Ten-Day Pact

Lin Feng's voice had barely fallen.

The next moment, a lavishly decorated carriage embroidered with the Wang Family's crest entered the martial arena under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

The crowd automatically parted to make way. Every gaze focused on the carriage door, awaiting the arrival of the Yellow List's number one, the Wang Family's true dragon, Wang Teng.

The curtain was lifted.

Yet the person who stepped down was not the brocade-clad young master everyone had imagined, but a middle-aged man in gray robes with a sharp, capable face.

His gaze was as keen as an eagle's as he swept it across the arena, finally landing on Lin Feng atop the platform, carrying undisguised contempt.

"It's Wang Fu! Young Master Wang Teng's personal house servant!" someone whispered.

Wang Fu was ranked forty-ninth on the Yellow List, a Seventh Rank Perfection martial artist.

Though he was a house servant, his strength was enough to found a sect and establish a school in the martial world.

Wang Fu strode toward the platform and stopped below it. Looking up at Lin Feng, he let out a mocking laugh. "You're Lin Feng?"

Lin Feng looked at him expressionlessly.

"Do you think you're worthy of fighting my young master?" Wang Fu's voice was loud and brimming with ridicule. "The young master is discussing the Dao with a grandmaster at the provincial capital and has no time to bother with an ant like you.

"I heard you had a few clownish tricks, so he specifically ordered me to come clean them up, lest you dirty his hands."

He paused, his tone growing even more disdainful. "Sever your own meridians, kneel and beg for mercy, and perhaps I'll leave you with an intact corpse.

"Otherwise, today I'll let you taste a fate worse than death!"

The people below whispered among themselves. Some were displeased by the Wang Family's arrogance, while others worried about Lin Feng's predicament—Wang Teng had not even bothered to come in person! He looked down on people far too much!

Lin Feng's gaze turned cold. Before he could speak, the system's notification rang in his mind:

Suppress and kill Wang Teng's house servant to obtain 200 Slaughter Points.

"Even an old dog dares to bark so wildly." Lin Feng's tone was flat. "Since Wang Teng doesn't dare to come, I'll slaughter you first."

"You're courting death!" Wang Fu roared. His body burst upward like a mighty eagle pouncing on a rabbit, shooting straight toward the platform.

Before he even arrived, the formidable aura of a Seventh Rank Perfection martial artist had already swept over the arena, creating a pressure far greater than Wang Tianlong's.

His palms flashed back and forth, their force sharp and fierce. It was one of the Wang Family's supreme arts, the Rending Stone Palm—he had clearly grasped its essence.

Lin Feng struck back with his palm, activating the Dragon-Elephant Prison-Suppressing Strength. Their forces collided with a muffled boom.

In their first exchange, Lin Feng's figure swayed slightly, and he retreated half a step.

On the surface, his cultivation was only at the mid-Eighth Rank. Hard clashing with a Seventh Rank Perfection martial artist was somewhat taxing.

"Hmph, so you're merely relying on a bit of brute force!" Wang Fu pressed his advantage. His attacks surged like a tide, while his taunts continued without pause. "With this little ability, you dare provoke the Wang Family? You aren't even worthy of carrying the young master's shoes!"

His palms cast layer upon layer of shadows, enveloping Lin Feng and forcing him to appear as though he could do nothing but defend, with danger lurking at every turn.

Below the platform, Wang Xiong finally revealed a trace of pleasure and savagery. He turned to Shen Mo beside him and sneered, "Lord Shen, it seems the person you protected is ultimately just a good-for-nothing! Teng'er merely sent a house servant, yet he can still take his life!"

Shen Mo's brows furrowed slightly as he watched the platform without saying a word.

The surrounding spectators also shook their heads. It seemed that Lin Feng's strength had reached its limit.

Just as Wang Fu's palm was about to strike Lin Feng's shoulder, believing victory was already in his grasp—

Lin Feng deflected the incoming palm, borrowed its force to retreat two steps, and sank his mind into the system.

He remembered that when he had previously inventoried his storage bag, it had contained an unorthodox saber art obtained during one of his missions—Netherworld Ghost Blade. It was sinister and bizarre, but because it was difficult to cultivate and did not fit with his previous path, he had left it untouched.

"System, spend Slaughter Points to raise Netherworld Ghost Blade!"

150 Slaughter Points consumed. *Netherworld Ghost Blade* has reached Perfection!

In an instant, the countless profundities, circulation methods, and killing techniques of Netherworld Ghost Blade surged into Lin Feng's mind like a rising tide. He swiftly understood, mastered, and integrated them all!

It was as though he had immersed himself in this saber art for several decades!

At the same time, the system infused his body with inner force. The true qi within him roared like a torrent, breaking through the bottleneck!

Late Eighth Rank!

Eighth Rank Perfection!

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. To outsiders, all they saw was Lin Feng retreating, his aura seeming to stall for an instant.

Wang Fu grinned savagely. "Out of strength? Hand over your life!"

He pounced again, driving the force of the Rending Stone Palm to its peak, intending to kill Lin Feng with a single strike.

A cruel curve lifted the corners of Wang Xiong's mouth. He could already envision Lin Feng's brains bursting apart.

Yet Lin Feng suddenly raised his head, brilliant light exploding from his eyes. He showed not the slightest sign of exhaustion!

He reached back into his storage bag with his free hand, and a long saber of ancient design, exuding a dense ghostly aura, appeared in his grasp—it was Lin Feng's own long saber.

At this moment, nourished by the Netherworld Ghost Blade, the long saber had actually transformed into a mighty and imposing Netherworld Ghost Blade!

The saber light erupted, like a ghost slipping through a crack. It was silent and soundless, yet carried a bone-freezing chill and a deathly aura that extinguished all life!

Netherworld Ghost Blade—Perfection realm: Impermanence Claims a Life!

The savage grin on Wang Fu's face instantly froze, and his pupils contracted sharply.

He only sensed an indescribable, uncatchable blade shadow flash past. Before that blade shadow, his palm force and protective true qi were as flimsy as paper.

Fast! Precise! Ruthless!

"Pfft—"

The faint sound of a sharp blade slicing through a throat rang out.

Wang Fu's charging body abruptly stiffened. He clutched his neck as blood gushed through his fingers like a fountain.

He stared at Lin Feng in disbelief. A rattling sound came from his throat, and then he crashed to the ground, dead.

Killed Wang Fu, a Seventh Rank Perfection martial artist. Obtained 200 Slaughter Points!

The cold notification confirmed the result.

The entire arena fell deathly silent.

An instant kill!

Wang Fu, ranked forty-ninth on the Yellow List and a Seventh Rank Perfection martial artist, had just held an absolute advantage and acted invincible—yet Lin Feng had killed him with a single saber strike!

The smile on Wang Xiong's face froze completely, then transformed into incredulous fury. His face flushed blood-red. "Impossible!!"

He abruptly rose to his feet, his blood and qi surging. His earlier declaration still echoed in his ears, yet reality had just slapped him viciously across the face.

The backlash had come so quickly, so brutally!

"Pfft—" Overcome by rage, Wang Xiong actually spat out a mouthful of blood. His body swayed as he pointed at Lin Feng, his voice hoarse and twisted.

"You little bastard! You... you cheated! You killed my son, and now you've killed my house servant! If you have the guts, fight Teng'er fair and square! Bullying the weak with superior strength—your victory is disgraceful!"

Some forces attached to the Wang Family, as well as spectators who could not read the situation, also shouted in agreement:

"That's right! What skill is there in killing a house servant?"

"Wait until Young Master Wang Teng returns if you have the courage!"

"Ambushing and scheming in the shadows is no deed of a hero!"

Lin Feng stood with his saber in hand, blood dripping from its tip.

He swept his cold gaze over those voices of agreement, then finally fixed his eyes on Wang Xiong, his undisguised mockery clear.

"Old dog, shut your mouth."

His voice was not loud, yet it overwhelmed all the surrounding clamor.

"The bandit scourge from Black Wind Stronghold besieging the city—is that the work of your Wang Family and Wang Teng? Are you trying to borrow a blade to kill someone?"

Wang Xiong's gaze sharpened. Though he did not admit it, many people caught the flicker in his eyes at that instant.

At the same time, the Slaughter panel popped up with a notification.

Suppress and kill Wang Teng to obtain 5,000 Slaughter Points!

Lin Feng did not wait for him to retort. He pointed his long saber at Wang Xiong, his voice ringing with absolute finality across the arena:

"Tell Wang Teng to wash his neck and wait."

"Ten days! Just ten days!"

"Once I quell the bandit scourge at Black Wind Stronghold, I'll take that dog's head and offer it to the edge of my saber!"

When his voice fell, he ignored Wang Xiong, who was trembling with rage, and the uproarious crowd.

He gave Shen Mo a slight nod, sheathed his saber, and leaped straight down from the platform. His figure vanished in the direction leading outside the city.

The Ten-Day Pact had been made!