Blood Cloak

In the old fortune-teller's eyes, the constable before him was strong and brimming with yang energy—a perfect offering for a sacrifice.

Though he looked like someone not to be trifled with, the old man was a believer who had already performed five sacrificial rites.

He had originally planned to find out where the man lived and act that night, but he never expected his identity to be exposed.

Then he had no choice but to make things a little troublesome and beat him half to death first.

Only the living could provide fear, and the denser the fear, the more blessings he could receive.

With that thought, his right hand instantly turned black, its sheen flowing like black iron as it reached for Kong Wu's shoulder.

First, he would dislocate several of his joints, and then...

Before the old man could finish thinking through his plan, he noticed Kong Wu move.

The long saber rose straight up, then came crashing down.

Clang!

The clash of metal rang out. The zhanmadao struck the old man's black palm, sending sparks flying in all directions.

The old man widened his eyes, staring at the scene in incomprehension.

After five rites, his body had been transformed by blessings again and again, placing him far beyond the realm of ordinary people.

He had once grappled with a black bear in the wilderness and forcibly slammed the beast to death.

He had once broken through a siege by dozens of people and fought his way to survival.

Yet now, he felt pressure from this zhanmadao.

This fellow...

Could an ordinary person possess such strength?

Could he be a cultivator?

Looking up, he saw Kong Wu's long hair flying, a strange smile on his face as he revealed a mouthful of pearly white teeth.

"Old man! You're pretty good!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Kong Wu exhaled. Both his arms suddenly swelled, and the force he applied to the zhanmadao increased several notches.

For a moment, the old man, already dazed, could not help trembling in both legs. He only felt a force like mountains toppling and seas overturning descend from above.

Boom!

A thunderous crash rang out, and the area where the two stood was instantly blanketed in dust.

Only then did Skinny Monkey and the others come to their senses.

Everything had happened too quickly. They had not been able to react in time.

Immediately, the sounds of blades being drawn and shouts erupted into chaos.

"Scoundrel!"

"Protect Constable Kong!"

"How dare you! You actually attacked an official!"

Though everyone shouted angrily, not one of them rashly stepped forward.

These men had seen Kong Wu fight before. They all knew that going up would not help in the slightest.

Moreover, Kong Wu had drawn his blade.

Ordinary enemies were not worthy of him using that zhanmadao.

In their impression, the number of times Kong Wu had used that zhanmadao could be counted on one hand.

And whenever he wielded it, the area within five meters was a forbidden zone.

There had once been a band of bandits who charged at Kong Wu with five men and five horses.

In the end, they had all become chunks of mangled flesh.

As the dust in the area dispersed, Kong Wu stood gripping the blade with both hands. Beneath him, the old man knelt on one knee, raising both hands to keep the zhanmadao from descending.

The ground beneath him was cracked and caved inward.

The old man's eyes were webbed with blood vessels as he glared viciously at Kong Wu.

Ever since he had become that one's believer, he had never knelt before anyone.

Yet today, this lowly flesh-and-blood sacrifice had actually forced his knee to touch the ground.

As if recalling some unbearable past, the old man roared and gathered all his strength to shove the zhanmadao above his head away.

Kong Wu took two steps back to steady himself, then looked at the old man before him and licked his lips.

Not bad!

Very good!

Such powerful strength—this was the first time he had encountered it since crossing over.

Then this fellow... should be able to provide quite a few attribute points, right?

Kong Wu grew excited.

Over the course of a year, he had searched all of Qingshan County without finding a single demon or monster.

The terrifying strength in his body had never once been given an outlet.

Now, he could finally move without restraint.

"Heh heh... hahahahaha!"

Kong Wu's laughter gradually grew unrestrained.

Seeing this, Skinny Monkey seemed to realize something. He suddenly turned around and began running.

As he ran, he shouted, "Get out of here, quick! Constable Kong is about to cut loose!"

Kong Wu charged toward the old man with a wild laugh.

Clang!

The blow that came straight down was slapped aside by the old man.

After witnessing Kong Wu's strength, he no longer dared to take the attack head-on and could only use skillful force to deflect the zhanmadao.

Even so, his palm, hard as black iron, felt a faint tingling ache.

After being knocked aside, the zhanmadao used the momentum to sweep around in a great arc before slashing over once more.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

The clashes of metal grew more and more frequent.

Gradually, the old man felt as though he had been swept into a storm. Blade edges surrounded him from every direction.

At first, he could still deftly deflect the zhanmadao's strikes, but little by little, he could only barely block them.

The blessing bestowed by that god could only make his hands as hard as black iron. The rest of his body was still made of flesh and blood.

Therefore, he could only grit his teeth and block every slash, not daring to relax for even an instant.

If even one blade struck his body, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Skinny Monkey looked at the place where a small storm had been whipped up and could not help swallowing.

"Brother Erhu, is that what you were talking about... Constable Kong's ultimate technique, Blood Cloak?"

Wang Erhu nodded beside him and said, still shaken, "That time, Constable Kong used this move against five mounted bandits. In the blink of an eye, the sky was filled with chunks of flesh and blood."

"Why is it called Blood Cloak?"

Nearby, a constable asked in confusion.

The instant he finished asking, he received his answer.

The old man was secretly suffering as the fellow before him seemed to possess inexhaustible strength. Nearly a hundred breaths had passed, yet the force transmitted through the zhanmadao had not diminished—it had only grown stronger.

At first, he had thought that such a fierce attack could not last. He planned to seize an opportunity to counterattack once Kong Wu was exhausted.

But now, Kong Wu's breathing remained deep and steady without the slightest sign of fatigue, while the old man, forced to defend, was nearly unable to hold on.

"No, if this continues, I definitely won't be able to hold out. I have to find a chance to escape..."

With that thought, the old man caught another slash.

Splurt!

A faint sound rang out, and a streak of red fluttered through the air.

The old man's eyes froze as he stared in horror at his left shoulder.

A wound an inch long had appeared there.

It was not very deep—just a minor flesh wound.

When had this happened...

He had clearly blocked the slash.

The old man was puzzled, but his hands did not dare slacken in the slightest. He desperately fended off Kong Wu's attacks.

But in the next moment, several more wounds suddenly appeared across his body.

Though they were not deep, if this continued and small injuries accumulated, he would eventually bleed to death.

Clang!

The old man caught another blow, but his steps beneath him began to grow disordered.

This time, he finally understood where the wounds had come from.

When he blocked the zhanmadao, the clothing over his chest seemed to have been sliced open by the air, the cut perfectly smooth.

"Blade aura?!"

The old man's eyes trembled, and he shouted instinctively.

And the wind swirling around him had, at some unknown point, taken on a faint crimson hue.