The Tyrant's Armor: Terrifying Recovery

She Long's face darkened. He pressed a firm hand onto Lin Feng's shoulder, pinning him in place. The veins on his forehead throbbed, and the reprimand that had reached his lips was forced back down his throat.

This was the Young Master's student, after all. If he scolded the boy too harshly and this little ancestor developed a grudge against the Martial Soul Hall or the Young Master, ten lives wouldn't be enough to pay the price.

"This old man is only worried about your safety. In the future, tell me before you do anything. I will try my best to cooperate with your plans, provided that the premise is safety, safety, and more safety!"

As he spoke, he sighed helplessly and gave a light wave of his hand.

A cold light flashed, and Zhou Man's head hit the ground, rolling to the side—dead as a doornail.

"There, it's safe now."

Though his words were resigned, he felt no actual resentment.

This little ancestor might be greedy and impulsive, but he was also a priceless treasure. The thrill of his combat power doubling out of thin air was a peak experience he hadn't felt in all his years of living.

Lin Feng keenly sensed the shift in She Long's attitude, moving from merely following orders to indulgence and high regard, which gave him a strange feeling.

It seemed the status of a top-tier healer was even higher than he had imagined; even a peak expert at the Title Douluo level was treating him with such courtesy.

He didn't dwell on it, instead crouching down excitedly and nimbly rummaging through Zhou Man's body.

"Whoa, this Gold Jade Ring—looking at the quality, it's worth at least three thousand Gold Soul Coins!"

"Hiss! There's even a storage Soul Tool."

Lin Feng quickly pulled the storage ring off Zhou Man's finger, sensed its contents, and smacked his lips.

"Only ten cubic meters, a bit small, unfortunately."

But the next second, when he saw the items packed inside, his eyes lit up and his heart surged with joy.

There were all sorts of shimmering gemstone necklaces, rare treasures, and a small mountain of Gold Soul Coins. Beside them lay several high-quality blades that clearly looked expensive.

"Good heavens! This old guy was truly loaded. He carried over a hundred thousand Gold Soul Coins on him; I've really struck it rich this time."

On the other side, With a dull roar, Zhao Wuji, aided by Flender, smashed a heavy fist into the last Soul Saint's Avatar of the Martial Soul, bringing the battle to a definitive end.

Lin Feng looked up and saw the twenty-plus wounds of varying depths crisscrossing Zhao Wuji's body, his clothes soaked in blood. He hurried over, his mind shifting.

He first unequipped the Thornmail, then immediately swapped it for the Tyrant's Armor.

"Uncle Zhao, thank you for your hard work. Let me heal you up."

No sooner had Zhao Wuji caught his breath than he clearly felt the internal injuries from the fierce battle and the lacerations on his skin being rapidly repaired by a gentle, surging life force. The speed was astonishing.

What shocked him even more was that, three seconds later, that powerful life-recovery force suddenly surged, doubling in intensity!

Under the passive effect of the Tyrant's Armor—recovering 1% of maximum health per second—the wounds that had been oozing blood began to scab and heal at a speed visible to the naked eye, even the torn muscles and meridians knitting back together.

In just over ten seconds, the injuries on his body seemed as if they had never existed, leaving not even a single scar behind.

She Long stood to the side, clearly sensing Zhao Wuji's aura returning to its peak state within just a few breaths.

His pupils constricted, and a monstrous wave rose in his heart.

This... this powerful healing ability is in no way inferior to the Nine Heart Begonia, which is said to heal anything short of death!

The most crucial part was that Lin Feng looked completely relaxed, as if he didn't have to pay any price at all. In this aspect alone, he was far more powerful than the Nine Heart Begonia.

This kid is simply an inexhaustible treasure. Every move he makes is a surprise, each more terrifying than the last.

At the same time, he felt a secret sense of relief.

It was fortunate that the Young Master had the foresight to take Lin Feng as a student and bring him to their side.

Otherwise, if such a heaven-defying support were in the enemy camp, forget about sleeping soundly—they would have to eliminate him at any cost before he could grow up.

As he was thinking this, She Long saw his little ancestor staring fixedly at the four Soul Saint corpses on the ground, his eyes glowing with gold. He shook his head helplessly, raised his Snake Lance, and gave it a light wave.

A cyan-purple edge flashed and vanished in an instant.

The four Soul Saints lying on the ground were instantly decapitated, dead as dead could be.

Lin Feng grinned at him.

"Uncle Long, thanks!"

With that, he flashed forward, pounced on the four corpses, and enthusiastically began his looting spree.

"Whoa! A Small Gold Pocket Watch, at least 300 Gold Soul Coins... no, wait, why is it damaged? Sigh, I guess it can still sell for eighty."

"Another storage Soul Tool. As expected, this Blood Wolf didn't do many honest things in his life! I suppose I'm just ridding the world of evil."

"Black silk? And it's damaged? Disgusting. Seriously, what kind of stuff is this?"

Watching Lin Feng clutching a pile of rare treasures and those storage rings, Flender, standing to the side, was truly green with envy.

His eyes rolled, and remembering the corpses of the Soul Kings and Soul Emperors that had been taken out by the Dragon Soldiers earlier, he didn't say a word, flashed away, and began his own search.

Zhao Wuji stood to the side with his arms crossed, watching the old man and the boy rummaging through the corpses. His mouth twitched, unable to bear the sight, and he muttered with disdain:

"Truly, what a damn embarrassment."

"Uncle Zhao, you just don't get it!"

Lin Feng didn't even look up. His eyes lit up the moment he picked up a fist-sized pink gemstone, and he retorted, "This isn't scavenging; this is clearly a legacy left behind by fallen experts for those fated to find it. Whoa... another score! This pink gem is huge!"

He dug through the pile with increasing enthusiasm, addicted to the thrill of this blind-box-like experience, never knowing what treasure he might unearth the next second.

Half an hour later, Lin Feng happily tallied up his haul.

He had fished out three storage Soul Tools, each with a capacity of a few cubic meters. Though not large, they were packed to the brim.

Just the total value of the gold and Silver Soul Coins alone amounted to three hundred thousand, enough to form a small mountain if piled together.

This figure far exceeded his expectations, and he was grinning so wide his mouth was nearly reaching his ears.

Beyond that, there was a pile of high-quality precious gems, though unfortunately, most had been cracked or chipped by the shockwaves during the earlier fight, turning perfectly good treasures into battle-damaged goods.

Watching this, Lin Feng clutched his chest, his heart bleeding with regret.

Just then, a loud "boom" echoed!

Dust billowed and gravel flew within the ruins as the entrance to a pitch-black secret passage suddenly appeared before everyone.

Flender brushed the dust off his clothes, stepped out of the haze, and adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Found it. Just as I suspected, that old dog Zhou Man would definitely build a treasure vault right under his own nose."

"How did you know?"

Lin Feng lunged toward the entrance of the passage, his eyes full of surprise, before he curled his lips into a teasing smirk.

"Yo, I never would have guessed, Dean! You've got quite a bit of experience, don't you? Come on, 'fess up—how many times have you done this treasure-raiding business?"

Flender snorted and took the lead, stepping into the dark passage.

"If you don't keep your treasure vault in your own lair, are you supposed to leave it outside for people to steal? Besides, that's how it's written in all the storybooks."