Leg-Breaking

The thunderous crash of Wei Dayong ramming the door was especially jarring in the silent night. He panted heavily, his right hand gripping the curled-blade saber as he stared fixedly at the trembling door panel.

Just then,

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Four figures vaulted over the courtyard wall like hawks, landing lightly and silently more than a zhang in front of Wei Dayong. All four wore dark blue-green martial outfits and carried uniformly styled sabers at their waists. Their faces were hard, their eyes sharp as blades, and the Killing Intent radiating from them was far more cutting than that of the two gate guards just now. They spread out in a half arc, instantly sealing off every route of retreat.

The leader was a tall, thin man with a scar across his cheek. He coldly swept a glance over the two gate guards lying on the ground, their fates unknown, before fixing his gaze on the blood-soaked Wei Dayong. His voice rasped like iron scraping against iron:

"Rebellion? You dare kill people on the General of the Middle Army's turf?"

Pressure descended like a mountain. Wei Dayong could sense that any one of these four was far stronger than those two men from before! But he had nowhere left to retreat. His bloodshot eyes glared at the scar-faced man. "I told you! I only want to save my daughter! Hand over the Nightmare that harmed her, and I'll leave at once! I have no intention of making an enemy of you, much less of the General of the Middle Army!"

"Hahahaha!" At the scar-faced man's side, a short, stocky man seemed to have heard the funniest joke in the world and burst into wild laughter. "You attacked and killed someone, and you still want to leave? You still want to demand something? You peasant! Did slaughtering pigs muddle your head?"

The tall, thin scar-faced man raised a hand, and the stocky man's laughter stopped dead. The scar-faced man stared at Wei Dayong and slowly said, "No matter why you came, now that you've drawn blood and disturbed this place's peace, you'll have to leave your life behind."

Before his words had even faded, all four moved at once! There were no shouts and no unnecessary words; their coordination was so perfect that they seemed like a single person. The tall, thin scar-faced man charged straight ahead, driving a vicious hand blade toward Wei Dayong's throat, swift as lightning! On the left, the stocky man lowered his body and swept at Wei Dayong's legs. On the right, one man swung a fist at his temple while another held two fingers together like a halberd and thrust straight toward the fatal acupoint at his waist! Their attacks were ruthless and devious, sealing off every inch of space above, below, left, and right. Clearly, this was a battle formation assault honed through years of training, meant to kill in a single instant!

Wei Dayong's pupils contracted. At the brink of life and death, the savage aura he had suppressed deep within his body could no longer remain hidden. It erupted with a boom!

"Ah!"

He let out a violent roar that sounded nothing like a human voice. His vital energy steamed around him like boiling water, and an aura far more immense and solid than before shot into the sky! A faint bronze sheen rose across the surface of his skin. Though nowhere near as obvious as Wang Quan's, it was unmistakably an aura beyond that of an ordinary martial man—the Mortal Transformation Realm! This seemingly ordinary veteran of the guard station had actually been concealing Mortal Transformation Realm strength all along!

With the eruption, Wei Dayong's speed and strength surged. He abruptly turned his head, narrowly evading the scar-faced man's throat-sealing strike, while simultaneously sweeping his saber upward to block the fist smashing toward his temple. With a clang, sparks flew everywhere, and the puncher was jolted half a step backward, surprise flashing across his face.

But Wei Dayong could not defend against everything at once. The stocky man's sweeping kick struck his lower leg squarely. The faint sound of cracking bone rang out, and pain stabbed into his heart! He staggered, and the finger thrust toward his waist had already reached him!

"Pfft!"

The fingertip pierced like a steel awl, viciously stabbing into Wei Dayong's right waist. Though he tensed his muscles at the critical moment and dispersed part of the force, it still sank an inch into his flesh, dragging out a spray of blood. Wei Dayong grunted and used the momentum to retreat rapidly, trying to open up some distance.

"Trying to leave?" The tall, thin scar-faced man followed him like a shadow. He had seen that Wei Dayong's aura was unstable after the outburst; clearly, he had either broken through not long ago or forcibly stimulated his potential. With a cold laugh, he turned his palm into a claw, his five fingers curling like hooks as they tore through the air with a shrill whistle and reached for Wei Dayong's chest! If that claw landed solidly, it could rip his heart out!

Wei Dayong had nowhere to dodge. A ruthless glint flashed through his eyes, and instead of blocking, he poured all his strength into his right arm. His curled-blade saber swept toward the scar-faced man's waist with the momentum of dragging them both into death! It was a desperate move in which both sides would suffer!

The scar-faced man clearly had not expected his opponent to be so utterly fearless of death. He had no desire to trade his life for that of a cornered Mortal Transformation Realm fighter. His claw slowed slightly, changing into a palm strike that slammed into the side of the saber.

"Clang!"

The web between Wei Dayong's thumb and forefinger split wide, and the saber flew from his hand. The lingering force of the scar-faced man's palm also shook Wei Dayong's chest until it felt stifled, and sweetness rose in his throat.

At the instant when his old force had been exhausted and his new force had yet to arise, the other three had already closed in again. Fists, feet, and palms fell upon Wei Dayong like a storm. He barely protected his vital points, but two fists could not fight four hands—especially not four skilled fighters who worked together seamlessly and were all far from weak.

"Bang!" A heavy punch smashed into his ribs, breaking them.

"Crack!" A kick struck the side of his knee, twisting and deforming his left leg.

"Pfft!" A heavy palm slammed into his back, and blood sprayed wildly from his mouth.

Wei Dayong was like a torn sack. He was beaten off the ground, then crashed heavily onto the cold stone pavement and rolled several times. Covered in blood, he lay there with more breath going out than coming in. The aura that had erupted from him quickly withered, and the faint bronze sheen on his body vanished as well.

The tall, thin scar-faced man slowly paced forward and looked down at Wei Dayong, who lay on the ground like a puddle of rotten mud. He raised his foot. Dust and blood stained the sole of his boot as he slowly, yet with crushing weight, planted it on the calf of Wei Dayong's only leg that was still more or less intact.

"Crack!"

The clear, teeth-grating sound of bones shattering rang through the deathly silent alley, especially harsh to the ears.

Wei Dayong's body jerked violently. The veins on his forehead bulged, and his eyes protruded, flooded with blood. He opened his mouth wide, his throat emitting hoarse, rattling gasps. His entire body trembled violently from the unbearable pain, cold sweat mingling with blood. Yet he clenched his teeth with all his might. His lips split open from the bite, and blood ran down the corners of his mouth, but he truly did not let out a scream.

A strange glint flashed through the scar-faced man's eyes before turning into even deeper coldness. He applied a little more force with his foot, grinding against the broken bone.

Wei Dayong's body shuddered again. He struggled to raise his head, blood and sweat mixing across his face. The ferocity and violence in his eyes had been replaced by endless pain and pleading. He looked at the scar-faced man, his voice hoarse and broken, trembling with sobs, each word like blood being wept:

"Please... please... give me the Nightmare... to me... my daughter... can't hold on..."

"You can take my life... I, Wei Dayong... have nothing to say... I accept it..."

"But she's still so young... she's only six... she doesn't know anything... please... give her a chance to live..."

Seeing this man, who had fought with such ferocity moments ago, now pleading miserably like a lame old dog, the stocky man behind the scar-faced man could no longer restrain himself and burst into laughter, his voice filled with cruel delight:

"Hahahahaha! Your life? How much is your life worth? In Anping County, the General of the Middle Army can do whatever he wants! Your lives, including that little girl's, all belong to the lord!"

Another man also sneered. "Exactly! What a pitiful simpleton! You still want a chance to live? If the lord wants to use your lives, that's your 'fortune'!"

"Hahahaha!" The four men looked at the wretched Wei Dayong on the ground as though they were watching a farce. Their mocking laughter echoed through the alley.

The light in Wei Dayong's eyes went out bit by bit. The pleading froze on his face, leaving behind only hollow despair and dead silence. He lay on the ground without moving, the faint rise and fall of his chest the only proof that he was still alive. But those eyes were already no different from a dead man's.

The tall, thin scar-faced man withdrew his foot and waved indifferently. "Drag him inside. Don't kill him. The lord might still be interested in those Mortal Transformation Realm bones of his."

Two subordinates answered and stepped forward. Like men dragging a dead dog, they grabbed Wei Dayong by the arms and hauled him toward the slowly opening side door. Two long, horrifying streaks of blood remained on the ground behind him.

The side door closed heavily behind Wei Dayong with a muffled bang, completely cutting off the outside world. An indescribable stench rushed at them, mixed with rotting flesh, medicinal liquid, blood, and some strange fishy odor. It was nearly suffocating.

Wei Dayong was roughly thrown onto the cold, damp floor, and the pain blackened his vision. He barely opened his blood-clogged eyes and saw the scene before him. His stomach lurched violently.

This was no warehouse. It was plainly a huge, sinister underground workshop! Bottles and jars of every size, filthy beyond measure, were piled everywhere. Some held indescribable organs or severed limbs steeped in liquid, while others bubbled with strange gurgles. All kinds of bizarre knives, hooks, and chains hung from the walls, stained with dark-red filth. Even more horrifyingly, under the dim, wavering light of the oil lamps, there were "people" huddled in the corners or lying directly on the ground—if they could still be called people. Most were incomplete. Some had grown extra limbs, some had ulcerated skin oozing pus, and some stared blankly while emitting unconscious moans. It was practically an expanded, hellish version of Madman Xu's room!

"My lord, we caught a live one—a Mortal Transformation Realm fighter. Please take a look..." the tall, thin scar-faced man respectfully said to a hunched figure deep within the workshop.

The figure slowly turned around. It was a skinny old man who looked like a skeleton, wearing a gray robe covered in unidentified stains. The wrinkles on his face were deep enough to trap flies, yet his eyes were exceptionally bright, glittering with an almost insane, greedy light. He held a slender little knife, whose tip was still dripping with dark-red liquid.

"Oh?" The old man's voice was hoarse, like a broken bellows being pumped. He slowly walked over, his murky eyes scanning Wei Dayong, who lay on the ground like a puddle of mud, as though assessing a piece of merchandise. "Mortal Transformation Realm? His aura is weak and unsteady, he broke through not long ago, and his foundation isn't particularly stable... Hmm, so-so. He barely passes inspection. He'll do as 'medicinal material.'"

He extended a withered finger like a bird's claw and pointed through the air at Wei Dayong's fractured leg, seemingly sensing the residual fluctuations of vital energy. Then he shook his head with some dissatisfaction. "Still not enough... The best 'vessels' require special bloodlines or bone structures. This one will have to do. Let's see whether he can survive the 'Monster Fusion' stage."

Listening to the old man evaluate him in the tone one might use to discuss medicinal ingredients, Wei Dayong felt cold all over. But his daughter's pale little face flashed through his mind, and the will to live and his paternal love overwhelmed his fear. Using the last of his strength, he struggled to raise his head and rasped, "The Nightmare... remove the 'Nightmare' that harmed my daughter! Let my daughter go! I... I'll give you my life! Do whatever you want to me! I'll willingly become your test subject!"

"Hm?" The hunched old man, who had been about to turn around, suddenly stopped. He whipped around, his pair of crazed eyes locking onto Wei Dayong with knife-like sharpness. "You... you actually know it's a 'Nightmare'? And you even know about 'test subjects'?"

The trace of nonchalance vanished from his face, replaced by a sinister, murderous gloom, as though a taboo had been touched. "Was it that madman surnamed Xu from the western part of the city who told you? Hmph! Him again! That damned old ghost who refuses to disappear! If not for... if not for the lord's order forbidding me from touching him for now, I would have..."

He stopped halfway, apparently realizing that he had misspoken. A string of chilling, low laughs rumbled from his throat. "Heh heh heh... heh heh heh... Good. Since you know a little of the truth and are 'willing' to offer yourself, you've saved me quite a bit of trouble. Don't worry. You'll be put to 'full use.' As for your daughter..."

The old man bent down. His face, covered in wrinkles and age spots, drew almost right up to Wei Dayong's. His breath carried the stench of a rotting corpse as he revealed an utterly cruel smile. "Once she's no longer useful, she'll naturally be made into the finest nourishment. Perhaps... she can even reunite with you, her father, in one of my precious jars. Heh heh heh... hahahahaha!"

The mad laughter echoed through the foul-smelling underground workshop, making the blood run cold.

Wei Dayong's eyes bulged with fury. Despair and rage burned through his organs like poisonous fire. He wanted to roar and fight to the death, but his gravely injured body and ebbing strength left him unable to move even a finger. He could only glare fixedly at the old man's twisted face, desperate whimpers like those of a trapped beast rasping from his throat.

The old man straightened and waved a hand, ordering the tall, thin scar-faced man, "Drag him to the initial refinement room. Use Spirit Sealing Needles to seal the vital energy he has left. Don't let him die. Once I'm finished dealing with the one in my hands, I'll process him."