C17 Life and Death Line

After departing from the inn, the trio boarded the carriage, ready to set off. Hidden in the shadows, a pair of eyes closely watched Qin Feng and his companions. As they were about to depart, the observer signaled with a wave of his hand, prompting a group to tail them.

"Roar~"

Aming, still groggy atop the carriage, sat cross-legged with his eyes half-closed. Qin Feng, feeling somewhat bored, slumped down beside him.

Before Qin Feng had a chance to gather his thoughts, a mechanical voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

"Host, be cautious. A group of unidentified individuals is trailing the carriage, and each possesses Saint-level Profound Cultivation."

Qin Feng's brow furrowed in concern, puzzled by the identities of these people and their reasons for following them.

Upon entering the western woods of Sanskrit Sound City, a cold sensation crept up Qin Feng's spine.

"Whoosh!" Three icy arrows whizzed through the air, piercing the carriage's wooden frame. Qin Feng narrowly evaded them.

Aming's eyes snapped open as he caught an arrow whistling past his face, his gaze turning wary.

"Young Master! Qin Feng! Are you both unharmed?" Fu Ye, sensing trouble, hastened the coachman and called out to the rear carriage.

"We're unscathed!" Qin Feng replied, poking his head out to Fu Ye on the leading carriage. He quickly spotted another volley of arrows and ducked back inside, narrowly avoiding the onslaught.

"What's happening?" Qin Feng inquired.

"I'm not sure..." Aming appeared to hold the answer but seemed reluctant to elaborate.

Just then, a massive sword cleaved through the carriage roof, splitting it asunder. Qin Feng swiftly grabbed Little Flowing Blade by the neck and leaped to safety.

Aming wasn't as fortunate. Though he managed to evade the strike, a shallow cut on his shoulder stained his garment red.

The masked swordsman, fixated on Aming, ignored Qin Feng and swung his blade again. Aming's gaze turned steely as he deflected the sword with a kick and closed in on his assailant, delivering a forceful elbow to the man's face, eliciting a sharp cry of pain.

Qin Feng set aside the Little Flowing Blade and conjured the Glazed Night Sword to join the fray.

Aming's expression turned to one of sheer disbelief upon witnessing Qin Feng summon the Glazed Night Sword. Yet, with the enemy before him, he had no time for distraction and engaged in combat.

Before Qin Feng could approach the masked man wielding the large sword, he was intercepted by a group of burly men who appeared out of nowhere. Each was armed with a spiritual weapon that seemed of superior quality, and they launched a joint attack on Qin Feng.

Clutching the Glazed Night Sword firmly, Qin Feng swung it, shattering an opponent's spiritual weapon. The sword appeared to grow more responsive with each use, and Qin Feng fluidly executed the sword techniques he had mastered in his sect.

Somehow, the number of adversaries kept increasing.

Qin Feng's thoughts turned to Fu Ye. He glanced towards Fu Ye's carriage, finding it empty. Looking back, he saw Fu Ye, who had seemed just a simple merchant, wielding a staff-shaped spiritual artifact, valiantly combating the black-clad, masked assailants.

Qin Feng exhaled deeply. It was a stark reminder that appearances can be deceiving; the seemingly feeble Fu Ye also possessed a formidable side.

Despite wielding the mighty Devil Artifact, the Glazed Night Sword, Qin Feng, who was merely at the Second Level of the Common Rank, soon found himself at a disadvantage.

"Cough, cough!"

Qin Ye was struck in the chest with a hammer, sending him flying over ten meters. The blow was powerful enough to make his insides quake, nearly causing internal bleeding.

Fu Ye's vigor seemed to grow with the battle, his long staff sweeping through the air, disarming several adversaries. Aming, with Profound Power at his command, swiftly drove back a line of foes.

A chilling wolf howl pierced the air.

Out of nowhere, a massive wolf with fur as dark as swirling mist and a fearsome scar across its face leapt into view. Its black eyes glinted with malice, signaling a formidable challenge.

"Nether Wolf, Level Eight Demonic Power... Host, rest assured, I'll take care of your final arrangements..." the system declared with grave sincerity.

With the Nether Wolf's intervention, the masked assailants in black ceased their assault and retreated a few steps. Their eyes curved slightly—a clear sign of amusement. They seemed content to watch the Nether Wolf tear Qin Feng and his companions to shreds.

The trio was now completely encircled, with no one daring to act hastily. Provoking a Devil Beast of this caliber could mean certain death for all of them.

Surveying the dire circumstances, Qin Feng paused only briefly before taunting the Nether Wolf with a sneer, "Come on, little wolf! If you're so tough, try chasing me!"

"Qin Feng! Don't you dare..." Fu Ye exclaimed in alarm.

Aming, whose expression had been rigid with tension, suddenly looked aghast. "Qin Feng, what are you thinking?!"

The Nether Wolf snarled, revealing its sharp, blood-stained teeth, clearly enraged by Qin Feng's provocation. It lunged at him without hesitation.

Qin Feng leapt into action, dodging the beast and sprinting toward the other side of the woods. Before dashing off, he gestured to Fu Ye and Aming, signaling them to take down the masked men while he drew the wolf away.

Fu Ye tried to shout after Qin Feng, but he was already too far gone.

As Qin Feng's run took him halfway to safety, his pace slowed, and he eyed the nearby cliff with growing panic. He wondered if Fu Ye and Aming had managed to defeat the masked men. And whether the Nether Wolf was still on his heels—if it was, his life hung by a thread.

Suddenly, a chilling howl pierced the silence, sending a shiver down Qin Feng's spine.

The howl was ominously close.

Turning slowly, Qin Feng's gaze fell upon the horrific scar and the menacing face of the Nether Wolf, mere inches from his own.

Swallowing hard, he inched backward until there was nowhere left to go.

With the Glazed Night Sword raised defensively before him, Qin Feng braced for the Nether Wolf's attack, ready to fight for his life.

The Nether Wolf, wary of the Devil Artifact, hesitated but then charged with a ferocious snarl, its teeth clattering as if it intended to grind Qin Feng into dust.

The Devil Artifact was indeed exceptional, but its master wasn't necessarily its equal. At a mere Common Rank Second Level, he was no match for the Nether Wolf.

Was he destined to meet his end here today?

Qin Feng instinctively glanced over his shoulder at the cliff. True to his fears, it was a sheer drop into the abyss, shrouded in endless white fog. A fall would certainly mean being shattered to bits.