King of Hundred Victories Saber

Chapter 142: Chapter 108: Shi Feiyang Repels the Invaders, Exploring Black Wind Stronghold with Heroes (Part 2)

Immediately, Shi Feiyang kicked hard with both legs, leaping high from the horseback, tracing a graceful arc in the air with a ”whoosh,” tossing Gong Simeng into the sky. The Vermilion Bird, which had been circling in the air and watching Shi Feiyang closely, caught Gong Simeng steadily with its claws as if they were a pair of iron pliers. Gong Simeng, utilizing the vermilion bird’s strength, nimbly flipped onto its back. Her eyes still retained a trace of terror, but more evident was her concern for Shi Feiyang, watching the imperiled Shi Feiyang closely below, her heart pounding heavily, the ”thump thump” sound clearly audible.

Lie Quan and several disciples of the Heroic Sakura Association reacted swiftly, quickly drawing their swords, swinging them fiercely to try to block the incoming arrows.

The constant ”clang clang” of metal colliding filled the air as swords and arrows clashed, sparking flashes in the darkness.

The darkness before dawn was as thick as ink, like a massive black silk, tightly wrapping the entire canyon.

A group of assassins dressed in black, they appeared silently like specters crawling up from the Hell Abyss.

They exuded a chilling aura as if they had emerged from a thousand-year-old icy pond, freezing the air wherever they went, sending a piercing chill. The weapons they tightly gripped glistened coldly; the blade’s sharpness exuded an icy killing intent; the spear’s sharpness seemed capable of piercing through any obstruction; the sword’s sharpness carried a deadly cold gleam; the halberd’s vigor contained immense power; the hammer’s weight seemed capable of crushing a small mountain; the axe’s dominance exhibited a fierce aura.

In this deathly silence, the cold gleam of these weapons resembled countless pairs of flickering ghostly eyes, displaying their ferocity.

They surged like a raging tide with endless killing intent, madly lunging towards Lie Quan and his disciples, their footsteps thudding on the ground with a dull and powerful impact, ”thump thump thump,” each beat resonating heavily in everyone’s hearts.

At an extremely critical moment, Shi Feiyang descended from the sky like thunder cutting through the night, bringing with him an overwhelming momentum.

His eyes widened, his gaze burning with flames of anger, flames that seemed capable of igniting this dark world.

He shouted loudly, his voice echoing in all directions, the sound booming like a great bell, seemingly capable of tearing through the thick darkness, resonating in the canyon for a long time, causing the valley to tremble. He performed the ”Divine Dragon Claw” skill and unleashed a move called ”Dragon Roar Nine Heavens,” landing firmly with both feet, kicking up a cloud of dust, the dust soaring like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, creating rippling waves.

Shi Feiyang’s hands instantly transformed into sharp claws, resembling a dragon emerging from the abyss, carrying a mountainous, overwhelming force, the air resonating with what seemed like the roar of a dragon, the roar painfully shaking one’s eardrums, the ”ao wu” sound unending.

Shi Feiyang’s figure moved like lightning, weaving effortlessly through the black-clad figures like a ghost.

Every strike he made was as fast as lightning, leaving no time for any reaction; his force seemed capable of crushing everything that stood in his way. His left hand’s five fingers moved with a whooshing sound like five sharp daggers, viciously clawing toward a black-clad figure holding a long knife. The figure saw this and widened his eyes in terror, trying to lift his knife to block, but Shi Feiyang’s speed was too fast, giving him no time to make an effective defense. Shi Feiyang’s sharp claws instantly pierced through the black-clad figure’s chest with a ”puff,” blood spattering everywhere, the figure letting out a miserable scream, ”Ah——,” the sound echoing through the gorge, filled with despair and pain, continuously reverberating in the silent valley, sending chills down the spine.

The black-clad figure’s pupils suddenly shrank, as if an invisible hand had instantly gripped his heart; fear surged over him like a tide, completely drowning him. His face was filled with panic, his features contorted out of sheer terror, having already glimpsed the grim visage of Death God drawing closer step by step. At this critical moment of life and death, his mind went blank, his legs weakened, and before he could make any defensive move, he felt an intense pain in his chest, as if a giant hand with the power to split mountains and break rocks was tearing open his chest with thunderous force.

With a ”crack,” the sound of bones breaking was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent night, like the whisper of a demon, eerie and terrifying, sending shivers down one’s spine, as if a curse from the Nine Nether Hell continuously echoed in his ears.

Shi Feiyang’s five fingers were deeply embedded in his chest as if they were five sharp steel knives, mercilessly reaping his life.

Immediately after, Shi Feiyang violently withdrew his hand, leaving the black-clad figure to collapse to the ground like a pile of mud, the breath of life extinguishing rapidly like a candle flickering in the wind, leaving only a pair of empty eyes, gazing into the endless darkness, recounting his fear and resentment of death.

Another black-clad figure wielding a sword attempted to strike while Shi Feiyang was attacking, sneaking up like a venomous snake hiding in the shadows. The sword blade sliced through the air, emitting a sharp whistle, ”whoosh——,” that sound akin to a life-taking specter howling in the dark, piercing the silent night sky, sending chills up one’s spine. Shi Feiyang seemed to have eyes on the back of his head, a flicker of disdain crossing his eyes—a gaze that regarded the intruding black-clad figure as an inconsequential ant, as in his eyes, this attacker was simply overestimating himself.

Shi Feiyang’s body turned ghostly, moving so fast that only an afterimage could be seen, like a meteor streaking across the night sky, vanishing in an instant. Accompanying his turning motion, the air was ripped asunder, producing a ”sss sss” sound.

Shi Feiyang’s right hand swung back like lightning, directly snapping the wrist of the black-clad figure.

With a ”crack,” the sound of bones breaking was crisp and piercing, the sharp sword clattering to the ground, emitting a clear sound in the silence, this death knell marking the final Chapter of this black-clad figure’s life.

Immediately after, Shi Feiyang moved forward in one fluid motion, like a black lightning bolt, once again striking the black-clad figure’s throat. The figure immediately ceased breathing, their eyes retaining vestiges of fear, frozen in that moment, becoming an eternal specimen of terror.

A black-clad figure wielding a halberd, unwilling to concede, attempted to ambush from the side, his eyes gleaming with greed and ferocity, like a hungry wolf eyeing its prey. Spanning lightly on his toes, he lifted the halberd high, the spear tip glimmering coldly, slicing through the air, creating a ”whoosh whoosh” sound. Shi Feiyang remained unhurried, calm and composed, like an imposing mountain, standing firm against the wind and rain.

In the blink of an eye, Shi Feiyang sidestepped away from the halberd’s edge, the blade scraping past his clothes, producing a ”hiss” sound. His left hand’s fingers seamlessly grabbed the halberd shaft, the motion smooth and natural, without a trace of hesitation.

With a forceful pull, the black-clad figure was dragged closer, his face full of astonishment and panic, as if unable to believe his meticulously planned ambush had been so easily seen through, his expression revealing inner unwillingness and shock.

Shi Feiyang lifted a leg and kicked, with a force seemingly capable of kicking away a small mountain, with a ”bang” sound, like a muffled cannon shot, sending the figure flying several yards away. When the black-clad figure landed, he was already lifeless, leaving behind only a swirl of dust, recounting his tragic end.

The swirling dust was his final struggle for life.