Chapter Twenty-Two: Peril

Zhao Yang was startled by the sound and quickly addressed the others, “We’ve been discovered. Everyone, prepare for battle.”

At his words, the group scrambled to find places to hide. Just then, the mountainside suddenly split open with a crack, and a shaft of light shone out from within. A figure stepped out and looked in the direction of Liu Feng and the others’ hiding spot. “Don’t bother hiding,” he announced. “I’ve already found you.”

Knowing they had been spotted, Liu Feng and his companions decided there was no point in hiding any longer and walked out into the open. Bathed in moonlight, Liu Feng saw that the man appeared to be around twenty years old, of average build and unremarkable features, all dressed in black.

The man in black regarded the group, his gaze finally settling on Zhao Yang. “It’s you again. Last time, I spared your lives. I didn’t expect you’d have the nerve to follow me here,” he said.

Zhao Yang sneered at his words. “Stop boasting. You spared us? It was only because you sensed a powerful presence approaching that you fled in panic.”

The man in black replied, “Let’s not argue about the past. You’ve come this time to capture me and exchange me for contribution points at the academy, haven’t you?”

Wang Yue stepped forward. “Enough talk. If you know what’s good for you, surrender now. Otherwise, you’ll only suffer.”

The man in black’s expression showed disdain. “I, Yang Ming, have roamed the continent for years and fought hundreds of battles. You few greenhorns think you can capture me? Utterly delusional.”

Liu Feng’s face remained calm. “Enough with the talk. Let our skills do the speaking.”

Zhao Yang struck first, launching a punch at Yang Ming. A massive phantom fist appeared in midair, accompanied by a thunderous boom as it tore through the air toward its target. The force from the punch shattered nearby trees and even split rocks as it roared forward.

Yang Ming’s expression grew serious as he faced the oncoming blow. He moved swiftly, his fists a blur, and dozens of afterimages appeared before him, each one carrying the force to counter Zhao Yang’s giant fist.

With a resounding crash, the two forces collided, energy surging wildly and sending shards of stone and bursts of grass flying in all directions. Zhao Yang staggered back a step from the impact, while Yang Ming remained poised and undisturbed.

Seeing this, Liu Feng and the others joined the fight. Zhao Yu unleashed his Water Dragon Wave, summoning countless droplets formed from true essence to swirl around his palm. With a flick of his wrist, the droplets shot toward Yang Ming, whistling through the air like sharp blades.

Yang Ming’s form flickered, leaving behind several afterimages as he dodged Zhao Yu’s attack with ease.

Wang Yue’s fist followed, glowing with a dazzling light and radiating a heat that could scorch stone. The air was thick with the smell of burning fabric. Yet in the next instant, the glow on Wang Yue’s fist abruptly vanished, and he was hurled backward. Just as his punch was about to land, Yang Ming’s palm unleashed a suction force, drawing in the energy before flipping his hand and striking Wang Yue’s fist, forcing him to retreat.

Wang Yang slashed the air with his palm, sending out several blades of energy that sliced through the air toward Yang Ming. At the same time, Zhang Bing pressed two fingers together, and a broad sword aura flared from his fingertips as he cleaved at Yang Ming.

Yang Ming remained unfazed. With a gesture, he summoned true essence into each palm, forming two shields to intercept the incoming blades and sword aura.

Another explosion of force erupted as the attacks collided, sending gales howling and debris flying. The ground was left pitted and scarred with craters.

Liu Feng’s palm glowed with a sword aura so dense it was nearly solid, the air around it swirling in vortices and cracking with the sound of explosions. He swept his arm, and the sword aura, brimming with destructive power, howled toward Yang Ming.

Yang Ming’s expression grew grave as he faced this nearly tangible force. Letting out a mighty roar, he clenched his fists, which blazed with a piercing golden light, and met the sword aura head-on.

Where their blows collided, a blinding flash lit up the night like a bolt of lightning, its force chilling to the soul. The shockwave rattled Zhao Yang and the others, their clothes whipping in the wind.

Both Liu Feng and Yang Ming staggered back a step, blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.

“Impressive,” Yang Ming said in disbelief. “I’m at the peak of the Eighth Level of Qi Condensation, yet you’ve managed to injure me.”

Seeing Yang Ming wounded, Zhao Yang and his companions immediately pressed their attack. Fists, blades, sword auras, and droplets of water filled the air, each blow accompanied by deafening explosions.

Yang Ming’s fists danced, creating afterimages to parry the relentless onslaught. For a time, the battle was evenly matched.

But as time wore on, Yang Ming was gradually overwhelmed. Though his cultivation was higher, he was alone while his enemies had numbers on their side. Slowly but surely, Zhao Yang’s group began to gain the upper hand.

With a heavy blow, Zhao Yang struck Yang Ming’s back, sending him reeling. Yang Ming’s movements slowed, and several more attacks landed in quick succession, forcing him backward as he coughed up blood.

Snarling through gritted teeth as his opponents closed in, Yang Ming pulled out a strange flower—none other than the Soul Refining Blossom. Without hesitation, he stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.

Liu Feng immediately sensed a surge of power from Yang Ming, at least double what it had been moments before. Yang Ming glared at them, his eyes bloodshot with fury. “It’s all your fault I’ve had to use the Soul Refining Blossom ahead of time! I’ll make sure none of you leave here alive!”

Zhao Yang responded coldly, “You should have expected this outcome when you went around plundering resources and stealing from others.”

Zhao Yu added, “Today, we’ll capture you and hand you over to the Lord of Chiyang City. He will decide your fate.”

“Enough talk. Prepare to die!” Yang Ming roared in fury.

He charged at Liu Feng’s group like a madman, and they met him head-on. Empowered by the Soul Refining Blossom, Yang Ming’s strength soared, forcing Liu Feng and the others to retreat, each sustaining serious injuries.

Suddenly, Liu Feng spoke up. “If this continues, none of us will escape alive. We have to stake everything on one final attack.”

The others nodded grimly, pushing their true essence to the limit for one last strike.

In an instant, the air filled with flashing fists, roaring blades, and sword energy, as each of them poured all their remaining strength into the final assault. Life or death would be decided in this moment.

Explosions echoed through the night as Zhao Yang and the others were sent flying by the force of the collision, while Yang Ming, though spitting blood, remained standing.

With a cruel smile, Yang Ming advanced toward them. In a moment, he was upon Zhao Yang, raising his fist to strike down upon Zhao Yang’s head.

Zhao Yang closed his eyes, despair filling his heart. “So this is where it ends for me,” he thought.

Two thunderous crashes sounded in his ears. Yet, he felt no pain. Startled, Zhao Yang opened his eyes in disbelief.