"Rumble!"
As Hun Changqing's words fell, the entire earth began to tremble violently. The ground cracked and shattered inch by inch, and a huge rumble resounded, like a series of thunderclaps, continuous and endless.
Suddenly, countless huge, pitch-black tree trunks emerged from the cracked ground. The trunks shot into the sky, wildly dancing and twisting, wantonly destroying everything within a radius of dozens of miles, like demons of a chaotic world, so ferocious, terrifying, and evil!
The pitch-black, abyss-like trunks emitted an extremely dense, terrifying death aura, completely corroding and destroying all life in their path.
"Ah..."
"No..."
"We were forced here by Fan Lao! It has nothing to do with me!"
"I'm just watching the show!"
...
In an instant, the screams and wails of the entire battlefield began to echo through the sky after these black trees emerged, endless and incessant, the wails revealing boundless despair and fear.
At this moment, centered on the ruins of the auction house where Hun Changqing was located, a hellish landscape had formed within a radius of dozens of miles. Blood sprayed constantly, and severed limbs were torn apart and sent flying into the air by the black wood.
Many more were devoured by the terrifying death aura, their vitality extinguished, turning them into withered, skeletal black corpses.
The corpses were the same color as the black wood, as hard as stone, and their deaths were extremely distorted, bizarre, and disgusting!
The air was filled with the stench of corpses and blood, creating a nauseating odor that would make anyone vomit.
The black death aura and the grayish-white yin energy intertwined and spread throughout the battlefield. Any ordinary person who stepped into this place would instantly turn into a horribly grotesque skeleton. At this moment, even if one said this was the abyss of hell, the netherworld, no one would doubt it.
In the heart of the dark sea of trees, a blood-red shadow flashed and darted swiftly, while the black trees behind him pursued him at a leisurely pace, as if toying with him.
Fan Lao watched as the black trees, like hunters, treated him as prey, slowing their pace just as he was about to be caught, seemingly enjoying the thrill of the hunt.
He listened to the heart-wrenching screams of the Blood Sect disciples that echoed throughout the entire sea of trees.
Fan Lao's heart burned with rage. He hated! He despaired! He also felt sorrow for himself.
He had lived a life of reckless abandon, lawless and ruthless killing, a top figure in the Black Corner Region, yet now his son had been utterly destroyed. And
here he was, in this dense, endless sea of trees, a place that instilled utter despair, being toyed with like a dog by these black trees—how tragic!
He couldn't understand why everything had changed so drastically in just a few hours, when everything was fine that morning.
Despite his utter despair, Fan Lao didn't give up. Fighting to the death offered a sliver of hope; giving up meant losing everything.
However, these black trees wanted to see Fan Lao desperately try to escape, to witness his struggle ultimately thwarted by the fate predetermined by Hun Changqing, and the resulting dramatic expression
on his face. Hun Changqing stood atop a massive black tree, slowly following the blood-red shadow frantically fleeing through the black sea of trees. He watched the wretched, greasy maggot with a mocking grin, his teeth gleaming white. "Hehehe..."
...
"Bang!"
After an unknown amount of time, Fan Lao's fighting spirit was finally drained, and he collapsed to the ground like a tattered sack. His body was mangled beyond recognition; his shoulders, legs, abdomen, and chest were riddled with bloody holes of varying sizes, as if something had pierced through him. His
once massive and ferocious body, resembling a small mountain, was now withered and emaciated, like a dried-up corpse. His eyes were vacant, and if it weren't for a faint breath escaping from his slightly parted, bloodless, and completely cracked lips, no one would believe he was still alive.
During their escape, Hei Mu would occasionally accelerate, piercing Fan Lao's body, but aiming for non-lethal spots, preventing him from dying so easily. The deathly aura devoured his life force, finally transforming him from the ugly, greasy creature that Hun Changqing despised into a withered, maggot-like creature.
"Tap...tap..."
Slow footsteps echoed in Fan Lao's ears as he lay dying. Forcing his unfocused pupils to concentrate, his blurred vision gradually cleared, and he finally recognized the person before him—the very murderer who had killed his son.
"Cough...woo..."
Fan Lao seemed to want to say something, but no matter how hard he tried, the words that reached his lips turned into sobs. His withered, pale face, devoid of color, with only skin clinging tightly to bone, was filled with even more despair.
Hun Changqing slowly walked to Fan Lao, bent down, grabbed his lifeless, hairless head, and lifted him up.
"Heh heh... What can I say about you? You ant, I don't see any strength that matches your boastful words."
Hun Changqing's cold, evil laughter reached Fan Lao's ears, making him feel as if he were in the deepest abyss of hell. The unparalleled fear in his heart made his broken body tremble uncontrollably.
"Don't worry, don't be afraid, you won't die. You haven't even experienced all those wonderful tortures of the Soul Palace yet~ How could we let you die like this? Heh heh..."
The voice, like a demon's whisper, came from Hun Changqing's mouth again. Upon hearing this, Fan Lao seemed to realize something. Rapid sobs came from the gaps between his limp lips, his eyes filled with pleading, as if begging Hun Changqing to kill him immediately!
"Hehehe..."
Ignoring Fan Lao's pleas, Hun Changqing flicked his black sleeve, and a black chain extended from it, piercing Fan Lao's head in an instant.
However, there was no wound on Fan Lao's head, as if the chain had no substance.
Yet, a shrill scream of a soul instantly emanated from within Fan Lao's skull—a scream only those with powerful souls could hear.
Soon, the chain retracted, binding a phantom figure which shrank back into the sleeve. After toying with the phantom figure for a moment, Hun Changqing tossed Fan Lao's soul into an ancient-looking container.
This chain was the "Soul Binding Technique," a combat skill that directly affected the soul, essential for the Soul Clan and even the Soul Palace. Although this technique was rather useless to Hun Changqing, it was still very convenient for collecting souls.