The slender, thin throwing knife was embedded in the tree trunk, trembling slightly, as if exhilarated by taking the life of a Troll-blooded Demon Martial Artist. The faint traces of blood upon it were quickly washed clean again by the downpour.

The battlefield, which a second ago had been so intense it seemed ready to explode, was now dominated only by the sound of the rain pounding the earth. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by rolling thunder, adding a third measure of tragic solemnity to the scene.

Qian Jin coughed violently. Nila’s final punch, delivered at the brink of death, had surged in power rather than diminished the moment he was shot. Whether man or demon, at the precipice of death, one always unleashes strength beyond the ordinary.

The Fengyun Golden Body was scattered only to reform again. Though the bones in his chest hadn't fractured, every bone in his body felt as though it would be shaken apart by that punch, and his throat felt as if he had swallowed a glowing hot iron rod. Hiss!

In the driving rain, Duanfeng Bu’er sank heavily to his knees, supporting himself on one hand on the muddy ground so as not to collapse entirely. He lifted his head, grinning happily at Qian Jin. Blood, washed by the rain, streamed down his sharply chiseled face and splattered onto the ground. "Heh heh..." Duanfeng Bu’er chuckled softly, a slight grimace crossing his face as his injured muscles tightened with pain. "I truly wasn't mistaken about you. You are my comrade-in-arms..."

That arrow! Everyone understood that if it had appeared a moment later, if the strike had been delayed! Perhaps a single arrow would have been enough to pierce the heart and complete the mission with ease!

Pfft... Duanfeng Bu’er’s arm lost all strength to support his body, and he fell heavily into the muddy water, kicking up a large splash. The joyous smile remained fixed on his face, and he murmured, "I finally have a comrade-in-arms I can trust with my life. Old man, did you see that from among the stars?"

Chekeflitte lay sprawled in the mud. Ba raised his head weakly to look at the trembling throwing knife stuck in the tree nearby, and then at Nila’s corpse, whose body was fallen but whose posterior still sputtered blood.

An astonishing strike! Chekeflitte "L" had never witnessed anyone in this world wield throwing knives with such uncanny mastery! Merely with this knife, slightly longer than a middle finger, he had managed to kill Nila, who possessed Troll-bloodline power and was at the Second Tier, Second Layer!

Some bloodline warriors could engage in cross-level combat by relying on their unique abilities, combined with faster aura circulation than their peers, and powerful combat techniques. Yet, none had done what this fellow had—eliminating an opponent who was a full major realm above him in just three moves.

Furthermore! That punch... Chekeflitte had heard it with perfect clarity. Nila’s fist had landed solidly on Qian Jin’s chest. The sheer brute force of the Troll bloodline, combined with the piercing power of the aura burst, made Nila one of the absolute best among the Ten Great Bloodline Demon Martial Artists. Even if he himself had activated the Fallen Angel bloodline and taken a direct hit to the chest, shattering his sternum would have been a minor injury; there was a 99% chance he would have taken that punch and immediately exploded from the internal trauma.

Yet, this ordinary bloodline warrior merely turned slightly red in the face before standing up as if unharmed, as if the punch he just received hadn't come from a Troll-blooded, Second Tier, Second Layer powerhouse, but from a small child tapping his chest. What in the world was going on? How was this possible! What astonishing, special combat technique had he cultivated?

Chekeflitte could not believe it, and the deceased Nila could not believe it either; his wide-open eyes were filled with shock, confusion, and terror! A Demon Subjugation Ninth Warrior, whom he could normally crush with one punch—and one who wasn't even a bloodline warrior—had ended his life with just one arrow, one blade, and one throwing knife.

The rain poured relentlessly from the sky. Qian Jin walked step by step to Duanfeng Bu’er, reached out, placed the latter’s arm over his shoulder, and lifted him up. He then moved to the unconscious Fen Tukuangge, hoisting him onto his other shoulder. Finally, he approached Chekeflitte, the mixed-blood saint who had awakened the power of the Fallen Angel bloodline.

Only at this moment was Qian Jin certain that Chekeflitte was neither entirely human nor truly a demon; he was the offspring of a union between a demon and a human.

A hybrid! Even though the wars between the Zhence Dynasty and the Lucifer Dynasty never ceased, this did not prevent demons and humans from cohabiting.

On the contrary, the conflict itself had once spurred the birth of many human-demon hybrids, though their numbers had dwindled over time.

Qian Jin remembered that during the height of the fighting, when both sides desperately sought to defeat the other, they employed a method involving bloodlines: live bloodline warriors captured on the battlefield were immediately sent back for forced breeding in the hopes of producing hybrids that might inherit the enemy's bloodline power.

Whether due to some strange biological barrier between humans and demons, or some other factor, their unions produced offspring, yet no hybrid had ever truly awakened their bloodline power.

As the years passed and hatred deepened, the appearance of human-demon hybrids became increasingly rare.

"Humans and demons uniting—don't they inherently fail to produce offspring capable of awakening bloodline power?" Qian Jin looked down at Chekeflitte, whose back bones were likely shattered but who remained conscious. "Can you stand up?"

Chekeflitte managed to push himself up slightly on his arms, trying to rise from the ground. The pain in his back felt like hundreds of knives piercing him. Though his spine wasn't broken, nearly every bone adjacent to it was fractured under the heavy impact of Nila’s thick, powerful arms. The intense agony caused Chekeflitte’s lip to split as he sucked in half a breath of cold air, and his body collapsed back into the mud, his beautiful lips instantly smeared with yellow sludge. Qian Jin looked at the injured Chekeflitte and had to admit that even in his pain, this human-demon hybrid was strikingly handsome.

"Looks like you're in a rough spot too," Qian Jin said, squatting down to speak to Duanfeng Bu’er beside him. "Give me a hand."

Chekeflitte remained prone in the water, ignoring the arm Duanfeng Bu’er extended, and looked coldly at Qian Jin, demanding, "Why? Why save me?"

Qian Jin looked at Chekeflitte’s grim expression and had to concede that this hybrid possessing the Fallen Angel bloodline definitely had the looks to pull off a brooding demeanor. If young girls saw him now, countless would surely be mesmerized.

"Because the Dark Guard wants you dead," Duanfeng Bu’er said, extending his arm further. "We are only here to foil the Dark Guard’s plans. You are fortunate that what they intend to do is precisely what we are disrupting. That is all."

Chekeflitte didn't reach out; he lay in the mud, his long, beautiful, single-lidded eyes filled with wariness and suspicion. A cold smirk touched the corner of his lips. "If I weren't a Fallen Angel bloodline Demon Martial Artist, after you killed those Dark Guard dogs, would you spare my life when you saw how badly I was injured?"

A Fallen Angel bloodline Demon Martial Artist! Even if it was only at the initial awakening stage, and he could never progress further in his life, that was still combat power that could not be ignored! Chekeflitte knew his worth, and an indescribable chill flickered in his beautiful eyes.

"Fallen Angel bloodline? That's nothing," Duanfeng Bu’er’s smile vanished, replaced by a sneer. He abruptly retracted his outstretched arm and straightened his posture. "Before we infiltrated the demon territory to find you, what did we know about you? If you want to die, nobody’s stopping you!"

A surprising gleam shone in Chekeflitte’s cold eyes as he heard Duanfeng Bu’er continue, "Qian Jin, let's go, let's go. We cut off the head of the Dark Guard Two-Star. We can take his proof of identity and report back."

Qian Jin slowly bent down toward Chekeflitte. "Come with us. Your injuries prevent you from leaving alone right now. If you still have a life goal, then you shouldn't refuse my aid."

"A life goal?" A strange light appeared in Chekeflitte’s austere eyes. His lips twitched slightly, and his chin tilted up to accept the torrential rain, washing the last bits of mud from his cheeks. His long black hair, soaked, clung to his face, revealing a devastating beauty that could almost be called enchanting as he gazed at Qian Jin.

Beautiful! Qian Jin looked at this hybrid, possessing the world's rarest Fallen Angel bloodline and such stunning looks, and nodded slowly. He spoke in a calm voice, "People live because they have goals; a life with purpose is meaningful. If you no longer have a goal, then just stay here in the mud and wait for your life to fade."

"Hmph, I do," a hint of savage resentment flickered across Chekeflitte’s exquisite face. "I still need to kill a demon!" Qian Jin glanced at Duanfeng Bu’er beside him and sent a look across.

"Ugh! Who told you to be my comrade-in-arms?" Duanfeng Bu’er slowly extended his arm again, pouting. "Come on, handsome boy."

Chekeflitte still didn't move, his face, whose sheer beauty could make countless women feel inadequate, turned toward Qian Jin, and he spoke faintly, "Nila, kill Dedro." Dedro? Qian Jin frowned. Perhaps the hybrid’s apprentice? "You killed Nila," Chekeflitte stated firmly but slowly. "I am grateful to you."

Qian Jin looked up at the heavy rain above. "If you’re grateful, hurry up and come with us. This downpour can still conceal our tracks. Once the rain stops, in your current state? You won't even be able to run! I suspect the Dark Guard sent more than just these few, right? I heard even a Dark Guard Seven-Star was mobilized..."

Qian Jin shook his head slightly, the water dripping from his wet black hair scattering into the storm. "It seems I underestimated the Dark Guard Seven-Stars."

Chekeflitte did not refuse Duanfeng Bu’er’s hand again. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he slowly rose. Every minuscule shift of the broken bones in his back made him want to cry out, but first, shouting might attract attention, and second, the other two heavily wounded men hadn't cried out, so how could he? "There is no Seven-Star," Chekeflitte gasped through clenched teeth, drawing in cold air from the pain as he spoke. "There is still one Three-Star here..."

A Three-Star? Qian Jin considered briefly, abandoning the immense temptation to ambush and kill another demon. The rumored power differences between Dark Guard Stars were immense. Killing the Two-Star had required the distraction provided by his companions. Facing another Three-Star, with the two of them plus the half-demon not even possessing a full measure of life between them—it was too risky.

"How... how do you plan to treat me?" Chekeflitte stumbled forward, his feet dragging in the mud. His eyes still held significant caution and doubt.

A hybrid might mean little to the Zhence Dynasty, but a hybrid being hunted by the Dark Guard immediately carried considerable value. If that bloodline warrior was one of the Demon Royal Family’s Fallen Angel bloodline, it would surely pique the Zhence Dynasty's intense interest.

If this bloodline warrior also possessed the Fallen Angel bloodline of the demon royalty, just how much interest would that generate? Perhaps only the gods rumored to be sleeping among the stars would know.

"If you were dead," Qian Jin glanced at Chekeflitte, "I might have handed you over to the Zhence Dynasty, even as a corpse. A hybrid possessing the Demon Royal Family's Fallen Angel bloodline is still a monumental achievement." Chekeflitte smiled faintly, as expected. Under the rain, his face even took on a haunting, exquisite beauty. If his clothes hadn't been ripped in the recent fight, Qian Jin might have genuinely mistaken this hybrid for a woman in disguise, having glimpsed his male anatomy.

"But the problem is, you're alive," Qian Jin sighed softly. "Handing you over to the Dynasty... I genuinely cannot imagine how those rare, fanatical, and frankly, insane mysterious alchemists would go about researching you."

Chekeflitte shuddered, but it wasn't a reaction to the pain of his broken back; it was an instinctive fear of the mysterious alchemists.

Over the years of war, even the corpses of alien bloodline warriors held immense value in the eyes of these mysterious alchemists. Although they had made absolutely no breakthrough, or even gained any real insight, in the research of alien bloodline warriors over all this time, it didn't stop their insane minds from racing.

Though he had never witnessed firsthand how depraved these alchemists were, Chekeflitte had seen a cold-blooded assassin from the Dark Guard, after accompanying a demon alchemist during research on the corpse of a Zhence Dynasty Titan bloodline warrior, squatting in a corner and vomiting for a full hour, his face ghostly pale.

In the demon world, the Dark Guard had many epithets, one of which was "Lacking Demonic Nature!" In human terms, they were simply ruthless killing machines devoid of humanity.

Every member of the Dark Guard survived an environment with an extremely high rate of attrition. They stepped over the corpses of their comrades, carried their comrades' heads, and were accustomed to scenes of gore and severed limbs; many demons had even slept among piles of bodies for extended periods.

They were practically numb to everything in the world, yet one alchemist's research session managed to make one vomit for an entire hour, turning the demon’s naturally crimson skin the color of bleached paper. Just how much had he thrown up?

"I truly wish I had grand ambitions, and I wish I could quickly allow my family to stand tall again. But..." Qian Jin's face showed an indescribable sense of helplessness. "I can't get past my own conscience. I even considered just putting my blade through you and taking your corpse back to the Zhence Dynasty. But for you, alive—I can't bring myself to do it. Damn it! Maybe this temperament of mine means I’m not meant for great deeds? The books say a true overlord must have a sufficiently ruthless heart and iron-hard methods! To achieve their goals, they kill a hundred thousand without blinking, even killing kin... but I..."

Chekeflitte turned his head to gaze silently at Qian Jin, suddenly finding this person he had just met difficult to understand.

During the fight with Nila, his decisive judgment, thunderous strikes, and ferocious slaughter! Everything about him suggested a general who would slaughter ten thousand without blinking! The killing intent that erupted in that moment! If not for that terrifying aura, Nila might have reacted faster, or perhaps he wouldn't have died. Yet, this person couldn't bring himself to kill him?

Qian Jin walked dozens of steps away from Chekeflitte’s questioning gaze. Finally, he could no longer bear being stared down by such a devastatingly handsome contemporary male.

"I said..." Qian Jin sighed. "Stop staring at me like that. If you keep finding me strange, just assume I am someone who dislikes destroying beautiful things. Your sheer beauty made me reluctant to hand you over to the Zhence Dynasty. I feared if I sent you there, not only would the alchemists be interested in you, but what if the men of the Royal Family took an interest in you too?"

"That's right! Comrade, you are too kind-hearted," Duanfeng Bu’er chimed in, deliberately putting on a look of concern to retaliate for Chekeflitte’s earlier refusal of help. "I’ve read many stories written by the Dynasty’s bards. I heard many royal men have a taste for men, and with your exquisite looks, you’d surely be very popular if offered up!" Chekeflitte’s handsome, pale face instantly drained of all color!

Qian Jin watched Duanfeng Bu’er’s earnest expression and shook his head, sighing. He had probably genuinely terrified Chekeflitte this time, but the Zhence Dynasty's royalty was still relatively clear-headed; such rumors were mostly fabricated by bards looking to make money. "Say, Qian Jin, where are we heading now?"

"Away from the demon territory. We need to treat our injuries now. If we are found by the Dark Guard, we're dead! We must push, even if it hurts, to get clear of the Lucifer Dynasty's borders! Once we reach the outskirts, our chances of survival increase significantly."

"That's true, but my ribs really hurt... When we get back to the Zhence Dynasty, you absolutely must reforge the Bu'er Spear for me. Only now do I realize how effective the reverse-guidance aura is for combat weapons."

"And how did you practice those throwing knives? I didn't even see you move before Nila was dead. That's far superior to the technique those Dark Guard knife-throwers use!"

"You're so badly injured and you can still talk like that?" Qian Jin shook his head repeatedly in exasperation. It seemed Nila of the Troll bloodline hadn't hit him hard enough.

Under the driving rain, the four young warriors’ battered figures slowly vanished into the curtain of water. The occasional questions from Duanfeng Bu’er gradually faded into the distance.

For more novels, visit storyread.net.