The tension in the hall immediately escalated.

Everyone had expected these two young men to surrender without resistance, but no one anticipated that they would gain the upper hand and even capture one of their own.

"Good... very good. You have courage. Once I catch you, I'll let you taste the agony of thousand-insect penetration!" the old woman hissed with a voice as shrill as broken glass.

The ordinary disciples standing nearby trembled visibly. They could tell from her tone that she was genuinely enraged now.

"Master, let me handle this!" Number Two stepped forward. She carried no weapon, only a venomous glare fixed on Long Feng. Though she recognized his superior strength compared to hers and the Third Sister, she still believed she could subdue him. The disciples of Ling Shen Mountain were never trained for direct combat — their true specialty lay in deploying spiritous pests. Once she managed to poison him with her special techniques, even a stronger opponent would be powerless in her hands.

"A little careful," said the old woman as she nodded. She knew exactly what Number Two was capable of — while she couldn't match Long Feng's strength in direct confrontation, subterfuge and underhanded tactics were where she truly excelled. This young man clearly lacked combat experience, so despite his superior internal energy levels, she trusted her disciple could still prevail through guile.

Number Two slowly approached the front lines — even more repulsive than the Third Sister. She was corpulent, grotesque with pockmarked skin that looked like it had been burned. Zhang Yang observed them both and felt a wave of nausea. Had this old woman developed some perverse preference? The prettier disciples apparently didn't interest her at all compared to these three living nightmares. Any reasonable person would find the trio's mere presence unbearable — those with severewould likely lose their appetites for nights after seeing them.

Number Two was now moving toward Long Feng, a forty-year-old woman. Number One whispered something to the old woman who merely shook her head in resignation. Their hushed conversation didn't escape Zhang Yang whose enhanced hearing abilities allowed him to catch every word — the data upgrades had transformed his auditory perception into something almost supernatural.

Number One had volunteered to join forces with Number Two against Long Feng for a swift resolution, but the old woman refused. She understood her eldest disciple's intentions perfectly well — that young man was holding an extraordinary weapon. The snowwhip he wielded clearly wasn't ordinary at all. Even the old woman herself felt its allure. After all, their mountain was essentially impoverished — the only divine artifact they possessed (with some imperfections) had been a sheer stroke of luck recovered from a dying internal energy cultivator in Nanjiang.

The old woman's refusal didn't stop Number Two who immediately closed in using evasive maneuvers. She avoided direct confrontation with Long Feng, instead dancing around at a safe distance that only made the young man more uncomfortable — he was genuinely afraid his stomach might rebel against seeing that face again.

Long Feng cracked his snowwhip rapidly, relentlessly pursuing her movements. Initially Number Two managed to dodge successfully, but as the attacks intensified, she became increasingly strained. The two-tier difference in strength made direct combat completely futile for her.

As she leaped mid-air, both of Number Two's sleeves suddenly flung outward — two microscopic specks vanished into the air toward Long Feng. He didn't notice them at all. Zhang Yang however immediately tensed up and launched two silver needles from his fingertips. Though he hadn't seen those tiny pests either, their faint buzzing had betrayed their presence. After all, this was Nanjiang where these people specialized in precisely such tactics — he'd been prepared for something like this long ago.

"Skreeeek!" Two piercing whistles followed by agonized shrieks as two milk-white insects barely thicker than a little finger fell to the ground pierced through with Zhang Yang's needles. The creatures convulsed briefly before becoming completely still.

"My spiritous pests! You killed my precious pests!" Number Two screamed hysterically while Long Feng paused, staring in disbelief at the dead creatures below his feet. With just one glance he realized she'd tried to poison him — this revelation only intensified his anger.

After a brief hesitation, Long Feng's whip moved with even greater speed and ferocity. The disoriented Number Two could barely keep up before being struck by the snowwhip once more, collapsing like her sister had been previously.

Though they cultivated spiritous pests, doing so required immense effort as these creatures needed to absorb human essences for normal development — sometimes disciples had to sacrifice their own energies for nourishment. Generally speaking, possession of spiritous pests directly correlated with one's strength. Ordinary disciples like Wu Meilan could only keep at most one creature each (and often none at all), carefully tending them while waiting for opportunities.

The three sisters were exceptions but still limited — Number Two kept eight spiritous pests in total before two had just been destroyed by Zhang Yang, making her loss particularly painful. As for the old woman herself, she possessed nearly a hundred spiritous pests which she often used to punish disciples by feeding them as sustenance.

After knocking out Number Two, Long Feng casually tossed her body over Number Three's unconscious form. They'd already captured two captives — even if they were only bargaining material, Zhang Yang remained calm now, simply watching the old woman on the dais without urgency.

"Remarkable technique — truly worthy of Master Healer's lineage," the old woman said coldly as she watched Zhang Yang, her voice tinged with menace beneath laughter.

"You witch! You could still stop this right now. If you release our friend from his poisoning, we'll return your disciples immediately!" Long Feng bluntly declared without waiting for Zhang Yang to speak. The earlier incident had already alerted him about the dangers of these creatures — if not for Zhang Yang's constant vigilance, he might have already fallen victim. Now he certainly showed no more contempt toward them than before.

"What did you call me?" the old woman suddenly stood up, her eyes blazing with fury as she lost all pretense at amusement. Hidden in Zhang Yang's backpack, Wuying unexpectedly peeked out and sniffed curiously around. After circling briefly, its gaze landed on the two dead spiritous pests before shifting back to observe Zhang Yang's serious expression — then it silently retreated into the bag.

"Calling you an old witch? What else could you possibly be?" Long Feng chuckled mockingly as Zhang Yang couldn't suppress a small smile. The usually icy demeanor of his companion had suddenly turned surprisingly sharp-tongued.

"You impudent brat! I'll make you both regret ever being born!" the old woman screamed, furious enough to storm down from her dais only to be physically restrained by Number One who rushed forward anxiously: "Master, why would you personally fight such a lowly boy? That's beneath your dignity. Let me handle this!"

The old woman's eyes narrowed as she considered before nodding sharply, "Very well — if you subdue him and rescue my sisters I'll credit you with special merit and reward you with two spiritous pests."

"Reward... two spiritous pests?" Number One froze instantly at the words. She understood immediately that her master had taken interest in Long Feng's weapon. It now became clear she would never get her hands on this snowwhip — a shame, since the old woman was far too powerful for her to challenge. Suppressing her disappointment, she slowly approached Long Feng regardless of the consequences. After all, failing meant punishment awaited her as well.

She wielded a black whip made from reinforced jungle vines — stronger than ordinary whips but paled in comparison against Long Feng's snowwhip. The water-resistant divine artifact was completely impervious to fire and cold. Losing any chance at obtaining the snowwhip filled Number One with resentment, though all her anger remained directed solely at its owner. It baffled even herself how these strange people could think this way.

As she moved within range but kept distance from striking reach, an aura of authority began radiating from her body. Long Feng's expression grew even more serious — he knew this opponent would prove stronger than the previous two. While direct combat wouldn't worry him at all, it was precisely these underhanded tactics and spiritous pests that posed real threats.

Number One suddenly raised her whip and cracked it violently through the air with a deafening sound like an exploding firecracker. At the same time, she lunged forward as Long Feng immediately countered by whipping his snowwhip. Their whips entwined briefly mid-air before separating again as Number One swung once more — this time moving significantly closer to her target due to superior strength. Unlike her sisters who couldn't even get within striking distance, she could at least maintain parity against the young man through sheer power.

The two figures now clashed in a blur of motion as Long Feng actively maneuvered rather than stand his ground, employing both whip techniques and footwork that far exceeded Number One's skills. His superior weapon clearly outperformed hers — after only brief exchanges he already held the advantage.

Wuying peeked out once more during their fight while one white and one black whip had transformed into a whirlwind of shadows filling the hall with gasps from ordinary disciples. Though they'd seen Master Sister train before, this was her first real combat performance and it left them astonished at how formidable she truly was.

More surprisingly still was that this young man could actually hold his own against their senior — some among the spectators were even close to Long Feng's age yet possessed nothing comparable in strength, creating a mixture of envy and resentment among them. They failed to realize however that Number One herself was straining desperately as her usually unbreakable whip had already sustained damage from repeated collisions with the snowwhip. Continuing this brutal exchange would soon cause it to disintegrate completely...

(Chapter 35: Fourth Part - To Be Continued)