Lin Feng's voice was a blade. "Azure Sword Art — Kill All Under Heaven!"
He slashed. A streak of dazzling scarlet light cleaved the night.
"Hmph!" the old man snorted, answering with a guttural chant. "Blood-Sucking Demon Art — Fifth Stance! Die!"
Their techniques slammed into each other with the force of colliding mountains.
Bang.
The shockwave tore through the camp. Lin Feng was hurled backward like a thrown stone — a full kilometer of earth and debris exploding under his feet — while the old man staggered and was forced to take seven angry steps back to regain his footing.
The old man's eyes widened. He tasted shock. "He truly is a monster," he murmured, voice edged with disbelief.
Lin Feng pressed his palm to his ribs, frowning. This old man is stronger than I expected, he thought, narrowing his eyes. He lunged again.
"Azure Sword Art — Fourth Stance!" Lin Feng roared.
The old man countered, his saber carving a bloody arc in the air. "Blood-Sucking Demon Art — Seventh Stance!"
Seventh stance? Lin Feng's mind raced. He cultivated the Demon-Sucking Art to the seventh level… did he have a fortuitous encounter? Despite the old man's strength, Lin Feng didn't hesitate. They collided — steel, will, and qi — moving so fast the air itself seemed to scream.
Bang. Bang.
They traded a hundred moves in a heartbeat, each exchange a blur of light and shadow. Then, with a thunderous crack, the old man was blown backward, spitting blood. He hit the ground hard, face drained of color.
The invaders froze. Their leader, injured. Impossible, they thought.
The old man's breaths came ragged. He cursed under his breath. "I was careless. I must use every trump card to win. I've been brought low by a young half-step Legend-grade expert… I must kill him to wash away this shame. What kind of body cultivation manual does he possess?" he muttered, fury and humiliation warring in his voice.
Lin Feng tasted copper on his tongue as blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. He smiled thinly. If not for my strong physique, I'd be at a disadvantage here. Time to test the bloodline.
The old man's eyes gleamed with savage curiosity. "Lin Feng, before you die, allow me to show you the special bloodline of the Blood Sect."
Boom.
The old man's cultivation spiked; his form shuddered as an ugly, demonic aura erupted from him. He transformed, features warping into something devilish. "Die, Lin Feng!"
"That's the famous Evil Demon bloodline of the Blood Sect," Zhao Yun muttered, awed despite himself.
Lin Feng laughed, a bright, mirthless sound. "What a pitiful bloodline. Before you kill me, you'll see mine."
Boom.
Behind Lin Feng, the Nine-Headed Devouring Dragon coalesced — nine serpentine necks, scales flashing like starlit obsidian. The presence was ancient and arrogant.
"You have a dragon bloodline," the old man spat. "How can that be?"
"Anything's possible," Lin Feng answered calmly.
Around them, even the invaders murmured. "Captain has a dragon bloodline," someone whispered. "He's only the third person on the continent with one. His master—"
"Shut up," Fatty muttered. "He only recently awakened it. What kind of dragon is it? Nine heads? Inform the master."
"Hmph," Lin Feng's new companion — the Nine-Headed Dragon — murmured with a grin only he could hear. The dragon emitted a thunderous roar that shook the tents.
"My bloodline's been suppressed," the old man hissed, panic sliding into his tone. "How could a Rank-One dragon bloodline suppress mine? Damn it!"
Lin Feng's grin widened. "Interesting. I like you already."
The old man launched his counterassault — Evil Demon Bloodline Art, First Stance! Then Second Stance! His form blurred, demonic power tearing at the sky.
Lin Feng closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, feeling the Nine-Headed Dragon coil inside his soul. He tested a newly learned step.
"Nine Dragons — Heaven-Treading Step, First Step!"
With a stomp of his right foot the world shifted. The Nine-Headed Dragon moved as one with him, the roar repeating in his ears. The dragon struck, and its endless jaws swallowed the old man's demonic essence.
Bang.
The old man was hurled backward, coughing up blood. "I told you your bloodline was trash," Lin Feng said, voice low and cutting. He dissolved into motion, vanishing from sight.
"Azure Sword Art — Fifth Stance!" he cried. His blade shimmered with condensed killing intent, his sword intent and slaughter will fused into a single, lethal arc.
"It cannot end like this — to fall at the hands of a half-step Legend-grade youth," the old man gasped, suffering backlash as his own bloodline was devoured. His body trembled; cultivation collapsed inwards.
Lin Feng's blade descended, inches from the old man's throat — when a new presence halted him.
Bang.
A venerable figure stepped into the clearing, cane in hand. His aura was so vast it made the ground hum. Lin Feng froze, adrenaline coiling.
"Who are you?" Lin Feng demanded, though his voice shook now with a hint of respect.
"You don't recognize me?" the old man said, and as he stepped forward a hush fell over every heart in the camp.
Zhao Yun's voice stuttered with fear. "That is… he is—"
The invaders and survivors alike trembled. Faces went pale. Rumors and names tumbled through the air.
"He's the Ancestor of the Blood Sect," someone whispered.
"What?!" Lin Feng's mind raced, but his resolve didn't waver. He squared his shoulders. "I don't care who you are. Today I must kill him."
Even the old man — hurt and enraged — was taken aback. He met Lin Feng's gaze with a new, grudging respect.
The Ancestor smiled, a slow, unreadable curl. "I like you, young man," he said softly. "But do you truly think you can win with me here?"
Lin Feng's laugh rang out, fierce and bright. "We'll see."