Chapter 15: The Beast Warrior

“So your name is Han Feng, right? You’re the one who took out Bari and Barlow?” Wang Ye fixed his gaze on Han Feng. “You’ve certainly brought us quite a bit of trouble.”

“Are we going to fight or not?” Han Feng said impatiently.

“If I can save myself the trouble, of course I will. We’re all civilized men here—there’s no point in senseless fighting and killing,” Wang Ye replied coolly, putting on a façade of righteousness. “I wonder, who sent you?”

“No one sent me. I’m just a man who can’t stand injustice—charging through the land with fiery resolve,” Han Feng replied, seeing the confusion on Wang Ye’s face and realizing the man had never read Water Margin. He straightened up and added, “You can think of me as a hero who draws his sword to help those in need.”

That, at least, was a serious answer.

“How about we make a deal?” Wang Ye, seeing that Han Feng wasn’t acting under orders, immediately proposed, “I’ll give you a million star coins if you leave this place. How about it?”

“Oh, so you want to bribe me, buy me off?” Han Feng scoffed, spreading his hands in mockery. “But compared to money, I prefer beautiful women.”

“With money, what kind of beauty couldn’t you have?” Wang Ye’s patience was impressive. He continued to coax.

Han Feng shook his head.

“What, have you taken a fancy to that girl?” Wang Ye found it amusing, glancing toward the plane. “Indeed, Tianyi’s beauty is rare, and hot-blooded young men are easily captivated by her. How about this: we’ll take her with us for now. Once she’s served her purpose, she’ll be of no further use to us. I’ll personally hand her over to you, and you can do whatever you please with her. And I’ll still give you the one million star coins.”

To Wang Ye, Han Feng was just a bystander—there was no real conflict of interest, nor any deep ties to Ye Tianyi. He was certain Han Feng wouldn’t refuse this offer.

But Wang Ye had no idea that money and women meant nothing to Han Feng. What he wanted were the card points and skill rewards for completing his mission.

“There’s an old saying—villains die from talking too much. If you want to fight, fight! You’re really full of nonsense,” Han Feng said, digging at his ear. “I’m hungry already; let’s finish this so I can go home for dinner.”

“So, negotiations have failed?” Wang Ye’s face turned cold.

“Negotiate with your mother!” Han Feng grabbed his greatsword without another word and charged.

Seeing this, Old Zhang quickly retreated. Plants that were both fireproof and heat-resistant were rare, and he only had a few lava swordthorn seeds left. Worse, Han Feng had already forced him to use them all up in their earlier battle.

Han Feng’s terrifying black flames completely countered his abilities, so now Old Zhang could only play a minor supporting role, releasing ordinary vines that might cause Han Feng some small inconveniences at best.

Wang Ye raised his twin scythes and leaped into the air, the blue energy swirling around them radiating danger.

Veins of blue blood energy coiled around the twin blades, making their edges even sharper and their strikes even more powerful.

“Earthsplit Cross Rupture!”

Blood energy surged around Wang Ye’s scythes, the blue glow intensifying. Crossing his arms, he brought both blades down in a mighty arc!

“Demon King’s Flame Sword: Dragon Soars!”

Han Feng fused two card skills together. Gripping his sword in both hands, he swung the silver blade wrapped in roaring black flames upward, the strike slicing through the air like a black dragon, soaring toward the heavens.

A deafening crash.

The black dragon collided with Wang Ye’s Earthsplit Cross Rupture.

Blue blood energy met the pitch-black flames.

The cross-shaped wave of blue force blasted a cross-shaped fissure into the ground. The black dragon ripped through the center of the cross, shooting skyward.

Wang Ye threw his head back as the black sword energy grazed his neck.

His legs lashed out at Han Feng’s chest like lightning. Han Feng met the kicks with his left arm while holding the sword in his right.

He blocked three times, but with a thud, Wang Ye’s kick landed squarely on Han Feng’s chest.

Han Feng crashed to the ground at an angle, blood surging in his veins.

Seizing the moment, Wang Ye landed, pushed off the ground, and followed up, both scythes slashing straight for Han Feng’s chest.

Just as Han Feng was rising, thick vines burst from the earth, frantically entangling his legs. Old Zhang had timed it perfectly, successfully restricting Han Feng’s movement.

Black flames erupted, instantly reducing the vines to ash.

But the half-second delay cost Han Feng his chance to dodge.

The blue scythes were nearly upon him!

“Tornado Slash!”

Han Feng spun, wind gathering at his feet. The razor-sharp blade sliced through his back, blood flowing freely.

The black flame sword swept out like a furious tornado, swinging at Wang Ye’s back.

Wang Ye, passing by, twisted around, blocking with his twin scythes, leaving his chest exposed.

“Demon King’s Flame Fist: Inferno Purgatory!”

Black flames wrapped around Han Feng’s fist, his spiritual energy making the flames all the more solid. In a flash, he landed twenty-one punches, each one striking true.

The unexpected onslaught sent Wang Ye flying, the scorching energy shattering his protective aura. His shirt was incinerated, his chest charred black.

“Demon King’s Flame Sword: Nine-Headed Dragon Flash!”

Han Feng unleashed nine basic sword techniques—Vertical Cleave, Diagonal Slash Right, Diagonal Slash Left, Horizontal Left, Horizontal Right, Left Rising Cut, Right Rising Cut, Updraft, and Thrust—at blinding speed, sending nine streaks of black sword energy locking onto Wang Ye, still airborne.

With nowhere to brace himself, Wang Ye could only watch as the nine streaks closed in, no escape possible.

He mustered all his blood energy for protection, the blue scythes held before him, but he could not block all the black sword energy.

His scythes only stopped three strikes—Vertical Cleave, Updraft, and Thrust. The other six slashed across his body.

The scorching black flames made every strike deadlier. His bloodline energy shattered under the sharp blows; his legs were severed at the knees, the blue scythes that were once his arms broke apart, and two cross-shaped sword wounds cut deep into his chest, exposing bone.

The flames scorched his flesh, but also cauterized his wounds, stanching the blood. Otherwise, with such injuries, he would have bled out even if he survived the initial assault.

Wang Ye collapsed, gasping, blood bubbling in his throat, his body wracked with pain.

With all four limbs destroyed and gravely wounded, Wang Ye was utterly helpless.

Han Feng turned his gaze on Old Zhang, who was not far off, and lunged without hesitation.

Seeing Wang Ye so thoroughly defeated, Old Zhang wasted no time. He turned and fled.

Brambles and thorns sprang up in his wake as he fled in desperation.

Han Feng pursued relentlessly, cutting through the thicket. Flames blazed across his body; any thorn he touched was instantly reduced to ash.

Like a bolt of black lightning, Han Feng closed in behind Old Zhang, raising his sword high, black flames shooting to the sky, ready to cut him down in one stroke.

“No, don’t!” a woman’s scream pierced the sky.

Han Feng’s blade halted just above Old Zhang’s head.