Chapter 44: The Character for Struggle (1)

Chapter Fourteen: The Contest of Words

Before the enormous stone engraved with the character for “Disperse,” Master Wenruo drew a deep breath.

“What a fine character!” Master Wenruo exclaimed in delight.

As he praised the inscription, Master Wenruo reached out and produced a vermilion brush. Its shaft gleamed with a subtle red luster, while the bristles shimmered with hues of red, purple, and blue—a sight far superior to Yan Chuan’s pen in both elegance and craftsmanship.

“Master Wenruo, do you wish to compete with words?” Yu Xi’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

“Compete with words?” Young Master Yang, standing nearby, revealed a hint of curiosity as well.

Master Wenruo smiled slightly. “A brush reveals the spirit. The person who wrote this character possesses astonishing strength of hand. I am intrigued—my interest is piqued by the challenge!”

“Then please, Master Wenruo, write your character. I’ve only heard of such contests, never witnessed one myself!” Yu Xi’s face brimmed with curiosity.

“Very well.” Master Wenruo nodded.

With his right hand, he gripped the brush; with a subtle motion of his left, a small circular inkstone appeared in his palm, filled with a crimson liquid. Dipping his brush, Master Wenruo began to write atop Yan Chuan’s “Disperse.”

A contest of words?

Yu Xi widened her eyes, afraid to miss a single detail. Young Master Yang watched with equal intrigue.

As Master Wenruo’s brush touched the stone, a surge of vivid red smoke erupted from the tip. The smoke clashed with the gray aura already encircling the engraving.

A sudden gust swept through the air. At the point where the red and gray vapors collided, there arose the faint rumble of wind and thunder.

“Stop!” The faces of the assembled soldiers changed as they shouted in anger.

That was the character inscribed by their lord—no one was permitted to defile it! These uninvited guests might be powerful, but defiling the lord’s writing was intolerable.

With a metallic clamor, five seasoned officers brandished their spears and charged at the intruders, their weapons leveled with deadly intent.

A shrill, mocking laugh escaped Dwarf Ding Wugu. “There are still those who do not fear death in this world!”

With a heavy stomp, Ding Wugu sent a barrage of rubble hurtling toward the five young officers.

The stones struck the spears with a ringing clash of metal and stone, their force driving the officers back, step by step.

At last, a stone crashed into one officer’s chest, smashing a hole in his silver armor.

He was knocked from his feet, tumbling seven or eight times before coming to rest. Struggling to rise, he looked down to find his breastplate shattered. Yet beneath it, a layer of black inner armor had absorbed the blow.

Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, the young officer glared coldly at Ding Wugu.

“Brothers! The lord has never treated us unjustly—he has provided us with meat, even had the hide of the demon serpent made into our inner armor. Now someone dares to defile the lord’s inscription. Can we retreat?”

“We cannot!” Three thousand soldiers thundered in response.

“To arms!” the young officer bellowed, seizing the moment.

A resounding roar burst from three thousand throats.

Arrows flew once more, raining toward Ding Wugu.

Spears were raised, their points aimed at him.

Ding Wugu’s face darkened. With a sudden motion, a black orb appeared in his hand, which he slammed to the ground.

With a deafening explosion, the orb burst, unleashing a dense black mist that engulfed Ding Wugu. The vapor swelled, forming a wall that instantly blocked over two thousand arrows. Unlike the effortless defense of the Azure Dragon, this barrier simply caused the arrows to clatter to the ground.

“A swarm of ants,” Ding Wugu sneered, full of disdain.

Within the black smoke, Ding Wugu swept his arm with a sudden motion.