Death Threat

These apprentices, manipulated by the evil spirit, possessed strength far exceeding their previous capabilities. One by one, they threw themselves at Jiang Feng, fearless of death and attacking with everything they had.

However, because their innate foundations were abysmal, the gap between them and Jiang Feng—a seventh-stage Blood-Moving Realm Martial Apprentice who had mastered a powerful technique—was vast.

Furthermore, the Iron Stake Technique was a discipline renowned for tempering the physique, placing the utmost importance on honing the waist, abdomen, and legs. Once mastered, it not only significantly increased physical strength but also allowed for incredibly precise control over one's muscles.

Though Jiang Feng had not studied any specific movement arts, he was astonishingly agile as he shifted and dodged. Amidst the siege of seven, not a single one could even graze his clothes. Instead, he precisely seized every opening, claiming a life with every strike of his blade, clean and efficient.

In an instant, all seven apprentices were reduced to mangled corpses, lying in a chaotic heap on the ground, devoid of any further movement.

Jiang Feng's aura did not wane; it surged. With a violent stomp of his foot, he dragged his Ghost-Head Blade and charged ferociously toward the dark shadow.

The shadow had never expected that such a fierce character could emerge from this group of bottom-feeders. A whole group had besieged him, yet they were all wiped out without even touching the hem of his garment.

It finally felt the urge to retreat, its voice tinged with panic:

"Wait! I think... we can still talk about this—"

A fierce, savage look rose on Jiang Feng's face. He slammed his foot into the ground, leaping high into the air. His Ghost-Head Blade, wrapped in the crimson light of his life-blood, slashed down ruthlessly at the dark shadow.

"Then why don't you have a good talk with my blade!"

The moment the Ghost-Head Blade struck the pitch-black figure, it emitted a chilling, sharp screech, as if a drop of cold water had splashed into a pot of boiling oil. The dark figure shuddered violently, then erupted into a hair-raising, piercing howl.

Jiang Feng's heart leaped, a flash of joy crossing his eyes: It really works! Ordinary physical means can't hurt it—I have to use life-blood!

This discovery caused the last remnants of fear in his heart to dissipate instantly. Fear always stemmed from the unknown, but once the opponent's weakness was exposed and he held a weapon capable of killing it, the roles of hunter and prey were quietly reversed.

Seeing that the shadow had not yet dissipated, Jiang Feng did not stop. He poured more of his life-blood into the Ghost-Head Blade, the crimson light on the blade growing increasingly intense as he pressed his advantage, slashing down again and again.

Having endured that terrifying blow, the dark figure had already grown fearful of Jiang Feng, its voice becoming hurried: "Wait! Stop! I am willing to leave right now!"

Jiang Feng sneered, his blade momentum not slowing in the slightest: "Trying to run now? Isn't it a bit late? Leave your life here; I really want to taste what it's like to kill an evil spirit!"

With a fierce, peerless horizontal slash, the dark figure was cleaved clean in two.

Immediately, a wail, even more shrill and agonizing than before, exploded within the warehouse.

"Fine, fine, fine! Since you refuse to let me go, then don't expect to have an easy time either!

When my true form finds you, I will make sure you die in the most miserable way possible!"

Before the piercing howl had even faded, Jiang Feng's third strike, fully charged with life-blood, had already descended.

But before the blade could make contact, the dark figure suddenly exploded, transforming into a mass of thick black mist that lunged straight at Jiang Feng's face.

Jiang Feng's pupils contracted. Instinctively, he tried to mobilize the life-blood in his body to defend himself, but it was at this moment that he realized with horror that the life-blood he had struggled to replenish had been drained completely dry, leaving him with no strength left.

He subconsciously twisted his body to dodge, hoping to evade the strike with his footwork, but he was a step too late.

The moment the black mist touched his body, it seemed to transform into countless tiny black snakes, drilling into his body through his seven orifices.

Jiang Feng's eyes widened, the veins all over his body bulging. He felt as if he had been thrown into a purgatory alternating between raging flames and an icy cellar, enduring unspeakable agony.

His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, and a moment later, he plunged into total darkness.

He did not know how much time had passed, but when Jiang Feng opened his eyes again, the sky had already turned dark.

"I... I should still be alive."

He struggled to climb up from the ground, his gaze sweeping across his surroundings. He was still in the station's warehouse, and the mangled corpses remained where they had fallen.

His consciousness gradually cleared, and the scenes from before he blacked out flooded back into his mind.

"That evil spirit... what exactly did it do to me? It seemed to turn into a black mist and crawl into my body."

As he thought this, a piercing, agonizing pain suddenly erupted from within him. It was so intense he could barely stand straight, and he collapsed back to the ground.

The pain lasted for a full quarter of an hour before slowly subsiding, as if something had been churning inside him before settling down to lie in wait.

Jiang Feng immediately tore open his collar to look down. Right in the center of his chest, a dense patch of pitch-black markings had emerged.

He reached out to touch them, and the markings seemed to squirm slightly, as if some living thing were lurking beneath his skin.

"What the hell is this!"

Jiang Feng immediately sat cross-legged, circulating the Exquisite Breathing Method to mobilize his life-blood and force it toward the black markings on his chest.

If his life-blood could harm the evil spirit, it should be able to drive out whatever it had left behind.

But as soon as he began, he noticed another, even more alarming anomaly: the life-blood in his body had decayed several times over compared to before, becoming pitifully thin.

If he had once been a vigorous young man full of vitality, his current life-blood was like that of an eighty-year-old on his deathbed—collapsing at the slightest touch.

Jiang Feng suppressed the rising unease in his heart and continued to gather his life-blood toward his chest.

About an hour later, he opened his eyes again and looked down. The strange markings had indeed withered and dimmed slightly, but before he could even heave a sigh of relief, he watched as they recovered to their original state at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Furthermore, as time passed, they showed signs of spreading, gradually creeping toward his heart.

Jiang Feng had a premonition that when these black markings completely covered his heart, that would be the moment of his death.

His brows knit together: "What on earth is this... I've exhausted so much life-blood, and I still can't purge it."

After a moment of thought, he decided to set aside the changes in his body for now.

For one, the remaining life-blood in his body was nearly exhausted, and he could not afford a second attempt; for another, he had to leave this place as soon as possible.

The words the evil spirit had spoken as it exploded before he lost consciousness still echoed in his ears: When my true form finds you, I will make sure you die in the most miserable way possible!

This was by no means a hollow threat before death.

That dark shadow had been nothing more than a puppet of the evil spirit, yet it had been so difficult to deal with.

Jiang Feng could conclude with near certainty that if he were to face the true form of the evil spirit, he would have absolutely no room to resist.