Chapter 120: The One Who Should Fear Is Not Him

Night fell into ink-black darkness.

Deep within the temple, Fu Feng crouched on the altar, emitting agonized roars. His face was shrouded in a strange black mist that seemed alive, like countless octopus tentacles writhing and clawing wildly across his skin. The dark tendrils continuously slipped into his eyes, ears, mouth, and nostrils, invading his body.

Below the altar, all eyes were fixed on Fu Feng.

Yet, Ning Xiu silently approached behind Leng Ying, expression calm, his gaze cold and emotionless. Behind him, the divine sword Wanliu unsheathed with a sharp “clang.”

Suddenly, a piercing whistle echoed through the great hall. Ning Xiu gripped his long sword, merging with it as one, and struck like lightning, thrusting toward Leng Ying’s back.

Although Leng Ying’s attention was mostly on the altar, he remained vigilant of the surroundings, sensing the abnormal qi fluctuations behind him. He turned, pupils constricting, and stamped his right foot hard on the ground. The stone floor beneath him rose swiftly, forming a shield before his body.

The dazzling sword light cut through the thick stone floor in an instant, only to be caught by a sudden iron claw sprung forth. The sharp, swift blade clashed violently with the hard, menacing claw, producing a deafening crack!

Leng Ying’s already pale face went even paler; he clearly suffered an unexpected blow. Ning Xiu’s strike was fully charged, while Leng Ying’s reaction was hurried, incomparable in power.

Yet Ning Xiu’s assault was far from over.

Riding the force of the counterattack, Ning Xiu leapt into the air, the Wanliu sword blazing brilliantly. One became two, two became four, four multiplied into eight.

A total of twenty-two sword energies shot forth from all angles toward Leng Ying.

Leng Ying’s expression changed drastically. His eyes were assaulted by fierce sword energies.

With a fierce roar, he shook both arms violently. His sleeves disintegrated instantly, revealing two arms veined and bulging like serpents twisting beneath the skin. Muscles swelled fiercely, and his ten fingers gleamed with a metallic luster, tipped with dark, razor-sharp claws like a hunting hawk’s. These arms no longer resembled those of a human.

He raised his arms to shield himself as the sword energies screamed past him in a whirlwind. Sparks flew, accompanied by bursts of blood.

In that moment, the sword energies unleashed countless attacks in rapid succession.

All this unfolded in the blink of an eye.

Though it seemed complex and perilous, it was over in an instant. Fu Feng’s pained roars on the altar persisted; the shattered stone fragments hovered midair. Pan Long, standing nearby, was still too stunned to react.

At last, Ning Xiu landed on the ground. The relentless storm of attacks ceased.

Drip, drip… crimson blood dripped steadily from Leng Ying to the floor, soon pooling into a small crimson lake.

He lifted his head, coldly staring at Ning Xiu, his voice hoarse: “So it’s you…”

“So it’s you.”

Ning Xiu’s expression remained unchanged, silently regarding Leng Ying.

“Seems Lord Leng has already seen through the current situation clearly. That saves me the trouble of explaining,” Ning Xiu said, glancing at him before slowly stepping forward.

“You bear no real grudge against our Six Doors. Your true target is the Shadow Alliance, and coincidentally, we of the Six Doors are also confronting them. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. There’s no need for us to be at odds like this.” Leng Ying glanced toward the altar and continued, “As for the divine awakening ritual, if you don’t wish to participate, I won’t force you.”

His words came fast and urgent.

This was the longest speech Leng Ying had delivered since joining the Six Doors. Had he not been recently gravely wounded by Xuan Mo, he would never have fallen to such a low state.

“That hardly sounds like the words of a wise man,” Ning Xiu smiled slightly, his steps unceasing.

Seeing this, Leng Ying’s heart sank deeply. His hope of swaying the other with words was utterly shattered. From Ning Xiu’s demeanor, there was no room for negotiation.

“To prevent interruption of the ritual, you sealed the hall completely. If you’re hoping for reinforcements, you’re dreaming,” Ning Xiu said, suddenly halting and swiftly reaching behind him with his right hand.

Pan Long, preparing to strike, changed expression sharply, sensing danger. He tried to block, but Ning Xiu’s defense was instantly broken.

Before he could react, Ning Xiu’s grip was locked tight around his throat, a suffocating pressure nearly cutting off his breath.

The speed was astonishing, but even more commendable was Ning Xiu’s keen perception.

Pan Long was far weaker than Ning Xiu had anticipated. Though now possessing power at the transformative realm, he was unable to fully unleash it, as if the strength was not truly his.

Ning Xiu tightened his grip slightly.

With a crisp cracking sound, Pan Long’s neck was crushed utterly.

Ning Xiu casually tossed the corpse aside, turning back to Leng Ying.

“If those are the reinforcements you’re counting on, I suggest you don’t get your hopes up.”

Leng Ying stared fiercely at Ning Xiu, then slowly closed his mouth, regaining his usual icy composure.

Fu Feng’s agonized howls atop the altar gradually subsided, signaling the ritual’s final stage.

The entire hall seemed to still for a moment, but the calm was swiftly broken.

Ning Xiu had not wasted his time; he had been closely monitoring the Six Doors. He knew Leng Ying was injured, and that the true master of the Six Doors was currently absent.

He was fully aware of the Six Doors’ condition.

To avoid complications, he resolved to act.

He had initially hoped to extract some information from Leng Ying, but now deemed it unnecessary. Whether Leng Ying would speak was uncertain, and even if he did, Ning Xiu would not risk himself for unverified intelligence.

He had more or less acquired what he sought.

“Since you’re ready to die, then so be it.”

Ning Xiu’s gaze was cold as he stamped his foot, transforming into a sharp arrow and dashing fiercely toward Leng Ying.

At full strength, Leng Ying was slightly superior to the Red-Clad, but after successive heavy blows, his power was reduced to less than a tenth, weaker even than the Red-Clad. How could he possibly contend with Ning Xiu now?

This was why Ning Xiu was so confident and fearless.

Because the one who should feel fear was not him.