"Actually... I am a member of Spirit Hall!"
Facing Fan Hong's questioning, Qian Jue slowly opened his mouth.
"Spirit Hall? Spirit Hall has already discovered us?!" Fan Hong instantly grew anxious, standing up abruptly and stepping toward Qian Jue. Taking the chance, Qian Jue turned his head slightly, his burning gaze falling on Dai Mubai.
"That's right. Spirit Hall has long discovered you. The two of us came tonight precisely to monitor your movements. Soon, the main force will arrive. Do you know how many people we brought?"
"How many came? Who's leading them? Is it Lu Ji?" Fan Hong suddenly grabbed the front of Qian Jue's robes and yanked him up, his eyes burning with urgency.
Qian Jue raised his hand to grab Fan Hong's wrist, as if trying to make it easier to breathe.
"It's not Lu Ji. It's someone stronger than him—your granddaddy!"
With a roar, Qian Jue flicked his wrist, and a flash of cold light shot straight toward Fan Hong's left eye. At the same time, his Wolf Spirit—already released and concealed to the side—lunged upward and sank its fangs toward Fan Hong's throat.
This was the first time since coming into this world that Qian Jue had unleashed his strength against a Spirit Master without holding back.
Fan Hong was unprepared—or more accurately, not too wary. Qian Jue and Dai Mubai looked far too young. Fan Huan had said that he had discovered this killer boy was a Spirit Grandmaster. To reach Spirit Grandmaster at such a young age was indeed extraordinary talent. But no matter how talented, that was the limit. He himself was already at the 48th rank—Spirit Ancestor realm. He never once believed Qian Jue or Dai Mubai could threaten him.
That arrogance was his downfall.
Though his instincts as a Spirit Ancestor allowed him to twist his head aside, dodging the hidden arrow aimed at his left eye, he could not avoid the sudden ambush of the Wolf Spirit.
The Wolf Spirit's sharp fangs pierced into his throat, but almost immediately met resistance—Fan Hong's protective soul power. Fan Hong instantly reacted, stepping back sharply while striking a palm at his own throat. His hand smashed into the Wolf Spirit, knocking it away. Still, the Wolf Spirit's teeth had already torn several wounds into his neck. Blood spurted out in streams.
Luckily for Fan Hong, he had released his martial spirit earlier, intending to discipline the two boys. Otherwise, if the Wolf Spirit had bitten even a little deeper, he might have lost his life outright.
By this moment, Dai Mubai had also entered his martial spirit possession state, erupting with power. That single look from Qian Jue earlier had told him everything. Though he didn't know how their meager strength, over twenty levels below, could contend against Fan Hong and Gu Lan, since Qian Jue was determined to gamble, he wouldn't hesitate.
Either way, death awaited them.
Yet Dai Mubai didn't rush at Fan Hong. Instead, he kicked off the ground and darted toward Fan Huan on the side. If he could seize Fan Huan as a hostage, perhaps they might find a sliver of life. Even if he failed, forcing Fan Hong to split his attention would at least give Qian Jue more opportunities.
"Father!"
Fan Huan had yet to realize the danger rushing toward him. He only saw Fan Hong suddenly attacked by Qian Jue, blood spraying from his throat. Panicked, he cried out, rushing forward to check Fan Hong's condition.
Meanwhile, after the Wolf Spirit's ambush landed, Qian Jue extended his right hand. The Kindred Bow instantly condensed into form. As he landed, he twisted and swung the bow like a blade, hacking it down toward Fan Hong.
Qian Jue did not choose to fire a light arrow. The gap in soul power between him and Fan Hong was simply too vast. Such an ordinary attack might not even pierce Fan Hong's protective soul power. Besides, at such close range, a direct strike with the bow's razor edge was far more effective. He knew he could not allow Fan Hong a chance to recover. He had to seize this ambush and deal decisive damage. Otherwise, they would have no chance at all.
"Ahhh—!!"
Fan Hong roared as he stumbled back, his face flushed red with blood. His left hand pressed hard against his neck, trying to ease the unbearable pain radiating from the wounds.
What was this?! Why does it hurt so much?!
Was his throat torn open?!
The searing agony drove away the calm he usually maintained in battle. His mind was filled with nothing but these frantic questions.
It wasn't until he saw Qian Jue and Dai Mubai surging forward together that his combat instincts returned. He raised his free right hand, swatting away the Kindred Bow that hacked toward him. Then, just as he braced himself to counter Dai Mubai, he realized—the boy wasn't charging at him, but rushing straight past him toward Fan Huan. For a split second, he froze. Then realization struck.
"Huan'er!!"
Fan Hong bellowed, his fourth spirit ring flaring to life in an instant.
Seeing this, Qian Jue immediately acted. The Kindred Bow shone with an emerald glow as he swung again, while the Wolf Spirit—already recovered somewhat—pounced once more.
But this still couldn't stop Fan Hong's fourth spirit skill. With no motion at all, a phantom wolf-shadow split off from his body and darted at Dai Mubai. The charging Dai Mubai, only a step away from Fan Huan, was slammed aside, sent flying violently. Midair, he coughed blood before crashing to the ground, unmoving.
Qian Jue's attacks grew fiercer, his Kindred Bow wielded like a reaper's scythe. The techniques he had honed himself poured out without restraint. Yet no matter how sharp, they were not true spirit skills. His flurry forced Fan Hong back at first—especially as one hand remained pressed to his bleeding throat.
But decades of seasoned combat experience allowed Fan Hong to gradually stabilize.
And as time passed, he adapted to the Wolf Spirit's interference. The pain, though intense, no longer clouded his mind. His clarity returned.
But that clarity only deepened his shock.
What kind of monster was this boy?!
The martial spirit before him seemed like an invisible spirit beast—striking from stealth. Worse, when it landed a hit, the pain was magnified severalfold. That agony was so real he'd thought his throat ripped open.
Thankfully, his martial spirit had been released in time, his possession form preventing deeper damage. He had also reacted quickly, swatting the beast away before it destroyed vital arteries or his windpipe. Though bleeding heavily, the wounds weren't fatal.
That much he could accept. A strange martial spirit with stealth and pain-inducing traits—fine. His earlier suffering, he reasoned, was simply due to being caught off guard.
What truly shook him was that this boy's physical attributes did not resemble a Spirit Grandmaster at all. His strength and agility weren't much weaker than Fan Hong's own. Worse, his body's reactions felt dulled, as though weighed down, preventing him from fighting at his best.
And then there was that skill—one that drained soul power. Each time the strange weapon in Qian Jue's hands shone with emerald light, the next strike shaved away a portion of his soul power. Not much at once, but over many exchanges, it added up dangerously.
What unsettled him further was that he had no way to counter it. Even when he blocked the weapon, his soul power was consumed. Dodging didn't help either—the glow remained until it struck him, guaranteeing eventual depletion. On top of that, the invisible Wolf Spirit was constantly harassing from the side, keeping him on edge. He couldn't even disengage properly.
And now, after trading blows for some time, half his soul power was already gone.
Yet the boy opposite him—despite taking his attacks, despite being struck by a spirit skill—was still attacking wildly, as if he hadn't burned through a shred of soul power.
What in the world was this monster?!