yuying made a barely perceptible movement with the tip of her fingers.

The projectiles abruptly changed course.

He just had time to pivot to the side. A spear violently pierced his left shoulder. Pain exploded in his nerves, a burning heat radiating through his entire arm. Before the other impacts could pierce him, a force emerged at his side.

A palm sliced through the air, sending the remaining projectiles flying in a shower of golden shards.

BaiShe turned his head.

’Hu Zhen?’

"Why not protect your sister instead, old man?"

"You’re really getting weirder and weirder. Do you have time to make jokes?"

He stood before him, his gaze dark and grave.

"Young master. You cannot fight her, she is far too powerful." He sighed.

BaiShe inhaled sharply, his hand clenched on his wound. Blood flowed slowly, starkly contrasting with the blinding golden glow of the devastated terrain around them.

"I don’t know, but..."

His words hung in the air. He felt this fight was unlike any other. It was not just a confrontation between two cultivators. There was something else, a force he did not control, driving him.

"Young master?" Yuying seemed surprised before her expression returned to normal.

Hu Zhen placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"They are from the Cloud Dynasty. If this situation escalates and you are killed, it could provoke a large-scale conflict."

He sighed inwardly, aware that even if he survived, he could not avoid her wrath.

’And especially if he died here, the Matriarch would not even grant him the luxury of eternal rest. So I had to leave Ling’er in a bad position.’

His gaze fell once more on Yuying.

Her golden eyes gleamed, half her face hidden by a veil, in perfect contrast with the voluptuous shape of her body draped in elegant armor. Her long black hair floated slightly under the effect of the residual energy around them.

"I don’t know what you’re doing here," he declared, catching his breath, "but you’ll soon regret it."

Yuying did not respond immediately. Her expression remained unchanged.

Then, in a fluid motion, she raised her hands.

A bow appeared between her fingers, formed of twisted branches and glowing gold. It seemed woven from pure light, vibrating with an incandescent energy that extended far beyond its physical structure.

An overwhelming pressure filled the air.

BaiShe felt his heart skip a beat.

Behind her, arms of pure golden light burst from her body.

Between these arms, a dense cluster of luminous projectiles began to form. Each arrow shone with a burning radiance, vibrating like the sun ready to explode.

The mere presence of this attack made the ground beneath their feet tremble.

Hu Zhen stepped back slightly, his eyes widening with fear.

"Young master... Leave!"

"You too are no match for me," Yuying finally declared, her voice filled with absolute certainty.

Around her, the light intensified.

’Holy Sage!’

***

On Qing Long’s side

All around, cultivators had scattered like leaves swept by the wind, fleeing the clash between two titanic powers. Some, unable to withstand the crushing pressure of the colliding auras, had collapsed, unconscious, their souls on the brink of collapse. For those without powerful lineages, the mere presence of energy of this intensity could be fatal. In the chaos that reigned, one fact was undeniable: there were indeed beings here capable of destroying worlds with a single gesture.

Not far away, barely fifty meters distant, Qing Long saw BaiShe being mercilessly crushed by the Qilin. The sight was almost embarrassing to watch.

But he had no time to analyze the situation further.

A mocking voice echoed behind him.

"It’s insulting to turn your gaze from your opponent."

Qing Long turned his head just in time to see Sun Wukong twirling his golden staff with a sneering smile. The weapon seemed to breathe with him, stretching and contracting.

"What do you want?" Qing Long asked, wary.

"There’s nothing left to say." Wukong struck his staff against his shoulder, a playful glint in his eyes. "You hurt my little sister... and I’m here to put you in your place."

Qing Long did not respond immediately. He knew this type of person. A confident warrior, convinced he was right, and above all, convinced of his superiority. Wukong had not come for a balanced confrontation; he had come to correct him, to punish him.

Qing Long narrowed his eyes.

"You’re sure you know everything, huh? You think I’m an idiot manipulated by a demon, that I humiliated your sister, and you’re probably here to restore her honor?"

Wukong snickered, pointing his staff at him.

"You’ve got it all figured out! Well, for a little punk like you, that’s already an achievement."

The next instant, he vanished.

Qing Long felt a vibration in the air. His instinct screamed.

He pivoted just in time to see the staff emerge from nowhere. He crossed his arms to absorb the impact, but it knocked the wind out of him.

His body was thrown backward, dragging for several meters before coming to a brutal stop. He got back up, his blood boiling.

Wukong did not wait. He leaped toward him at a staggering speed, his staff slicing through the air. Qing Long dodged just in time, but a burst of energy struck him, tearing up the ground beneath him.

’Fast!’ Qing Long admitted calmly despite the pain radiating from his arm.

"You’re tougher than I thought," Wukong replied with a carnivorous smile. "But let’s see how long you last."

The golden staff suddenly lengthened, thickening until it became as wide as a tree trunk. Wukong spun it with astonishing force, transforming the weapon into a tornado of destruction.

Qing Long narrowed his eyes. He could not yet use his law, but he still had his lineage. His body was covered in a cyan glow as his claws extended. His ancestral blood awakened, scales appearing on his body.

Wukong struck.

Qing Long did not try to block head-on. He pivoted, slid under the attack, and attempted a counteroffensive with a precise claw strike.

The wind whistled.

Wukong vanished once more.

A brutal shock exploded on his flank.

Qing Long grimaced.

Wukong reappeared behind him, the staff reduced to the size of a simple club. He turned quickly but was struck in the chest, sending Qing Long rolling for several meters.