Chapter 214

Chapter 214: Dagger-Offering Order

Wang Jie followed Zhi Nan Xing while scanning the battlefield.

In one direction, hundreds of sword auras shot into the sky in rigid lines, like they’d been arranged—each aura belonging to an individual cultivator.

In another, strange starry sky behemoths swept through the void like living storms.

The whole battlefield could be summed up in one word:

Chaos.

No command. No coordination.

Worse—no clear enemy.

“Hey,” Wang Jie said, “how do you tell friend from foe?”

Zhi Nan Xing didn’t answer.

Wang Jie sped up. In the next leap, he passed Zhi Nan Xing outright.

Zhi Nan Xing’s face darkened.

The gap between them was obvious.

Fragment to fragment wasn’t far here. Even with stretches of void between, it wasn’t like normal planetary distance. A cultivator could cross with a single leap.

They landed on a new fragment—and immediately saw a dense crowd behind a ridge.

Zhi Nan Xing froze.

Wang Jie’s gaze flicked to him. “Friendlies?”

Zhi Nan Xing spun and ran.

The crowd attacked as one. Most weren’t star-breaking realm—many were ten seals or lower—but there were too many. Even Wang Jie didn’t want to get bogged down here.

If Han Hai were only filled with opponents like this, he could slaughter them easily.

But it wasn’t.

So he ran.

They leaped to another fragment. This one was empty.

Both exhaled.

Zhi Nan Xing glared. “Stop following me. Find your own place to hide.”

Wang Jie asked again, “How do you tell friend from foe?”

Zhi Nan Xing hesitated, then spoke, as if answering only to make him shut up. “Two ways.”

“One: you recognize them and know for sure.”

“Two: everyone is an enemy.”

Wang Jie blinked. “Everyone?”

Zhi Nan Xing gave a cold laugh. “You want to sort enemies and allies in a battlefield this chaotic?”

“Even if you can, can they?”

“Strike first. Survive. Anyone you don’t recognize is an enemy.”

Wang Jie absorbed that.

Experience.

And on a battlefield like this, even killing the wrong person didn’t matter. No one tracked it. No one could.

It wasn’t like mortal wars with uniforms and banners.

Cultivators could disguise themselves. No one wore a required color. No one played by clean rules.

Who knew who you were really facing?

Now he understood why the Command Hub never taught them how to identify friend from foe.

The terminal alerts never stopped.

After a short rest, Wang Jie scanned the void.

Bodies floated everywhere—human and starry sky behemoth alike. Warship fragments drifted in endless fields, some forming bridges between landmasses.

“Where now?” Wang Jie asked.

Zhi Nan Xing’s gaze swept the horizon. “Don’t know.”

“You seemed like you knew this place,” Wang Jie said. “Now you don’t?”

“I’ve seen the Han Hai star map,” Zhi Nan Xing said curtly. “Even it admits there is no absolutely safe place.”

Wang Jie didn’t doubt it.

Shockwaves rolled across the fragment beneath their feet, even from battles far away.

For the moment, this area was empty. They could hide.

Zhi Nan Xing didn’t move. He seemed content to stay.

He glanced at Wang Jie again, eyes narrowing.

If a strong enemy appeared, could this bastard reveal his identity to make him the target?

It wasn’t impossible.

Zhi Nan Xing’s suspicion deepened.

Wang Jie didn’t notice. He was watching another fragment in the distance.

He recognized them at once.

Puppeteer.

Third Nebula’s Seventh Star Chain Puppeteer Sect.

There were Luo Kingdom fighters too.

Their opponents were a group of women.

“Singing Phoenix Hall?” Wang Jie murmured.

Zhi Nan Xing’s voice went tight. “Singing Phoenix Hall.”

He started to move.

Wang Jie caught him. “Don’t. If you move now, you’ll be spotted.”

Zhi Nan Xing stopped, eyes flashing.

They were close enough to feel it now.

The Luo Kingdom fighters charged, Puppeteer supported them, and then—

Music.

A sound art so strange it made the bones vibrate.

Wang Jie had heard Singing Phoenix Hall from far away before, but this was different. This close, even his lockforce trembled.

The ground cracked. The void rippled visibly, like a mirror splitting.

Zhi Nan Xing closed his eyes and pressed down his aura with starforce.

Wang Jie instinctively suppressed his lockforce as well.

So this was Singing Phoenix Hall.

The leading woman was roaming-star realm. Not weak at all.

The Luo Kingdom side had multiple roaming-star realm, but the music choked their charge. Only Puppeteer puppets remained unaffected.

Then the pitch climbed, sharp enough to feel like it was drilling into the skull.

Thunder roared through sound itself.

The air became lightning.

A sweeping wave of thunder-sound tore through the puppets, shattering them into fragments.

Thunder-Sound True Dharma.

Wang Jie watched, momentarily absorbed—

And then his heart lurched.

A chill crawled along his neck.

Enemy.

He moved on instinct, stepping with Jia Eight Steps.

A blade stabbed out where he’d been—so sudden it was as if it had grown from the ground. The tip glinted coldly, close enough to sting his eyes.

He hadn’t sensed anything.

Zhi Nan Xing’s eyes widened as he saw it. “Dagger-Offering Order?”

He reacted instantly, striking with one palm toward the shadow of a stone.

The blade vanished—then reappeared, stabbing into Zhi Nan Xing’s palm.

Blood dripped.

Zhi Nan Xing retreated hard, voice sharp. “I fixed him with Ding Chen. Kill him!”

Wang Jie didn’t hesitate.

He drew his sword and drove it into the place Zhi Nan Xing had struck—straight into the shadow.

It looked like empty air.

Then the blade slowly stained red.

A figure twisted up out of the darkness like smoke forced into human shape, impaled through the torso. He glared at Zhi Nan Xing, eyes full of hatred and disbelief.

“Ding… Ding Chen… Zhi family…”

Then he died.

Zhi Nan Xing exhaled shakily, staring at the blood on his palm. That blade had nearly landed somewhere far worse.

If the assassin’s first target hadn’t been Wang Jie, Zhi Nan Xing might already be dead.

“Go,” Wang Jie said.

He grabbed Zhi Nan Xing and ran.

Their struggle had drawn attention.

The thunderous music from Singing Phoenix Hall was sweeping outward, cracking terrain and shaking the fragment beneath them.

Wang Jie dragged Zhi Nan Xing with Sword Steps, moving so fast Zhi Nan Xing’s eyes went distant with shock. In a blink, they escaped the edge of the sound-wave destruction.

Wang Jie released him.

Zhi Nan Xing landed hard, breathing ragged. “Thank you.”

Wang Jie looked back.

Singing Phoenix Hall didn’t pursue. Their attention remained on Puppeteer and Luo Kingdom.

Zhi Nan Xing wiped blood from his palm and spoke in a low, grim voice. “On the battlefield, the most dangerous is Dagger-Offering Order.”

“They’re vile. They never fight head-on. They only assassinate.”

“Too many of ours have died to them.”

Wang Jie didn’t answer.

He grabbed Zhi Nan Xing again and kept running.

Zhi Nan Xing barely had time to breathe before beams slammed into the fragment behind them.

The landmass shattered.

In the distance, concentrated barrages swept across the battlefield.

“Both sides are clearing,” Zhi Nan Xing said sharply. “Run!”

Above them, Black-White Heaven’s barrage carved lines through the void.

Then another barrage came from the opposite direction.

Wang Jie and Zhi Nan Xing leaped from fragment to fragment like insects fleeing a boot, the battlefield collapsing behind them.

Countless people died in those beams—Black-White Heaven, Third Nebula, Second Star Cloud. It didn’t matter.

Even the Singing Phoenix Hall group they’d been watching was caught in the bombardment range.

There was nowhere to run.

The coverage was too broad.

Wang Jie unleashed Thunder Pattern.

Beams struck with no gaps, forcing them into the ground like a giant pressing down.

When the barrage eased, they clawed their way out of shattered stone.

Zhi Nan Xing’s voice was tight. “This kind of clearing doesn’t happen often. It won’t last long. It’s a resource and logistics contest—who can afford to burn more.”

Wang Jie shoved rubble away. “Stop explaining. Can those tech weapons threaten us?”

“Yes,” Zhi Nan Xing said flatly. “If they have enough resources, they’ll grind us down in waves until your lockforce runs out.”

“And if we’re unlucky and the stronger weapons come out, their destruction can exceed roaming-star realm.”

“Then we’re finished.”

Wang Jie exhaled slowly.

Weapons like that surely existed—but in a battlefield this chaotic, even deploying them wasn’t simple.

He took out the Star Compass. “Watch the Combat Power Detector.”

Zhi Nan Xing pulled out his Combat Power Detector and activated it. The beeping was much slower now.

Too many had died in that clearing strike.

Hundreds of thousands dying at once was normal here.

No wonder people feared Han Hai.

This place didn’t treat cultivators as people.

It treated them as meat.

Wang Jie fed qi into the Star Compass. Signals pulsed around them, but none looked especially strong.

Zhi Nan Xing glanced at the Star Compass, curiosity flashing despite himself. “What is that?”

Wang Jie ignored the question. “How did that Dagger-Offering Order assassin get that close to me?”

Zhi Nan Xing’s expression turned grim. “Dagger-Offering Order is Second Star Cloud’s counterpart to Singing Phoenix Hall. They live on assassination.”

“They have two techniques that work together like a perfect blade.”

“One is Shadow Transformation Art. They can hide inside shadows—and even alter a shadow’s shape to disguise themselves.”

“The other is Hiding Edge. It conceals killing intent.”

“They train Breath-Concealing Method from childhood. Breath concealment plus Hiding Edge, layered with Shadow Transformation Art… their assassinations almost never fail.”

Wang Jie understood at once.

No wonder he hadn’t sensed anything.

“Shadow Transformation Art,” he murmured. “Like a shadow-hunting beast?”

“Similar,” Zhi Nan Xing said.

Wang Jie’s eyes tightened.

That meant he’d have to be far more cautious from now on.

Zhi Nan Xing added quietly, “There are rumors Black-White Heaven once had an expert who could compete for six-path roamer.”

“He died to Dagger-Offering Order.”

“There are too many cases. Too many.”

“Even star-refining realm.”

Wang Jie’s jaw clenched.

Zhi Nan Xing looked away. “That assassin was probably full-star realm.”

“And we didn’t get his identity token.”

They stayed buried for a while longer.

Then the next barrage began.

The fragment shuddered and broke apart again.

Wang Jie grabbed Zhi Nan Xing and moved—dragging him out of the worst of it, again and again.

Zhi Nan Xing was slower. Far slower.

Wang Jie didn’t abandon him.

And that, more than anything, made Zhi Nan Xing’s expression soften with reluctant gratitude.

If Wang Jie hadn’t been here, Zhi Nan Xing would already be dead—or broken enough to be finished by the next enemy that found him.