Mo Li let out a bitter laugh. Seeing the dark miasma breaking through the defense of the five-colored radiance, he gritted his teeth and threw himself sideways towards Feng Zikang floating in the air.

Upon contact, all the five-colored radiance covering his body transferred entirely onto Feng Zikang! This was the complete divestment of the Undefiled Five-Color divine ability; Mo Li himself was left utterly defenseless.

"Brother Feng, retreat quickly! I will hold the line here!" Mo Li knew Feng Zikang’s cultivation surpassed his own, but he was still only a disciple at the fourth layer of Qi Induction.

Facing the vast, world-enveloping black miasma, he surely stood no chance. The only reason Feng Zikang had followed him to this perilous place was a misunderstanding, and Mo Li felt a deep burden of self-reproach.

Now, with fierce resolve, he poured all his vital energy into protecting Feng Zikang, closing his eyes to await death. Struck by Mo Li, Feng Zikang understood the good intention behind the act, though he was momentarily stunned.

He seized the opportunity to fly out of the black mist, hearing the five-colored radiance crackling around him, while he himself remained completely unaffected. He retreated beyond the perimeter just as the myriad dark energies suddenly converged and vanished without a trace, leaving behind only Mo Li, face pale and eyes tightly shut, plummeting headfirst from the sky.

"...A descendant of the Mo School, possessing such a selfless heart, truly..." Feng Zikang slowly shook his head, unsure of how to categorize Mo Li's actions. Between life and death lies profound terror, yet this man, at the critical juncture, traded his own life for another's.

This was genuinely shocking to him. In his past life, he too had acted bravely—a surge of youthful spirit where he hadn't truly considered the horror of death.

But Mo Li was a cultivator who had seen through life and death, yet still chose to treat others this way, valuing another's life above his own. The Dao of the Mo School was truly the Way of Universal Love.

"To stand by my own Dao... that is one thing..." Feng Zikang swept those musings aside and drifted forward, catching Mo Li's falling body.

"Jie jie, you little brat, after narrowly escaping my great divine power, you dare linger? Do you have a death wish?" The demonic figure hidden in the shadows cackled sinisterly, his voice an unpleasant grating sound, like sawing wood.

Feng Zikang snorted coldly, gently placing Mo Li on the ground, and smiled calmly. "With such paltry divine power, you expect me to flee?

If your master were here saying that, perhaps I would weigh my options. As for you..." Feng Zikang lightly flicked his sword.

"Killing you is no different than slaughtering a dog!" The fiend fell silent for a long moment, not daring to retort. After a prolonged pause, he finally murmured, "Who are you?

How do you know of my master? State your name, lest we mistake friend for foe!" Feng Zikang laughed aloud.

"Rest assured, I do not know your master, nor do I know his title... merely an inference!" All the villagers in Longshi Valley had died in an instant, their souls swept away by a mere pass of the Nine Nethers Soul-Searching Grand Art.

Though mere mortals, the power of their souls was not to be underestimated, to erase them in a flash—such divine cultivation was terrifyingly renowned! However, the demon battling the two used the same technique, but under full exertion, its power was significantly inferior.

Compared to the casual ease displayed in Longshi Valley, this was far weaker. By deduction, this fiend was at most a disciple or grand-disciple of the true culprit.

If he had encountered the ultimate villain, Feng Zikang would naturally turn tail and run as far and fast as possible; but a mere apprentice without backup? Why should he fear him?

His prior posturing had only been achieved through transmitting sound via the living souls. Feng Zikang had been momentarily fooled, but once they engaged, the difference in strength became immediately apparent!

The demon poked its head out from the foul miasma, eyeing the audacious youth with suspicion. It had white hair, a dark face, was draped in a patterned tiger hide, and held a pale, stark white bone staff.

Its form was short and misshapen—truly a creature of the monstrous kind. "I am Wu Lingzi, a disciple under the White Bone Divine Lord of Mangcang Mountain.

Who are you?" The older one gets in the martial world, the more cautious one becomes. Wu Lingzi was a seasoned veteran.

He had assumed these were just two youngsters he could easily dispatch, leaving no loose ends. Even if they were from minor sects, their masters might not seek revenge across such distances, and even if they did, the world was vast enough to evade them.

But Feng Zikang’s arrogant tone and composed demeanor made him second-guess himself. Thus, he offered his name to establish a connection.

The Mo School disciple who preached vengeance for mortals was already unconscious. This cold-faced fellow might not necessarily pick a fight over a few commoners.

"White Bone Divine Lord?" Feng Zikang shook his head. "Never heard of him!" "You!" Wu Lingzi erupted in fury.

Even among the wicked sects, respect for one's master was paramount, often more so than in the righteous path—because disrespect often led to immediate execution. The fame of his master, the White Bone Divine Lord, weighed heavier on his heart than Mount Tai.

To hear such contemptuous words from Feng Zikang instantly ignited his inner demons. "Die for me!" Wu Lingzi swung his bone staff, chanting incantations, bit his tongue, and spat out a mouthful of blood!

The dark miasma surged up again, its power greater than before. "Hmph!" Feng Zikang scoffed.

"A spent arrow cannot pierce silk gauze. You try to fuel the Nine Nethers Soul-Searching Grand Art with your heart's blood.

It succeeded once, but what use is another attempt now?" Even the first time, Feng Zikang had not feared it. What reason had he to fear this level of aggrieved soul essence?

He could absorb all such resentment using his own internal demonic arts. Furthermore, the second casting, despite its increased initial momentum, would lack staying power.

He genuinely did not take it seriously. "Jie jie, arrogant junior!" Wu Lingzi spat another mouthful of blood, and the dark miasma gradually condensed, its color deepening further.

"With my vital essence assisting, I can push this technique to the fifteenth layer, the Soul Condensation Realm! All living things will perish upon touch.

You..." Suddenly, he felt a numbness creep down his neck, realizing Feng Zikang had, without him noticing, appeared beside him. A light sweep of an iron sword left a smear of fresh blood on the blade, and a short, withered body began to slump towards the ground.

"You..." In his terror, he looked down, only to see that his neck was already severed from his body! While he had been prattling on, Feng Zikang had already taken his head!

"You chatter far too much..." "Perish upon touch, so what? This black mist never even touched me..." Feng Zikang’s expression was blank as he lightly shook the blood from his sword.

Instant step, swift strike—dealing with such a weak, posturing fringe art required barely any effort from him. "You...

you dare kill me?!" Wu Lingzi's severed head shrieked, a mixture of fear and hatred. "My master will never let you off..." Thud!

As his head hit the dirt, Feng Zikang stomped it into a pulp with his foot. Simultaneously, the dark mist formed by the gathered vengeful souls let out a mournful cry before scattering away.

These souls, freed from restraint, would naturally cause a disturbance in the mortal realm, but having died unjustly, they would not linger long in the world, and Feng Zikang had no intention of concerning himself with them. "Your master doesn't even know such a foolish disciple is dead.

Who exactly is supposed to seek revenge?" Feng Zikang shook his head. "Foolishness is truly an irritating crime..." He glanced back.

Mo Li still lay on the ground, unconscious, faint wisps of dark energy lingering around his pale features.