The Man Behind the Scenes
The Man Behind the Scenes
The man carried the Mourning Stick as he walked over to Wu Feng and swung it at him.
The stick came crashing down, striking Wu Feng squarely in the back.
The instant he was hit, Wu Feng felt as though his entire being was about to be shattered, body and soul.
Wu Feng let out a pained growl.
Spitting blood, the man said weakly, "You should still come with me. You need to understand that this Mourning Stick isn't something to be trifled with. Before ten strikes, even if you're a Primordial Saint, you'll still die!"
"You worked so hard to cultivate yourself to the pinnacle of sainthood, yet now you're about to have your soul scattered. Isn't that a pity? If you surrender, I promise I won't hit you."
The man coaxed him patiently, raising his stick. The second strike had yet to fall.
Wu Feng gritted his teeth, spat out a mouthful of golden heart blood, and said calmly, "What the hell are you talking about? I can see you're suffering too. You're having an awful time as well. Let's trade one life for another."
The black-clad man was enraged once again. He suddenly roared and brought down the second strike, hitting Wu Feng.
Wu Feng desperately activated every protective treasure he had, but the moment they touched the Mourning Stick, they were all knocked away.
The stick slammed solidly into Wu Feng's head.
Wu Feng had nearly been beaten back into human form. Streaks of blood appeared across his face.
Wu Feng stuck out his tongue, licked the golden blood from his lips, and stared at the black-clad man through clenched teeth without saying a word.
Seeing Wu Feng persist like this, the man could only sigh.