Yang San's hair had somehow become wet. On his blue-black skin, twisted veins bulged high, making his frame seem several sizes larger.
"It's over..."
Ma An watched Yang San's transformed appearance, and his heart sank.
They had only come to investigate, but who would have thought things would reach the worst possible point?
Chu Feng's face was expressionless. His Mò Dāo scraped across the ground, giving off a harsh grating sound.
His body was taut as a drawn bowstring. The eight-hundred-pound Mò Dāo swung out in an instant like a blacksmith's hammer.
"Hiss..."
Yang San opened his mouth, but what came out was a bloodcurdling woman's cry, shrill and hoarse like fingernails scraping across a tombstone...
Facing Chu Feng's attack, which descended with the weight of Mount Tai, he neither dodged nor evaded. He simply reached out and grabbed at it.
Bang!
Bang!
In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged more than ten blows.
After being possessed, Yang San's strength had soared. He was actually evenly matched with Chu Feng.
Only after exchanging blows did Chu Feng see clearly that the twisted black lines across that body were no veins at all. They were countless strands of twisted, tangled, dripping-wet hair!
The black hair spread over his entire body like armor. When Chu Feng's ferocious Mò Dāo struck it, it was like beating on a massive drum. Not only did it fail to inflict the slightest injury, the rebound made his tiger's web throb with pain.
Chu Feng's expression remained steady. His Mò Dāo swept through the air, leaving three afterimages as he struck Yang San's left chest and ribs three times in succession.
"Crack!"
The sound of shattering bones reached their ears. Though the three heavy blows failed to break through the black hair's defense, their tremendous