Continuous streams of fuel trucks entered and exited at the entrance.
After months of effort, this Demon Nest had officially become one of Great Chu's resource sites.
At the same time.
The team captain of Yong'an City's police, [Ripping Cloud Claw·Liu Jinglong], was leading a raid to eliminate the remnants of the Black Water Company who had fled into the Demon Nest.
"Captain Liu, let's eat first."
Since the Demon Nest was too large to be searched completely in a short time, Liu Jinglong thought for a moment, then called everyone to sit down and make camp.
The noodles boiled vigorously in the pot, and once cooked, the military guide took the small pot off the fire and handed a bowl to him.
"Captain Liu, the conditions in the Demon Nest are harsh, have something to eat first."
Liu Jinglong took it with a smile and said:
"This doesn't count as hardship; having noodles is good enough."
The slippery noodles slid down his throat, not fully swallowed yet.
He sensed a strange presence ahead and looked up.
Liu Jinglong could see someone approaching them slowly.
A black sword sheath hung at his waist, and the instant the sword was drawn from it, the air seemed to suddenly freeze, still and windless within a hundred-mile radius.
Seeing the person's face clearly, Liu Jinglong wore a bitter smile.
"Unfortunate timing... why would Li Xiao come here..."
The others were confused, quickly preparing for a defensive formation.
If it were a survivor from Black Water, he alone would not pose a threat.
"Captain Liu, what's..."
The accompanying Martial Arts Family member leading the military guide was puzzled by Liu Jinglong's defeated expression.
Liu Jinglong bowed his head in silence, knowing that this man was [Blood-Drinking Demon Sword·Li Xiao], a Grandmaster of the Demon Path with a bounty of eight hundred million.
No need to run, just wait for death.
"Didn't Li Xiao leave Yong'an seven years ago? How dare he return..."
He forced himself to calm down, preparing to send the final information to the police department.
[Li...]
His words were cut off as Liu Jinglong's pupils contracted sharply.
His Qi Blood surged wildly within him, while his limbs and bones felt as cold as an ice cave.
Like him, everyone was enveloped by this deadly killing intent.
Shhhh—
A black arc of light rose from the horizon with a soft sound, reminiscent of tearing silk.
Hundreds of meters away, Li Xiao drew his sword and swung it horizontally, enveloping them in immense demonic resentment, and the blood-drinking Sword Qi rippled out like waves.
In an instant, the stainless steel bowl in Liu Jinglong's hand turned to fine dust, and the boiling noodle soup froze mid-air.
The campfire twisted into a strange purple-black hue, while a nearby parked fuel truck's steel shell cracked inch by inch.
Thin blood lines as fine as hair simultaneously appeared on everyone's throats.
Without even managing a scream, their bodies collapsed backward simultaneously.
Where the Sword Qi's aftermath swept past, both people and objects had cuts as smooth as mirrors.
Whoosh—
The demon sword returned to its sheath, restoring silence to the Demon Nest.
Meanwhile, the pooling blood from the people on the ground formed a stream, reflecting a bloody moon in the sky.
It wasn't real moonlight, but the scarlet murderous light left by the Sword Qi, gradually drawing out the blood of all living things within a hundred meters.
In the distance, the Black Water men watched the silhouetted figure holding a sword with trepidation.
Though they shared the Demon Path, this person's ruthlessness instilled fear among them.
[Soul Refining, you can make your move now. How long do you need?]
Voices came from the phone.
[Boss, give me half an hour, wait for me at the node.]
[Alright, I'll go in first and wait for you.]
Hanging up the phone, the bald man smiled sinisterly at the nearby Meng Chuan.
"Kid, save picking up girls for your next life..."
...
It was already ten at night, with few pedestrians on the streets, all having gone home to rest.
Meng Chuan ordered a ride-hailing car and stood at the intersection with Zheng Zhenzhen waiting.
"You should come to Yanhua, it's not far from Yong'an City, and we can practice martial arts together."
At the crossroad, Zheng Zhenzhen half-crouched in front of Meng Chuan, pouting.
Meng Chuan shook his head, ignoring Zheng Zhenzhen's persuasion, stepping back a few steps to distance himself in the open street.
He felt a bit irritated, inexplicably wanting to get angry.
"Not good."
A flash of insight crossed Meng Chuan's mind, and his body moved instinctively, flashing ten meters away instantly.
Bang—!
A loud noise reached him as he glanced back to see his previous spot shattered.
The paving tiles buckled and cracked like a spider web from the point of impact.
At the center, a bald man wielding an ink-colored jade pestle quietly stepped out.
"Pretty alert, huh..."
On the side, Zheng Zhenzhen was about to step forward to help, but Meng Chuan loudly warned:
"Don't come, call the police."
He kept it concise; the man's Qi Blood was extraordinarily thick, and Zheng Zhenzhen, a mere seven-gate Martial Artist, could not withstand even one move from him.
Moreover, the man wielded a deadly weapon, the "hand pestle" emphasized by Lu Zhuxiao.
Regular people would crumble upon touching it, and without any hard skills for protection, Zhenzhen should best not complicate matters by getting involved.
Meng Chuan's fists hung by his sides, a layer of darkness subtly covering his skin, while his expression remained calm.
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Many of us have fallen at your hands, I just want to avenge my brothers, is that a good enough reason?"
Soul Refining replied with a sinister smile.
"Scum from the Demon Summoning Hall, huh."
Whish—
In the blink of Meng Chuan's eye, the ink-colored jade pestle nearly drilled into the top of his skull.
He instantly reversed his fist to block, narrowly stopping the strike.
The tremendous impact forced Meng Chuan to stagger back two steps, his fist center painfully bruised.
"Nine Passes... No, it should be called the Fourth Elevation."
The Soul Refining strike having failed, he swiftly swung with full force, shrouded in a phantom-like body technique, sweeping heavily towards Meng Chuan.
With piercing eyes, Meng Chuan swiftly twisted his steps, his elbow raised to protect his face, his body swaying back and forth to avoid the attack, guided by the sound of the pestle slicing through the wind.
Like dancing on a blade's edge, an astonished Zheng Zhenzhen watched from afar, unable to tear her eyes away.
She hung up the phone, crouched low, and leaped to strike.
Soul Refining had long anticipated the young tigress's ambush from behind, a shrewd smile creeping upon his lips.
He swung his arm and twisted his body, the jade pestle carving an arc like a home run sweep.
Midway through, Zheng Zhenzhen abruptly changed direction and swiftly bent her waist, barely dodging aside.
The forceful wind ripped her waist garment, leaving a deep, bleeding cut on her skin.
A cry of pain echoed, Zheng Zhenzhen biting back emotions she couldn't suppress.
Meng Chuan stepped forward with a shaking step, swinging his arm to unleash the Liver-Wood Silk Binding Fist, enveloping the bald head again.
Clutching her side wound like a tigress leaping afar, Zheng Zhenzhen paused her advance.
Her expression complex, her fair chin tense with each breath.
Only now did she understand the type of opponent Meng Chuan was facing.
Bam! Clang! Dong!
The Heart Fire and Thunder Fire, responding to Meng Chuan's arm swing, resounded in harmony with the pestle under the night sky.
A distance away, the two danced in twisting steps, their feet shattering the stone tiles, rocks shooting erratically around.
Suddenly!
The jade pestle struck the left chest!
Meng Chuan rapidly retreated, leaving a dent on his protective suit, and even the outer membrane of his armor was cracked, causing his breathing to become labored.
Away from the scene, Zheng Zhenzhen's heart tightened again, unexpected that the usually dominant Meng Chuan would be at a disadvantage.
Forgetting the pain in her waist, she bent down to seek another chance.
Meng Chuan frowned slightly, the bald man's pestle work was exceptionally refined, his skill far beyond ordinary imagination.
Striking, sweeping, slashing - perfectly unified, in their brief clash, the dragon bones had already collided with that pestle dozens of times.
Just as Meng Chuan thought he had grasped the opponent's tactics, Soul Refining suddenly struck diagonally, solidly hitting his chest.
Fortunately, Meng Chuan's mastery of hard skills was profound; coupled with the armor's support, he managed to withstand it.
"This bald guy is no simple role even in the Demon Summoning Hall..."
The opponent's first strike, deceptively bizarre.
If not for recent improvements in dragon-sit meditation, he'd have faltered on the first attempt.
"Meng Chuan, watch out for his pestle head."
Zhenzhen shouted a warning.
Their battle felt like a storm sweeping through, leaving her no chance to intervene.
Meng Chuan had no time to heed; he immediately advanced with a stepping right foot, punching out with dragon bone gauntlet-wrapped fists to clear obstacles, fiercely aiming at Soul Refining's face.
Bang—!
Pestle and gauntlet clashed, emitting a mournful quiver.
Though the fist's range was short, it was agile.
One hand entangled with the pestle, the other carrying Kidney Water, the Overlapping Waves Shattering Rock Fist surged, leaving tidal markings on the adversary.
Soul Refining's pestle techniques were insidious and malevolent; the shaft slapping into the fist surface, two fingers initiated a subtle motion, the pestle head dodging Meng Chuan's encroaching Water Element Fist.
Meng Chuan, undaunted, was pleased; indeed, real combat was the best teacher, slowly uncovering the enemy's strategy amidst this edge dance.
Bang—!
The pitch-black fist collided with the ink jade pestle again, the battle deadlocked fiercely.
Soul Refining cursed inwardly, finding this kid quite formidable.
His assumptions were wrong: most martial families in the city had been drawn to the Demon Nest by the big brother's allure.
Yet even with some regular martial artists armed with guns, with this kid, he still wouldn't prevail.
Distraction in battle was a cardinal sin; Soul Refining and Meng Chuan's eyes met, refocusing their resolve.
"Quick victory..."
The villain was perilous, and Meng Chuan decided to make a risky move!
He brought his arm crosswise, feigning a gap for Soul Refining to exploit.
Actually, he twisted his body, swept his leg, infusing the momentum of thunder fire through his instep, sweeping it heavily toward the pestle's shaft.
Soul Refining anticipated an opportunity, only for thunder to burst beside him, forcing him to jump back hastily, while he angled the pestle's head to smash Meng Chuan's instep!
Caught off guard!
The recoil on his instep tingled through Soul Refining's tiger mouth, and the next moment, Meng Chuan surged forward, left fist wrapped in murderous intent racing toward Soul Refining's face.
Soul Refining was trapped, unable to dodge; recalling the pestle in time was impossible, leaving no doubt the heavy punch would shatter his skull!
True to his reputation for surviving through carnage, Soul Refining, a subordinate under a demonic grandmaster, saw the danger, abandoning the pestle, lowering to clutch Meng Chuan's right leg, ready to twist forcefully.
Far off, Zheng Zhenzhen seized the tangled opportunity to swoop in, but Soul Refining casually swatted her away, propelling her back faster.
Amidst the precarious battle, Soul Refining's fist skills weren't lacking; the small cauldron on his chest exuded dark light, billowing demonic qi engulfing his wrist.
Like a venomous dragon probing a cave, it cut through stray black mists, stabbing straight at Meng Chuan's leg tendon.
Despite his formidable bulk, the bald opponent hadn't anticipated practicing the insidious Snake Fist.
Still, a person from the Demon Path, none unexpected.
Meng Chuan ignored his right leg, protected by Rock Armor, allowing him to twist - what of it?
He seized the momentum, body gaining force to lean forward, about to suppress his foe, Soul Refining facing the shadow of danger above, immediately released the calf, rolling sideways to evade.
Meng Chuan, toe hooking, swiftly gathered a breath of Heart Fire Qi, kicking at the man's rear.
Regret crossed his mind; if he could hit the waist, victory would be certain.
Whizz—!
Soul Refining disregarded the burning pain and swelling, quickly lying prone, stretching his arm to retrieve the fallen pestle.
Meng Chuan wouldn't allow the chance, not waiting for the kick to retract, he swiftly delivered a lightning punch, wind blasting the pestle three meters into the air, embedding it into the distant greenery.
Soul Refining's heart sank, today was a defeat, not foreseeing this "little genius" to be such a formidable opponent.
No time remained, the option to escape fleeting, further entanglement...
"One way or another, death awaits."