Wind Spirit Spear Luo Feng, Nicknamed Soul-Breaker Rival?

He only felt his blood and qi churn within him, and the Wind Spirit Spear in his hand nearly slipped free!

"Who goes there?!"

Luo Feng spun around sharply, his pupils suddenly contracting.

Not far away, a black silhouette glided toward them like a great bird.

Only after it landed did he make out two figures, one old and one young.

The elder was tall and lean, with black hair falling behind his shoulders. His back was ramrod straight, like a javelin.

The younger one was around six years old. A faint golden light flickered between his brows, and merely meeting his gaze sent a stab of pain through the eyes.

The child's gaze did not linger on him, instead remaining fixed on the dying Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff.

Yang Wudi, on the other hand, first looked at the Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff, already riddled with wounds, then at the trembling cub beneath it, and finally at Luo Feng.

His brows furrowed slightly.

Noticing Yang Wudi's gaze, Luo Feng's heart trembled. An invisible pressure bore down on him, making him instinctively tighten his grip on the Wind Spirit Spear.

"Luo Feng of the Wind Spirit Spear, a level seventy-three battle Soul Saint, nicknamed Soul-Breaker Rival."

He announced his identity, as though doing so could give him a little more confidence.

Then, he did not forget to ask Yang Wudi's name.

"May I ask your name, sir?"

Yang Jian's attention had been drawn to the Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff. He looked Luo Feng over, noting his somewhat bedraggled appearance, and a strange look appeared on his face.

Soul-Breaker Rival? He really hadn't left himself the slightest way out.

Yang Wudi let out a soft chuckle. Yet the smile was faint, so faint that it carried not the least trace of warmth.

"Soul-Breaker Rival?"

He savored the three words, his tone betraying neither anger nor pleasure.

"A fine name."

He stepped forward. Moonlight shone upon his ruddy face, carrying an indescribable hint of amusement.

"This old man is unworthy of the name. Soul-Breaker Spear, Yang Wudi."

At that instant, both the wind in the valley and Luo Feng's smile froze.

Soul-Breaker Spear, Soul-Breaker Rival... he had run into the real deal!

And he was the patriarch of the Breaking Clan, a Soul Douluo! There were even rumors that his attack power had already reached the level of a Title Douluo!

Cold sweat instantly soaked Luo Feng's back.

His gaze swept the surroundings as he rapidly calculated a way to escape.

Fight head-on? Impossible.

He was only a Soul Saint. Even at full strength, he would have had no chance against Yang Wudi, much less now, when he was badly wounded. Facing him now meant certain death.

After half a breath of silence, Luo Feng plastered a fawning smile onto his face. He clasped his hands and bowed deeply to Yang Wudi.

"A misunderstanding. It was all nonsense spread by outsiders. Since Clan Head Yang has taken a liking to this soul beast, I shall take my leave at once."

As he spoke, he backed away, his attitude humble to the extreme.

Had it been anyone else, they would surely have believed that Luo Feng was sincerely retreating and lowered their guard somewhat.

But Yang Wudi was someone who had survived Spirit Hall's ambushes. Luo Feng's tricks were nothing more than a ridiculously clownish performance in his eyes.

He merely watched Luo Feng speak and retreat, his gaze as calm as if he were looking at a dead man.

Once Luo Feng had backed away more than ten steps and widened the distance between them—

Seven Soul Rings instantly appeared beneath his feet, and black light blossomed from the sixth, ten-thousand-year Soul Ring.

Luo Feng flicked his right hand and threw the Wind Spirit Spear into the air.

The Wind Spirit Spear shook violently in midair. Its shaft quivered, releasing a piercing hum.

One became two, two became four...

In an instant, countless spear shadows filled the sky, directly occupying half the heavens.

Even the moonlight seemed obscured. The valley was left with only the faint cyan glow cast by the spear shadows overhead.

"Go!"

With Luo Feng's low shout, innumerable spear shadows shrieked in unison. Yet they did not fly toward Yang Wudi, but toward the thin, frail Yang Jian not far away.

At the same time, the second yellow Soul Ring beneath Luo Feng's feet lit up. Two currents of wind wrapped around his legs, and he turned, pouncing toward the dying Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff like a gust of wind.

Or, more precisely, toward the curled-up Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff cub.

Between fighting head-on and begging for mercy, Luo Feng made a third choice—he decided to snatch something and run.

Watching the howling spear shadows descend, a cold sneer surfaced on Yang Wudi's grim face.

He stepped forward and soared into the air. When he reappeared, he was already standing before Yang Jian.

The black, dragon-like Soul-Breaker Spear flew from his palm, and he gripped it steadily in his hand.

The first Soul Ring beneath his feet shone with yellow light.

First Soul Skill—Quake!

An invisible force of vibration spread from Yang Wudi. The surrounding air churned as though a massive boulder had been cast into a tranquil lake, raising monstrous waves!

In an instant, the invisible force of vibration collided with the spear shadows filling the sky.

"Boom—!"

A deafening explosion erupted!

Those hundreds of menacing spear shadows were as brittle as paper before the force of vibration.

One after another, cluster after cluster, they shattered all at once!

They ultimately turned into countless cyan motes of light and vanished into nothingness.

Luo Feng's ten-thousand-year Soul Skill had been shattered by Yang Wudi's single hundred-year Soul Skill!

When Luo Feng turned and saw this scene, his pupils contracted sharply into pinpoints, filled with terror.

He had lived for over sixty years, yet he had never seen such a horrifying disparity.

Both possessed spear martial souls, yet his ten-thousand-year Soul Ring could not even compare to one of the other man's hundred-year Soul Rings?

Was this the strength of a Soul Douluo?

No, that wasn't right!

Yang Wudi himself was simply too powerful!

Now, only one thought remained in his mind—use every trump card he had!

Pushing off with his feet, Luo Feng's right leg suddenly erupted with sinister ghostly qi.

The ghostly qi was black as ink. It spread upward from his leg, instantly enveloping his entire body.

Once covered by the ghostly qi, Luo Feng's entire figure became blurred. He was like an elusive phantom; not only did his speed surge, but even his figure became difficult to track.

This was his most secret trump card: a Ghost Shadow Right Leg Bone nearing ten thousand years in age. Relying on this Soul Bone, he had escaped death countless times.

A flash of madness crossed his eyes. Luo Feng clamped a hand around Little Golden-Haired Lion Mastiff's neck, turned, and sprinted toward the mouth of the valley.

He was confident that with his current speed, comparable to that of a Soul Douluo, Yang Wudi—whom he had briefly restrained—would definitely be unable to catch him.

Almost there! Just a little farther!

Looking at the valley entrance less than a hundred meters away, wild joy filled Luo Feng's eyes.

"Luo Feng!"

At that moment, a childish yet commanding cry exploded in his mind like thunder.

The voice did not come from beside his ears, but emerged directly from the depths of his consciousness, striking at his soul.

He instinctively turned his head, only to meet a golden vertical eye.

It was the third eye that had appeared between Yang Jian's brows. Its golden pupil held none of human emotion, only an abyssal, ocean-deep indifference.

The instant their eyes met, Luo Feng's consciousness was completely seized by the golden vertical eye between Yang Jian's brows.

He forgot everything. It seemed as though only that golden vertical eye remained in his vision.

He did not even notice that he had already left that elusive ghost-shadow state...