In the blink of an eye, the roles of hunter and prey were reversed.
With Chen Feng's strength steadily increasing, the quality of the Eight Spider Lances had also been gradually evolving—so had the poison they carried.
This toxin, originating from the Man-Faced Demon Spider, was incredibly lethal. Without the Eight Spider Lances, even Chen Feng himself had no immediate antidote, let alone that purple-robed bishop.
In just a few breaths' time, the bishop's entire abdomen went numb. The poison was carried swiftly by his bloodstream, reaching every corner of his body. His face turned a deep red as he tried to resist using soul power, but it was largely ineffective.
His vision began to blur, the ground seemed to spin beneath him, and a wave of vertigo struck.
Thud—the bishop of Spirit Hall's branch temple collapsed.
"My lord!"
Just then, the other Spirit Hall soul masters—who had been trailing behind—finally arrived.
When they saw their bishop sprawled on the ground, everyone froze in shock. Two purple-robed bishops—both Soul Kings—had been defeated by a single Soul Ancestor!
Even more astonishing, neither of these bishops was newly advanced Soul Kings. One was a Level 59 power-type Soul King, the other a Level 56 defense-type Soul King.
One of the yellow-robed deacons squatted to check the bishop's breathing.
"He's alive, but barely. Get him back for treatment—now!"
With that, he directed the others to urgently carry the bishop away from Seven Star Mountain.
The other yellow-robed deacon surveyed the battlefield and commented grimly:
"One dead, one critically injured… That Seven Treasure Glazed Tile brat can't be in good shape either. I saw him take a hit from our lord's soul skill—he's surely fleeing by now, too injured to pursue us."
"Still, let's proceed with caution. The two of us will take point at the front and rear."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
The two deacons—both Soul Elders—took up positions at the front and back of the group, maintaining proper distance in case of an ambush.
They were now the strongest remaining in the group and had to shoulder the responsibility of defense.
Meanwhile, the unconscious purple-robed bishop's face was turning pitch black. The poison was spreading rapidly; death loomed.
And just then, a figure silently approached.
"Who's there?!"
The rear deacon heard the faintest of sounds and immediately activated his soul rings, spinning around with a shout.
But the forest was silent. Only the sound of heavy breathing from his companions filled the air.
The deacon swallowed nervously. Seeing nothing, he turned back around, heart pounding.
But the instant he turned… he felt a chill on his neck.
He raised a hand—and found it covered in blood.
Then his throat seemed to split open cleanly, as if sliced by a razor. A slanted gash appeared, and his head slowly toppled from his shoulders.
Thud.
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.
Every Spirit Hall soul master turned at once, drenched in cold sweat.
With a panicked cry, they abandoned the wounded bishop, stretcher and all, and scattered in terror…
In an instant, the mountain returned to its earlier stillness.
Chen Feng emerged from the darkness, bloodstained and ragged, his clothing torn and his body streaked with filth. The Eight Spider Lances, now incomplete, looked even more menacing.
The paralyzed bishop could only lie on the ground, helplessly watching as Chen Feng raised the Seven Kill Sword and sliced off his right leg, extracting the soul bone within.
"Pfft!"
With one final stroke, the life of the once-mighty defensive Soul King came to an end.
Immediately after, five afterimages of Chen Feng shimmered into view and vanished into the forest.
An hour later.
At a small river near the edge of Seven Star Mountain, Chen Feng washed away the blood and grime, changing into fresh clothes.
Thanks to his celestial herb-enhanced body, his wounds had already begun to scab. Still, the strike from a Soul King had left him with internal injuries, and his aura remained unstable.
Footsteps approached.
Yu Tianlong appeared—his large frame spattered with blood. In his hand, he carried four severed heads, all twisted off from enemy corpses.
"You didn't leave?" Chen Feng asked, surprised.
Yu Tianlong shook his head.
"Of course not. I'm your teammate—how could I abandon you when danger strikes?"
He tossed the heads onto the ground.
"I followed that group of soul masters from a distance. Don't worry, not a single one got away."
Chen Feng smiled. This teammate was well worth recruiting. Their methods and principles matched perfectly.
Yu Tianlong reminded him:
"But we'll need to be careful now. Spirit Hall won't let this go. They sent such a large force, and now they're all wiped out. They'll come after us."
Chen Feng shrugged nonchalantly.
"They were already our enemies. Things were bound to escalate eventually. From here on, we'll just have to be more cautious."
After washing up, the two resumed their journey toward the Po Clan.
The next day, in a remote city of the Star Luo Empire, they finally found the location of the now-declining Po Clan.
Tucked in a corner of the city, it was a walled courtyard of grey bricks with tightly shut gates—no plaque, no signs, and completely unremarkable.
If Chen Feng hadn't known the exact coordinates—and if not for the faint medicinal aroma wafting from inside—he might've thought he was at the wrong place.
Knock knock knock—
Chen Feng gently rapped on the door.
A narrow gap opened. A young man peeked out.
"Here for medicine? Go to Jishi Hall. This is the back entrance."
He began to close the door.
Chen Feng quickly placed a hand on it and spoke politely:
"Please wait. I'm not here for medicine. I've come specifically to pay my respects to Elder Yang Wudi of the Po Clan."
The young man's eyes flashed with suspicion.
"Never heard of the Po Clan. You've got the wrong place."
Chen Feng smiled and said calmly:
"There's no need for alarm. Please just tell Elder Yang Wudi… that someone bearing the Odorous Immortal Treasure has come to visit."
The young man frowned in thought. Then he said, "Wait here."
Bang! The door slammed shut again.
Yu Tianlong leaned in, curious.
"Odorous Immortal Treasure? What's that?"
Chen Feng explained:
"It's the name of a flower—Youxiang Qiluo Immortal Product. It neutralizes all known toxins."
Yu Tianlong raised his brows.
"There's a plant that's amazing?"
Chen Feng nodded confidently.
"Of course. Just wait—you'll see. It won't be long before Yang Wudi himself comes out to greet us."
After the Haotian Sect went into hiding, the Po Clan suffered the worst retaliation from Spirit Hall among all four former subordinate clans. Because of that, Yang Wudi held the deepest grudge—he had long viewed the Haotian Sect as an enemy.
Back then, Tang San won over Yang Wudi not just with his talent, but also by presenting the Youxiang Qiluo Immortal Herb. That was what finally melted the old man's hatred.
Chen Feng already knew the solution. He was simply retracing Tang San's steps—but with a more modest goal: allying, not submission.
With that, Yang Wudi had no reason to refuse.