One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Chapter 128 The Battle Begins

Centered on Nie Lingfeng, the air within a radius of three zhang instantly dropped to freezing point! White frost flowers condensed on the ground, tiny ice crystals floated in the air, and even the breath turned into white mist.

The three Wang family members who wanted to flank from the left and right suddenly slowed down, as if they were stuck in sticky glue, making every step incredibly difficult. A thin layer of white frost had formed on their eyebrows, hair, and even eyelashes.

Nie Lingfeng didn't even look at them, and just casually kicked out three times.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three muffled thuds. The three men, like three frozen logs, were kicked away, crashing into a locust tree by the roadside, sliding to the ground, their bodies covered in frost, shivering, unable to even scream.

He played faster and faster, and his game became smoother and smoother.

Fists, palms, and legs—the three martial arts techniques—are no longer independent moves in his hands, but gradually merge, switch freely, and become a unified whole.

He swept out with his leg, the wind of which carried the soft power of the Cloud-Dispelling Palm and the chill of the Heavenly Frost Fist—a seemingly fierce kick that became as flexible as a whip upon contact, deflecting the three slashing blades. At the same time, the chill spread along the blades, making the wielder's arm go numb.

At the same time, he struck out with a palm, the palm wind carrying the speed of the Wind God Leg and the condensation of the Heavenly Frost Fist—the palm wind was as fast as lightning, so fast that no one could see its trajectory, knocking away two attacking assassins. Where the palm wind passed, a faint icy mist remained in the air.

Then he threw a punch, the force of which carried the variations of the Wind God Leg and the gathering and dispersing of the Cloud Dispelling Palm—the fist shadow was unpredictable, gathering and dispersing unpredictably, but each punch contained terrifying coldness and impact, freezing a Wang family member who wanted to sneak up from behind, and then adding a kick, making his chest cave in, spitting blood and falling to the ground.

"Not enough...not enough..." Nie Lingfeng thought frantically as he fought.

Last time in the Southwest, when facing Ghost Hand and Blood Blade, he vaguely touched the threshold of "Three Absolutes in One" under the pressure of life and death. The formlessness of the wind—formless and intangible, ever-changing; the impermanence of the clouds—gathering and scattering unpredictably, gentle yet firm; the ruthlessness of frost—freezing everything, cold and decisive.

If these three states of mind and three powers can be perfectly integrated, one can master the legendary...

The three parts return to their origin.

But it's still a little short.

He's missing a catalyst, a rival who can unleash his full potential and force him to fight to the death...

There aren't enough people now.

Although they outnumbered the others and were fearless, the difference in strength was too great. Most of these Wang family members were at the early to mid-stages of Qi Refining, with only a few at the late stage, and not a single one at the Foundation Establishment stage. The servants hadn't even touched the threshold of Qi Refining; they were merely stronger than ordinary people. While the assassins were strange, they relied more on drugs and secret techniques to stimulate their potential; their actual cultivation level wasn't high.

In the face of absolute power, numerical superiority is nothing but a joke.

Nie Lingfeng was like a tiger among sheep, invincible. Every move he made was simple, direct, and brutal, yet incredibly powerful. The Wang family members, servants, and assassins were like paper before him, crumbling at the slightest touch and flying away at the first contact.

In just seven or eight minutes, more than forty people had already fallen asleep under the archway.

They lay scattered about, each with its own unique posture.

Some were unconscious, their chests caved in and blood trickling from their mouths; some were clutching their severed arms and legs, rolling on the ground and howling in agony; some were already lifeless, their eyes wide open, dying with their eyes still open; and some were frozen into ice sculptures, still in a charging posture, their faces frozen with a crazed expression.

Blood stained the bluestone path, flowing slowly like a winding, scarlet stream under the moonlight, seeping into the cracks of the stone slabs and staining the moss red. The air was filled with a strong stench of blood, mixed with the smells of sweat, dust, and the chilling scent of frost, creating a nauseating and eerie odor.

Wang Ai sat in the armchair, watching this scene. His face grew paler and paler, as white as paper, as white as a ghost. His hand, gripping his cane, trembled more and more violently, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, and his knuckles turning white from the force.

He brought over a hundred people, including many skilled individuals: more than thirty members of the Wang family at the Qi Refining stage, a dozen fearless assassins, and fifty or sixty servants who, though not highly skilled, outnumbered him. Such a lineup was enough to sweep away a small sect and make most extraordinary individuals flee in terror.

But in front of Nie Lingfeng, these people were like wheat, being harvested one crop after another.

"How is this possible... how is this possible..." Wang Ai muttered to herself, her eyes unfocused, as if she had lost her bearings. "He's only in his early twenties... even if he started practicing martial arts from the womb, it's impossible for him to be this strong... Wind God Leg, Cloud Dispelling Palm, Heavenly Frost Fist... he's mastered all three martial arts to this level... and that strange flame... what kind of monster is this..."

Just then, Nie Lingfeng kicked away the last assassin who rushed at him—the assassin's chest caved in, and he spat out a mouthful of black blood mixed with fragments of internal organs while in mid-air. After landing, he twitched twice and then lay still.

Nie Lingfeng turned around, looked at Wang Ai on the armchair, grinned, revealing two rows of neat white teeth.

"Old Master Wang," he began, his voice languid, as if he'd just finished warming up, "your men... aren't very capable. Anyone else who can fight? Let's all come at me together, saves me the trouble of dealing with them one by one. Look, it's the middle of the night; I still need to go back to sleep after this."

These words were like a resounding slap across Wang Ai's face.

He suddenly looked up, staring intently at Nie Lingfeng, his eyes bloodshot, like a crimson net, almost bursting from their sockets. The muscles in his face were contorted with extreme anger and humiliation, the wrinkles as deep as if carved by a knife, his mouth twitching, and his teeth grinding together.

"Nie Lingfeng!!!" he roared, his voice as mournful as a crow being strangled, echoing in the night sky, "You've gone too far!!!!"

"Too much!" Nie Lingfeng laughed, a cold laugh as cold as ice in the dead of winter. "When your Wang family was hunting me down, why didn't you say it was too much? When your Wang family captured Chen Duo, intending to refine her into a Gu poison, why didn't you say it was too much? Relying on your status as one of the Ten Elders, how many heinous things has your Wang family done over the years, forcing countless families to be destroyed and dying? Why didn't you say it was too much then?"

He paused, then took three steps forward, each step landing on the bluestone slab with a dull thud, like the beating of war drums, like the approaching footsteps of death.

"Wang Ai, I'll tell you today—"

His voice suddenly rose, like a thunderclap, exploding in the night sky, echoing in the ears of everyone still standing:

"Those who kill will be killed by man. Those who do evil will be punished by Heaven. Your Wang family has committed countless evils, too numerous to count! You have bullied others with your power and treated human life as worthless! You have colluded with evil sects and wreaked havoc in the world of extraordinary beings! Now, your fate has run its course, and retribution has come!"

He reached out, pointed at Wang Ai, and spoke slowly and deliberately, each word like a steel nail hammered into Wang Ai's heart:

"Today, I've come—to act on behalf of Heaven!"

"Acting on behalf of Heaven? Hahaha! Hahaha!" Wang Ai laughed wildly, his laughter shrill and chilling, like the wailing of a night owl or the howling of a demon, echoing through the night sky and sending shivers down one's spine. "So this is what you call acting on behalf of Heaven! Nie Lingfeng, you think you've won? You think my Wang family's centuries of heritage is reduced to this?!"

He suddenly stood up!

The hem of his purple-gold Tang suit fluttered in the night wind, and his black cloak billowed in the breeze. He raised his dragon-headed cane, its tip pointing to the sky, to the moon stained with blood-red killing intent, and with all his might, he roared in a hoarse voice:

"Ancestors of the Wang family above! Your unworthy descendant, Wang Ai, today offers his blood as a sacrifice, and his life as a offering—"

His voice suddenly rose, becoming shrill, harsh, and frantic:

"Please, Divine Coating Array!!!"

"Buzz—!!!"

The entire Wangjia Village was suddenly shaken!

It wasn't an earthquake, nor an explosion; it was a dull, terrifying tremor that seemed to emanate from the depths of the earth, from the foundations of buildings, from every inch of the land! It was as if some colossal creature, dormant for thousands of years, was slowly awakening!

Centered on the ancestral hall, the previously faint white light curtain suddenly lit up!

It wasn't the hazy light from before; it was a blinding, stark white light, like a flashlight, bursting forth in the night sky like a miniature sun! The light curtain instantly transformed from translucent to solid, its thickness increasing from a few inches to several feet. The light was so intense that it illuminated the entire night sky, eclipsing even the moon and stars!

Within the light screen, the ink surged wildly!

It was as if countless buckets of ink were poured into the light screen, instantly spreading out! The ink wasn't static, it was dynamic—it tumbled, spun, flowed, and transformed within the light screen, like countless ink dragons roaring, howling, and churning the seas within it!

The darkness spread rapidly, covering the entire village in the blink of an eye, even enveloping the archway!

The sky has changed.

The moon disappeared, the stars disappeared, even the clouds vanished. In their place lay a pure, profound darkness, seemingly capable of swallowing everything. Within the darkness, the ethereal silhouettes of ink-colored mountains, rivers, flowers, birds, and figures slowly emerged, like a vast, three-dimensional, living ink painting unfolding gently in the night sky.

The mountains are dark in color, majestic and precipitous, shrouded in clouds and mist.

The water was ink-black, meandering and rippling.

The tree was dark in color, its branches and leaves swaying and rustling.

The flowers are dark in color, blooming and withering in an endless cycle.

The bird is black, soaring with outstretched wings, its cry mournful.

The person was black, holding swords and knives, with an indistinct face.

The entire ink painting covered the sky for miles around, enveloping Nie Lingfeng, Chen Duo, Wang Ai, and everyone else still standing.

The air has changed too.

It became viscous and heavy, like sinking into a swamp or into the deep sea. Every movement of a finger, every breath, required several times the effort. The air was filled with a strong smell of ink—not the elegant smell of ink in a bookstore, but a nauseating stench of ink mixed with the stench of blood, decay, and coldness.

The temperature dropped sharply.

The sweltering heat of a summer night instantly plummeted to below freezing, or even lower. Exhaled breath immediately turned into white mist, thick frost condensed on the ground, and the leaves of the locust trees along the roadside withered, froze, and turned into black powder that drifted away at a visible speed.

Even more terrifying, those ink-wash phantoms, as if they were alive, slowly moved and adjusted their direction, closing in on Nie Lingfeng and Chen Duo's location.

The dark mountain slowly pressed down. Although it was just a phantom, its immense weight and imposing force had already descended, making it hard to breathe.

The inky water slowly flowed over, thick as glue, corroding everything, even the bluestone slabs were hissing, and traces of corrosion appeared on the surface.

The dark-colored flowers, birds, insects, fish, figures, and beasts all came to life, roaring and howling, baring their fangs and claws, and lunging at Nie Lingfeng!

The entire world seemed to have transformed into a vast, living, and murderous ink painting.

Nie Lingfeng and Chen Duo are, in the painting,... lambs to the slaughter.