Xiangzi’s Record of Immortal Cultivation-Chapter 46: The Marvel of Five-Colored Ore

Seeing the pullers flee from the hilltop, Luo Er’s scarred face smirked. “See that? Just poor pullers—what’ve they ever seen? Once I charge up, they’ll kneel and beg!”
His men nodded eagerly, quickening their pace—these pullers were trash; they had to claim this victory!
Soon, the Wildcats’ elite squad reached the slope’s crest.
Before them lay a flat path,
blocked by several carts with iron plates, scattered haphazardly ten paces away.
Luo Er sneered.
Struggling uphill was one thing, but on flat ground, you think these wooden carts can stop me?
Boss is getting old, losing his edge, thinking of retreating against this rabble?
Under the blazing noon sun, his burly frame gleamed with menace.
The bandits below, seeing this, howled, their shouts shaking the hill.
Basking in the spotlight, Luo Er grinned, waving his hand. “Boys, charge with me!”
A few steps in—
Boom!
A deafening crash!
Dust billowed high, and Luo Er and his men vanished!
The bandits below froze—
how did they just disappear?
Moments later, a furious roar echoed from the slope:
“Damn you dogs, digging a trap for your Grandpa Luo? What kind of hero does that?!”
“Let me out, or I’ll smash your skulls with this mace!”
Wen San hadn’t lied—his trap-digging skills screamed seasoned hunter.
The trap, over a zhang deep and wide, was covered with thin branches, draped with tattered cloth, and dusted with loose soil.
Even up close, it was flawless.
Pity time was short—the pit wasn’t big or deep enough.
Luckily, Luo Er and a few others fell in;
unluckily, some bandits lagged behind.
As dust rose and their second-in-command vanished, the trailing bandits froze.
But they were Wildcat elites—one reacted fast, rushing to help Luo Er, only to be speared through the heart by Xiangzi, seizing the moment.
Seeing Luo Er unsavable, the foe’s spearwork deadly, and surrounded by pullers, the remaining bandits knew they were done. Without a word, they fled,
tumbling down the path in a panic.
Being a ninth-rank martial artist, Luo Er nearly leaped out of the deep pit in moments,
his mace already reaching beyond the edge.
“Dump the ore!”
Xiangzi roared, dropping his spear, grabbing two carts, and charging.
His dantian’s vortex surged to its limit as he twisted the handles—the carts flipped, and hundreds of jin of five-colored ore rained into the pit!
The other pullers, too shocked to gape, followed suit, pouring ore in.
“Ow! Ow!”
“Damn you, stop smashing me!”
Luo Er’s frantic voice rose from the pit.
No one paid him mind—everyone outside was sweating, filling the pit!
Soon, half of Luo Er’s body was buried under the ore.
The ore’s suppressing effect on martial artists’ blood energy kicked in.
Buried under so much five-colored ore, Luo Er felt suffocated, his dantian’s vortex slowing instantly.
A bandit like him, rarely exposed to such ore, couldn’t withstand its toll—he had no “ore resistance”!
His once-booming curses grew feeble.
His two trapped subordinates, like fish out of water, lost all strength.
The crowd gathered to watch, only to see the scarred man lift his eyelids and mutter, “
Damn it all
”—still swinging his mace.
Xiangzi marveled—
a ninth-rank martial artist is tough, resisting the ore this long.
After a while, the pit fell silent.
Still cautious, Xiangzi used his spear’s handle to prod Luo Er from a distance—a ninth-rank martial artist might be worth bargaining with.
Seeing no movement, Xiangzi took a thick rope from Wen San.
For a martial artist, the half-filled pit wasn’t deep—just a stretch of the leg to climb down.
Standing at the edge, spear in one hand, rope in the other, Xiangzi prepared to jump and bind Luo Er.
Then, disaster struck!
A massive glint flashed—the mace reflecting sunlight.
Luo Er’s eyes snapped open, a ruthless sneer on his scarred face.
The ore was grueling, but a ninth-rank martial artist’s blood energy was beyond ordinary!
He’d held his breath, waiting for this moment—
kill this big guy, and the leaderless pullers will surrender!
Hah, what Big Boss couldn’t do, I, Grandpa Luo, will!
Roaring, Luo Er pushed his blood energy to the limit, risking backlash, and leaped from the pit.
The massive mace swung straight for Xiangzi’s skull.
Xiangzi’s pupils shrank, ignoring the overhead blow. His wrist flicked, the spear arcing toward Luo Er’s throat.
Luo Er’s heart lurched—
Damn it, what maniac fights like this, trading life for life?
Forced to retreat, he swung his mace to block, barely parrying the spear.
Clang, clang, clang!
After a few exchanges, Luo Er steadied himself at the pit’s edge, his mace a blur, aiming for Xiangzi’s vitals.
Xiangzi could only parry, retreating step by step.
A true early ninth-rank martial artist, even weakened by the ore, was still this fierce.
Luo Er was equally shocked—
this kid’s not ranked, his spearwork’s average, but his blood energy is monstrous for a Blood Energy Barrier martial artist!
Blood soaked Xiangzi’s shoulder, his shirt dyed red.
Big Boss’s arrow had clearly wounded him.
Yet his movements remained precise?
An injured, unranked martial artist holding off my assault?
Luo Er could hardly believe his eyes.
But the gap in strength wasn’t bridged by tricks. Free of the ore pit, Luo Er’s power surged.
Xiangzi’s defeat seemed imminent.
Only Uncle Jie could save him, but he was tied up with a new bandit charge at the slope’s front.
The others, like Wen San, were mere Blood Energy Barrier pullers—Luo Er’s mace wind alone could knock them flat.
At that moment,
a long blade slashed up from a strange angle toward Luo Er!