He clutched his twisted wrist, letting out a shrill scream: “Who?!” That voice brimmed with terror and fury, like a wounded beast roaring in rage.
Hu Mazi jerked his head up and saw a familiar figure standing at the alley’s entrance, his white shirt billowing in the gentle breeze, like an unyielding banner.
A faint black and white flame swirled around him, the flames resembling mysterious runes that emanated an ancient and powerful aura. It was Chen Ping, who had hurried over from the Yuan De Realm!
“Chen Ping? How did you get here?”
Hu Mazi was both shocked and overjoyed, his eyes instantly reddening.
He had thought himself doomed this time. In this desperate situation, he had seemed to glimpse the grim visage of the death god, every cell in his body trembling in despair.
Yet Chen Ping’s sudden appearance was like a dawn light piercing the darkness, bringing him hope of survival.
Chen Ping did not answer at first. His gaze swept coldly over the three men surrounding Hu Mazi.
His eyes were like shards of ice, radiating a bone-chilling cold that made the trio shudder involuntarily.
Seeing this, the white-robed cultivator gripped his long sword and thrust it towards Chen Ping, his face twisted in a ferocious grimace as he bellowed: “Another meddler! Kill him too!”
The long sword gleamed with frosty light, lunging like a venomous snake straight at Chen Ping’s face.
But as the sword reached halfway, Chen Ping extended two fingers and clamped it firmly.
Chen Ping’s fingers were as unyielding as steel. No matter how hard the white-robed cultivator strained, the sword could not advance a fraction further.
The corner of Chen Ping’s mouth curved slightly, revealing a disdainful smile: “Is that all you’ve got, and you dare draw a blade before me?”
With that, he exerted a slight pressure with his fingers. With a “crack”, the long sword snapped in two instantly.
The broken sword traced an arc in the air before clattering to the ground with a crisp sound.
Next, a ball of supreme fire surged from his palm, the flames blazing like a burning sun and radiating scorching brilliance.
He lightly pressed it against the white-robed cultivator’s chest. The man did not even have time to scream before his body was engulfed in the supreme fire.
The flames devoured his form in an instant, charring him beyond recognition. His body writhed and thrashed in the blaze, like an insect trapped in a sea of fire.
Soon, he reduced to a pile of ashes, leaving only a pungent stench of burnt flesh in the air.
Scarface and his subordinate were terrified out of their wits. Their faces drained to a ghostly pallor, their legs quaking uncontrollably, as if they might collapse at any moment.
They turned to flee, their steps frantic and hurried, as though countless demons were pursuing them from behind.
But Chen Ping casually flung out two chains of flame. The chains slithered like agile fire serpents, instantly binding their limbs.
They struggled desperately, yet could not break free from the chains’ grip, reduced to uttering hopeless cries.
“Want to run? Did you ask me first?”
Chen Ping stepped forward and planted a foot on Scarface’s back.
His strength bore down like a mountain’s weight, leaving Scarface gasping for breath.
Scarface’s face flushed crimson, his eyes brimming with fear and agony.
“Tell me, what exactly are the temple and the Evil Path Hall plotting in their collusion?”
Chen Ping’s voice was icy and stern, like a sharp blade piercing straight to Scarface’s heart.
Scarface, crushed breathless and having witnessed Chen Ping’s horrifying power, dared not conceal anything.
His body trembled nonstop, tears welling in his eyes. He cried out hastily: “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! The temple helps us gather souls, and we supply them with spirit stones in return! That’s all I truly know!”
His voice cracked with sobs, laden with terror and helplessness.
Chen Ping’s gaze hardened. The supreme fire in his palm flared wildly, the flames surging like a tidal wave that instantly reduced Scarface and his subordinate to flying ashes.
The air filled with a acrid odour, the scent of death.
