The system notification completely ignited the killing intent in Lin Feng's heart, while also giving him a clearer assessment of the enemy before him.
Sixth Rank Early Stage—perfect for testing the strength he had just gained, as well as that newly acquired palm technique!
Faced with Hu Biao's mockery and the bandits' laughter, Lin Feng finally spoke. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly overpowered all the clamor, carrying a bone-chilling coldness.
"Where did this wild dog come from, barking so madly? With skills as meager as yours, do you really think you're worthy of making a Qianhu of the Northern Garrison Command kneel?"
As he spoke, he slowly reached into his robes and pulled out the secret manual of the "Blood Fiend Palm" that he had taken from the Imperial Inspector.
Under everyone's astonished gaze, he flipped through the pages seemingly at random, while his mind had already sunk into the depths of his consciousness.
System, spend Slaughter Points to upgrade the "Blood Fiend Palm"!
Lin Feng's retort left Hu Biao stunned for a moment, after which he flew into a rage. "You little bastard, you're courting death! I'll chop you up right now..."
Before he had finished speaking, he saw Lin Feng actually start reading a book before the formation. His anger surged until smoke seemed to pour from all seven orifices, and he felt he had suffered an immense humiliation.
The soldiers of the Northern Garrison Command saw their Qianhu pull out a secret manual despite being surrounded by powerful enemies. Though they did not understand why, recalling the terrifying breakthrough Lin Feng had made in battle, they could not help but once again feel intense anticipation rising in their hearts!
What other means was Lord Qianhu about to display?
Lin Feng ignored Hu Biao's roar and the various gazes around him, focusing all his attention on the system interface in his mind.
Spend Slaughter Points to learn and upgrade "Blood Fiend Palm"?
"Upgrade 'Blood Fiend Palm'!"
With a thought from Lin Feng, the 350 accumulated Slaughter Points instantly dropped to zero.
A scorching, violent current exploded out of nowhere in his dantian. It then transformed into countless insights about channeling force through the palm technique and circulating qi and blood, surging madly into his consciousness.
The profundity of the "Blood Fiend Palm" was branded into him as deeply as if he had painstakingly cultivated it for decades.
From having never entered the threshold, to entry, Minor Achievement, Major Achievement... and finally, straight to Perfection!
Yet the changes did not stop there.
After the force of the Perfection-level "Blood Fiend Palm" surged through his body to its utmost limit, it suddenly underwent a qualitative transformation.
Within that scorching heat, a trace of extreme cold was born. Two completely different powers tangled and fused with each other, ultimately transforming into an even deeper and more powerful force.
In his mind, the name of the manual twisted and reassembled along with it, transforming into four far more oppressive characters—"Profound Nether Blood Fiend Palm"!
At the same time, the inner breath that had originally been at Eighth Rank Perfection was swept up and tempered by this newborn power. The bottleneck, as thin as paper, was easily pierced through, and his aura suddenly rose, stabilizing at Sixth Rank Early Stage!
All of this sounded as though it had taken a long time, but in reality, it happened in the blink of an eye.
Outside, Hu Biao saw that Lin Feng had not only ignored him but had also lowered his head to "read." He laughed out of sheer fury. "Damn it, you're still playing tricks on the verge of death! Come and die!"
With a furious shout, he stomped down hard. The ground cracked, and his body shot out like a ferocious tiger bursting from its cage. The Nine-Ringed Ghost-Head Saber at his waist flashed from its sheath, bringing with it a piercing sonic boom. Its fierce saber wind cleaved straight toward Lin Feng's face!
This saber strike contained all the power of his Sixth Rank Early Stage cultivation. He was determined to split the detestable brat, horse and all, in two!
However, just as the blade was about to reach his head, Lin Feng finally moved.
He slowly raised his head. In his eyes, a sea of blood seemed to surge, while a thread of Profound Nether chill flashed and vanished.
Hu Biao, who had kept Lin Feng locked in his sights, felt his heart jolt violently!
Something was wrong!
How had the aura around this brat become so strange and powerful in such a short instant?
He had clearly been at Eighth Rank Perfection just now, so why did he now give Hu Biao even a trace of dread?
But the saber had already been unleashed; there was no taking it back.
In that split second, Lin Feng moved.
He did not dodge. He merely raised his right hand, and his palm instantly turned scarlet, as if soaked in blood. A faint thread of black chill coiled around it as well.
Even the surrounding air seemed to grow viscous and frigid.
Instead of retreating, he advanced. With a shift of his body, he let the Ghost-Head Saber descending toward him pass by within a hair's breadth.
That palm, wreathed in scarlet and pitch-black energy, silently imprinted itself against Hu Biao's chest.
"Courting death!" Though startled, Hu Biao remained confident in his own cultivation. He poured his inner power into his left palm and hastily struck out, intending to meet Lin Feng head-on.
The two palms collided.
There was no earth-shaking boom as expected, only a muffled sound, like rotten leather splitting apart.
The ferocious grin on Hu Biao's face instantly froze, replaced by extreme terror and pain.
He felt his palm force sink into the sea like a mud cow. A scorching force, hot as magma, instantly tore through his defenses and burrowed into his meridians.
Then, a bone-piercing cold force followed close behind, penetrating straight into his five viscera and six bowels!
"Pffft—!"
Hu Biao spewed blood wildly. His entire body flew backward like a kite with its string cut, crashing heavily against the mountain rock before tumbling to the ground.
He struggled to crawl up, but one half of his body felt as though it were being scorched by raging fire, while the other had fallen into an ice cellar. His meridians throbbed with pain, his inner power had scattered, and he had clearly suffered grievous internal injuries.
He raised his head and looked toward Lin Feng, who was slowly withdrawing his palm, his expression as cold and impassive as before. His eyes were filled with disbelief and terror.
"You... what martial art is that?! Your realm... Seventh Rank?! No, that palm force..."
Lin Feng did not answer. He merely strode toward him, his footsteps ringing clearly through the silent valley like the countdown to death.
The shadow of death descended. All of Hu Biao's arrogance vanished without a trace. An intense desire to live made him shout hoarsely, "Don't! Don't kill me! Lord Qianhu! Lord Lin! Spare me! Spare my life!"
He struggled to kneel and prostrate himself on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing without caring about his injuries.
"I'm useful! I'm useful to you! I know the defenses and secret passages of Black Wind Stronghold. I know the strengths and weaknesses of the First and Second Stronghold Masters!
"I... I can be your mole in Black Wind Stronghold! I only ask that you spare this dog's life!"
His pleas echoed through Fallen Eagle Ravine. The bandits who had been laughing moments ago were all dumbstruck, staring with their mouths agape at the Sixth Rank leader they had considered incomparably powerful, now kneeling and begging for mercy like a mangy dog.
The soldiers of the Northern Garrison Command, meanwhile, were immensely heartened. Their gazes toward Lin Feng were filled with fervor and awe.
Lord Qianhu had actually gravely wounded a Sixth Rank martial artist with a single move! What terrifying strength was this?
Lin Feng's footsteps did not stop, and his gaze remained cold.
Seeing hope of survival, Hu Biao hurriedly raised the stakes, speaking at lightning speed. "My lord! Black Wind Stronghold isn't as simple as it appears! There are forces behind it involving... ah!"
Before he could finish, a sudden change occurred!
Hu Biao, who had been kneeling and begging for mercy, seemingly powerless to resist, suddenly flashed a trace of viciousness and cunning in his eyes.
He used the motion of kowtowing as cover, silently reaching his right hand toward his boot.
The next moment, a streak of black light shot out like a venomous snake, heading straight for Lin Feng's throat!
At the same time, he rolled sharply backward, attempting to open up some distance.
"Lord Lin, watch out for the hidden weapon!" the soldiers of the Northern Garrison Command cried out.
The black light was a poisoned short shuttle, moving with astonishing speed!
Yet faced with this sudden ambush, Lin Feng showed no surprise. Instead, a trace of derision appeared on his face.
"I've been guarding against that trick of yours."
As though he had predicted Hu Biao's move long ago, Lin Feng merely tilted his head slightly the instant the black light reached him.
The short shuttle grazed past his neck and struck the tree trunk behind him, producing a muffled thud.
At the same time, Lin Feng's figure closed in like a ghost. Under Hu Biao's horrified gaze,
the palm wreathed in Blood Fiend and Profound Nether energy struck his chest once more. This time, it erupted with its full power!
"No—!"
Hu Biao only had time to let out a brief, desperate scream.
"Boom!"
A muffled explosion rang out.
Hu Biao's body shook violently. His chest visibly caved inward, while the clothes on his back burst apart, revealing a clear scarlet palm print. A thin layer of black frost had even formed along its edges.
The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. Carrying endless regret and terror, he breathed his last, and his corpse slumped softly to the ground.
Slaughtered Black Wind Stronghold's leader, "Mountain Crusher Saber" Hu Biao. Obtained 350 Slaughter Points!
The cold notification sounded right on schedule.
Lin Feng slowly withdrew his palm without even sparing Hu Biao's corpse a glance. His eyes turned toward the remaining bandits, who had long since been scared witless and stood frozen in place.
At that moment, not the slightest trace of ferocity remained on the faces of these hardened bandits. Only boundless terror was left as they looked at Lin Feng as though he were a fiendish god from the Nine Hells.
Lin Feng's voice was not loud, yet it carried unquestionable authority as it echoed through the valley:
"The chief culprit has been slain."
He paused, his cold gaze sweeping over the frightened faces of every bandit.
"Those who surrender will not be killed."
Before you continue