He had thought the Black Funeral Bell would spare him after its friendly conversation with the Rusty Sword, but Lu Feng had never expected that, rather than retreating, it would charge straight at him.
Rabbit-spawned bastard, I'm going to die! Lu Feng inwardly cursed the Rusty Sword. What a useless piece of work. You wouldn't help me before, and now look-the other fellow is coming for me.
He instinctively turned and ran, but how could he possibly outrun it? His surroundings suddenly went black, and a deafening toll rang out.
Lu Feng's liver and gall nearly split with terror. The Black Great Bell had already enveloped him, leaving him nowhere to flee.
Wonderful. Now I'm a turtle in a jar, Lu Feng thought, utterly helpless.
He swung the Rusty Sword to cleave the great bell, but the sword froze in place, refusing to move no matter what he did.
Bong! A toll shook Lu Feng until his entire body went numb. Yet the Black Funeral Bell did not attack him. Instead, it carried him upward at tremendous speed.
Its speed defied description, far beyond anything Lu Feng's Greased-Soles Cultivation Technique could achieve.
Though he had no reference points to judge by, he could vaguely sense that it covered ten thousand miles in the blink of an eye.
If it isn't killing me, could it be planning to imprison me?
Whether because of the toll's earlier effects or for some other reason, Lu Feng could not stop imagining the worst.
The thought left Lu Feng wanting to cry but unable to shed a tear. Heaven knew how he would explain to anyone that a Magic Treasure had locked him up. He might even have to become its slave. How could he ever face the two young ladies again?
The Black Funeral