Tianfeng City, Ling Clan.
Blood had pooled into a river.
The glaring sunlight shone on that vivid red river, casting a dizzying glow.
Of the five hundred warriors who’d sworn to defend the Ling Clan to the death, only a hundred or so remained.
Of course, the enemy had paid a far steeper price.
The battle raged on, with no one knowing how long this brutal fight would last.
Perhaps it would end when every Ling Clan member was dead.
Without strength, in a world ruled by martial might, survival was a fleeting hope.
Human life was so fragile, so easily shattered.
Like a leaf fluttering in the wind, torn apart with a single rip.
Phew—!
Ling Xiao let out a long breath.
He hadn’t found his grandfather Hong Qi or Ling Luo anywhere.
Were they dead?
Or hiding?
He didn’t know.
But not seeing their bodies kept total despair at bay.
If you looked closely, you’d notice that the families of those who’d sided with Second Master Ling were all gone.
Second Master Ling Wuhen, a man whose foresight far outstripped his strength, might’ve avoided a tragedy like Ling Xiaotian’s if he’d been clan leader.
After Ling Xiaotian rejected Fei Yun’s offer to surrender, Ling Wuhen sensed trouble brewing. With lightning speed, he hid everyone in his courtyard—those with little fighting ability—in an underground chamber.
At least for now, they were alive, spared from pointless death.
Fight on!
Fight until the last drop of blood runs dry!
Ling Xiao wasn’t holding back anymore. He knew if he didn’t go all out today, he’d be the next to die.
Senior Sister Yi Xue, get back!
With a loud shout.
Ling Xiao made a stunning move.
He gave up fleeing, choosing to draw the attacks of four martial masters with his own body.
He couldn’t watch Ling Yi Xue die.
Nor could he let these four masters free up to slaughter other Ling Clan members.
Of course, he wasn’t suicidal.
He had a lifeline to cling to.
What can you do?
Shi Long sneered at Ling Xiao, but his attack abruptly halted.
Li Yunsheng and the other two masters stopped too.
They weren’t fools. They knew Ling Xiao was full of tricks—Fei Mu’s death had shocked everyone.
They didn’t want to be the next Fei Mu.
Ling Xiao said nothing, just stared coldly at Shi Long and the others.
No hatred or fear in his eyes, only icy calm.
As if devoid of emotion.
He truly wanted to see through their bodies, to check if their hearts were black, so ruthless and cruel.
Fellow humans, yet willingly serving invaders, butchering their own kind.
This kid’s uncanny!
Even a master like Shi Long felt a chill from Ling Xiao’s frigid gaze.
Those eyes weren’t just cold—they were deep, like they held a boundless world, impossible to read.
What’s this? The mighty Shi Clan leader scared of a mere early sixth-tier martial artist like me?
Ling Xiao’s eyes filled with thick disdain and contempt.
Kid, if you’re so eager to die, this city lord will oblige! You three, go kill that woman!
Shi Long was furious. A seventh-tier martial master, humiliated by a wet-behind-the-ears junior—it was a disgrace.
He’d seen Ling Xiao’s “Terrifying Finger” already and figured it was his strongest move.
As long as he stayed cautious, he’d be fine.
With a grim sneer, he dismissed Fei Mu’s fate as a fluke. He refused to believe it could happen again.
A surge of potent true essence erupted from Shi Long, overwhelming and suffocating.
A martial master was a martial master—leagues above anyone below sixth-tier.
He wielded no weapon, nor did he deign to.
A single palm strike matched any blade’s power.
That fearsome true essence formed a tangible giant handprint, crashing down toward Ling Xiao’s head.
No flair, just raw, terrifying force.
Sheer power trumps all tricks.
When strength hits a certain level, skill struggles to bridge the gap.
Shatter!
Ling Xiao didn’t budge.
But behind him bloomed a cherry tree, its petals swirling like meteors.
They fused into a massive sword of cherry blossoms, thrusting straight at Shi Long’s giant handprint.
As if it knew the handprint’s weakest point, the sword struck true.
Crack!
A sharp snap rang out as the handprint shattered.
Shi Long’s massive palm trembled, a fingertip pierced, a drop of blood hitting the ground.
Ninja spirit? No! A martial soul—a complete one!
Shi Long was stunned. He clearly remembered that cherry tree belonged to Fei Mu—so how was it Ling Xiao’s martial soul now?
And this wasn’t Li Xinghui’s broken soul—this was a full-fledged martial soul.
He wasn’t the only one shocked.
Fei Yun, battling Ling Xiaotian, caught sight of Ling Xiao wielding Fei Mu’s ninja spirit. Distracted, he took a palm strike from Ling Xiaotian.
If Li Yunsheng hadn’t rushed to save him, Fei Yun might’ve fallen there.
You wretch, how do you have Fei Mu’s ninja spirit? Tell me, or I’ll kill you!
Fei Yun spat blood.
But the rage in his heart hurt more.
Ridiculous. Tell you or not, you’d kill me anyway.
Ling Xiao shot Fei Yun a scornful glance. Having used Fei Mu’s ninja spirit today, he’d abandoned hope of survival.
Even if he died, he’d take a couple down with him.
Since advancing to sixth-tier, his Mountain River Martial Soul had gained a new ability—Devour Battle Soul.
Battle souls included martial souls, ninja spirits, and any combat-ready spiritual essence.
Ling Xiao had planned to take Li Xinghui’s broken soul, but by a twist of fate, Fei Mu’s ninja spirit was his first catch.
When he wielded it, that ninja spirit became a martial soul.
A true fighting soul.
The Mountain River Martial Soul encompassed all things.
Ling Xiao was starting to grasp its meaning.
Shi Long, you and Li Yunsheng team up against the old Ling man. I’ll handle Ling Xiao!
Fei Yun couldn’t stomach Fei Mu’s ninja spirit in Ling Xiao’s hands. He’d kill him and use his head to honor the fallen Fei Mu.
Yes, Lord Envoy!
Honestly, Shi Long was uneasy facing Ling Xiao now.
The kid wasn’t strong, but his eerie tricks were endless, impossible to guard against. He wasn’t afraid of dying, but losing face or getting outplayed would ruin his reputation as city lord.
I don’t care how you got Fei Mu’s ninja spirit, but today, you die!
