A Scream Ignites a Melee!

City God Temple, rear courtyard.

"Who exactly are you people? Why have you kidnapped me?" "My father is the wealthiest man in Qingcheng. If you're after money, name your price."

Among the bound crowd, a youth in embroidered robes stared nervously at the black-clad man beside him.

In his eyes, these people had kidnapped him for nothing more than money.

This wasn't the first time.

He thought to himself, next time he'd have to ask his father to hire an even stronger martial guard.

"My family can pay too, to ransom me." "And mine."

The other captives chimed in one after another.

"Shut up!"

The mysterious man waved his hand, and a cold gleam shot from his palm.

The nearest youth's neck burst with a flash of blood, then he slowly crumpled to the ground.

The blood gushing from his throat instantly stained the earth red.

The remaining captives, stunned by the sudden killing, froze in place.

Not a single sound dared escape them.

"Heh heh... only this fresh blood." The mysterious man extended a crimson tongue, lightly licking the blood beads clinging to his dagger, his face wearing an expression of ecstasy. "That's what my darling likes."

As he spoke.

His hands blurred into a phantom, and in the blink of an eye, nine complex hand seals were completed in one breath.

With the final seal, a sudden blaze of light erupted beside him, and a formation materialized out of thin air.

Then, a one-armed Yang Kui slowly stepped forth.

The mysterious man immediately ordered: "Eat him."

The Yang Kui moved on command, its body spinning sharply as it lunged at the still-warm corpse of the youth.

Amid the sickening crunch-crunch sounds.

The bound captives' faces turned paper-white, their bodies trembling violently. The clatter of ropes and chattering teeth was even clearer than the gnawing.

In less than ten breaths, the youth's body was devoured down to the last bone fragment.

And the Yang Kui's missing arm was slowly healing at a visible rate, growing a brand-new limb.

"Ah—!"

Suddenly, a girl's scream exploded like a thunderclap in the ears of everyone in the rear courtyard.

The mysterious man whipped his head around toward the entrance. When he spotted the Heavenly Realm Division uniforms on Wei Qing and the others, he smiled mysteriously: "The Heavenly Realm Division's reputation for a keen nose is well-deserved. I didn't expect you to find this place so quickly."

"Just a rat hiding its head and tail—you're not qualified to judge my Heavenly Realm Division." Wei Qing shot back coldly. "Will you surrender yourself, or do I have to break your fifth limb before you kneel and give up?"

"Interesting!"

Before the mysterious man's words faded, his figure had already appeared before Wei Qing, his five fingers hooked like talons, reaching for Wei Qing's throat!

The next instant.

A fist shadow suddenly blasted out from beside Wei Qing!

"Boom!!"

Fist and claw collided, true essence exploding! Chen Feng and the mysterious man each staggered back three steps, the blue bricks beneath their feet cracking inch by inch.

Murderous intent surged in Chen Feng's eyes as he growled: "Cheng Hao of the Ghost Corpse Sect's 'Eagle Claw Hand'—I've finally found you, you bastard."

"Hehehe..." Cheng Hao laughed darkly, his voice hoarse like grinding sand. "Didn't expect to run into you here."

He slowly raised his hand, his knuckles an unnatural green-black. "Chen Feng, let's settle last time's score right here today!"

"Kill!"

"Die!"

Before the words died, both figures erupted simultaneously, fists and claw shadows intertwining, killing intent splattering!

"Wushang, protect Miss Zhang!"

The words had barely left his mouth before Wei Qing's form shot out like lightning, appearing before the Yang Kui in an instant, his long blade slashing straight down!

The Yang Kui raised its arm to block.

"Clang—!!"

Dazzling sparks burst forth!

Wei Qing felt a slight numbness in his tiger's mouth—the blade's edge struck as if hitting century-old black iron, unable to advance another inch.

A shock ran through his heart—such formidable defense!

Yang Kui's dead pupils suddenly flushed blood-red as he raised his right arm, five fingers clamping down like iron pincers toward Wei Qing's crown!

Wei Qing spun back a step, then kicked off the ground to leap into the air.

Midair, cold light flashed four times in succession as blade strikes landed on Yang Kui's vital points without pause.

Sparks flew everywhere.

With a crack, a fissure split open across Yang Kui's chest, and two poison-coated silver needles shot out accompanied by the sound of a mechanism.

"Wei Qing, be careful—those are the Ghost Corpse Sect's Soul Severing Needles."

Shen Yan hurriedly warned.

"Shen Zhenshou, you'd better worry about yourself." Yan Qingshan let out a sinister chuckle.

The moment Wei Qing leaped, the two sides surged forward like raging torrents and collided violently.

Amid flashing blades and sword light.

Yan Qingshan cut off her path, both palms taking on an ominous, ashen gray.

"Looking for death!"

Shen Yan pressed a spot on her waist, and with a sharp shing, a cold gleam burst forth as the Black Gold Soft Sword slid from its sheath, shooting like an arrow toward Yan Qingshan's eyes.

"Heh heh, who's the prey and who's the hunter is still up in the air."

A string of hoarse, cold laughter rolled from Yan Qingshan's throat as he advanced instead of retreating.

His right hand, now a livid iron-gray, hooked like claws and snatched at the stabbing soft sword—

Clang—!

A piercing metallic screech exploded as the Black Gold Soft Sword was actually caught in his grip! The blade shuddered violently.

"Shen Zhenshou, this sword really is—"

Before he could finish, a silver thread streaked through the air, and his sword-gripping right arm slid cleanly off at the elbow...

Thud.

The severed arm hit the ground, fingers still frozen in a grasping pose.

"Ah..."

Belated pain flooded his body. Yan Qingshan staggered back two steps, cold sweat instantly soaking through his back.

He stared fixedly at Shen Yan's left hand—unnoticed, she now held a slender sword as fine as a silver hairpin, a single drop of blood slowly dripping from its tip.

"Mother-Child Sword."

"Die!"

Shen Yan's feet suddenly accelerated, her form turning into a silver blur as the sword tip aimed straight for Yan Qingshan's heart.

"Stop her."

Yan Qingshan retreated rapidly, clutching his severed arm.

At his command, three black-clad Yan Family death warriors shot up, weapons raised, sealing off Shen Yan's path of attack.

In an instant, the four clashed into a melee.

Jun Wushang, Zhang Xue, Zhu Huan, and the others also made their moves, each engaging the other black-clad fighters.

Just as Wei Qing was pondering the weak points in Yang Kui's defense, the corner of his eye caught a red spot on Yang Kui's neck.

He shifted his blade's trajectory and stabbed straight at that red spot.

Yang Kui's figure retreated explosively.

But it was already too late.

The moment the long blade struck the red spot, Yang Kui seemed frozen by a paralysis technique—his retreating body jerked to a halt.

Seizing the opportunity, Wei Qing channeled his true essence into the long blade.

Shua shua...

Four flashes of cold light appeared, and Yang Kui's limbs were severed cleanly.

At that very moment.

Cheng Hao, locked in fierce combat with Chen Feng, suddenly shuddered.

The next second, a mouthful of blood uncontrollably sprayed from his lips.

He whipped his head around just in time to witness Yang Kui's body, connected to him by spiritual bond, collapse powerlessly, severed limbs scattered across the ground.

"Bastard!" Cheng Hao's eyes bulged with rage, bloodshot veins crawling across them as he roared, "I'll make you die!"