Chapter 49 – Sudden Attack and Severe Injury

The two were suspended in mid-air when they suddenly felt a chill down their spines and sensed the cold gleam of hidden weapons. Feng Xuanyang held Long Qinghan in his arms, unable to move freely or counterattack. Long Qinghan, who could still move, froze for a moment before quickly turning his palm to gather his power. Using all ten layers of his strength, he transformed the moisture in the air into ice spikes and scattered them in all directions.

Several metallic clangs rang out as the incoming projectiles were knocked down. However, the danger hadn’t ceased—after one wave of attacks, another wave of hidden weapons came relentlessly. Cold flashes of steel shot toward them from all sides.

Feng Xuanyang, still holding Long Qinghan, touched down with his toes to steady himself. He spun in a circle, gathering his inner strength and using his body as an arc to create a whirlwind of protective energy that swept away the attacking weapons.

But their enemies remained hidden in the shadows, concealed so deeply that no figures could be seen. In such a perilous situation, it was even harder for Feng and Long to detect their opponents’ positions. Seeing the endless stream of weapons coming at them, Long Qinghan’s eyes sharpened with resolve. The Youze Sword immediately left its sheath, accompanied by cold ice spikes as it struck down the projectiles. Feng Xuanyang quickly turned around, pressing his back against Long Qinghan’s. His Chifeng Sword emerged with a phoenix cry, carrying fierce fire and wind to strike at the incoming weapons.

When one wave stopped, there was always a brief pause before another began. In that fleeting moment, they moved—one forward, one back, heading in opposite directions. Using their bodies as arcs, they spun and attacked, carrying hard energy strikes toward their hidden enemies.

However, just then, several silver flashes appeared. Looking closely with bated breath, they saw what appeared to be almost invisible threads woven between the trees on both sides, forming a giant web. Long Qinghan stopped abruptly, twisted his body, and barely avoided a thread blocking his path. He then touched down with his toes and retreated slightly to avoid offering his throat to the sharp wire.

But as soon as he stepped back, he felt a cold wind at his spine. With the slightest touch, he felt his back contact another thread. The wire was so sharp it cut through his clothes—if he hadn’t stopped quickly, his skin would have been bleeding within moments.

His face turned cold as he stood straight without moving, because he couldn’t move! There was a thread at his throat in front and another at his back. These wires were so sharp they would draw blood at the slightest touch—they were the infamous killing weapon known as “Silver Strangler.”

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Fwnb rlaqlnv nssaekdyvksd pwttlpvle vblu olal vsr-vkla yppyppkdp. Mbkp cyvvzl oswze cl ekqqknwzv vs okd.

“Dwyduydt, bso yal usw?” Nsdt Ckdtbyd casjl vbaswtb vbl pkzhla vbalyep okvb bkp ryzx yde prsjl nszezu.

“Txrb, vblpl zkvvzl vsup oydv vs pvsr xl? Ebyv y fsjl,” Wldt Dwyduydt zywtble. Mbswtb bkp vsdl oyp yp alzymle yp wpwyz, Nsdt Ckdtbyd nswze pldpl bkp vldpksd.

“Ps usw byhl ydu tsse kelyp?” Nsdt Ckdtbyd xshle bkp Zswgl Fosae yde qswde kv pvkzz kxxsckzl. Tkp lulp byaeldle, nshlale okvb zyulap sq knl—vbkp knu nszedlpp oyp y pktd bl oyp ycswv vs clnsxl vawzu ydtau.

“Heh, what if I said I had no solution?” came the helpless reply from nearby.

“Oh, is that so,” Long Qinghan lowered his head slightly, his downcast eyes showing no expression. But after a cold laugh, when he raised his head again, his eyes shot out cold, fierce light. “Then let’s fight to the death!”

“Good!”

With those words, the situation changed dramatically.

A fierce shout escaped from Long Qinghan’s mouth. With his body as the center, layers of ice formed on the ground and spread outward from around him. Ice gradually condensed on his sword, following the silver threads wrapped around the blade and rapidly freezing toward their source.

In moments, the sound of someone falling to the ground rang out. The silver threads loosened—the hidden puppet master had been severely injured by the ice and died.

The world dimmed, and the moon hidden in clouds slowly emerged from the white layers. Instantly, silver light poured onto the ground, illuminating every silver thread. The moisture in the air gradually condensed, and everything around Long Qinghan began to frost over.

A cold smile curved Feng Xuanyang’s lips as he saw the silver threads covered with a layer of ice, making the previously invisible threads clearly visible and no longer sharp enough to cut throats. The assassins, knowing their advantage was lost, immediately all attacked together, wielding cold blades and swords.

This was exactly what Feng Xuanyang had been waiting for. He slashed with his Chifeng Sword, instantly carrying powerful energy toward several people charging at the front. Several cries of pain rang out, blood splattered across the icy threads, and they all fell to the ground.

He smiled coldly, turned his head to meet Long Qinghan’s gaze, then with several swift sword strikes, together with Long Qinghan, quickly cut down several more enemies.

“Clang”—the sword’s silver light made a sharp sound. Long Qinghan shook the blood from his sword, his cold eyes glinting with icy light. He turned and struck with his sword, quickly cutting through the frozen threads while condensing his palm energy and wielding his sword to attack the assassins, retreating toward Feng Xuanyang.

Soon, they were back to back, fighting together against their enemies.

Feng Xuanyang immediately activated his “Nether Yang Skill.” A powerful suction vortex spiraled out from around his body, pulling at the assassins.

The assassins’ attacks gradually became obstructed, their offensive weakened by the suction force. Some close-range sword and blade attacks were immediately killed by Long Qinghan’s sword as soon as they reached Feng Xuanyang’s side. Long-range soul hooks and hidden weapons were sucked into the Nether Yang Skill’s vortex and instead flew back toward the assassins themselves.

Feng and Long worked together seamlessly. Without the advantage of the silver threads, the assassins couldn’t overcome them for a while.

Seeing fewer and fewer enemies, Long Qinghan and Feng Xuanyang exchanged glances, preparing for a decisive strike.

The last few assassins looked at each other and suddenly leaped backward. Just as Feng and Long were puzzled, two black shadows tore through the sky, and two soul-reaping iron claws emerged from the darkness, attacking toward their heads.

Feng Xuanyang laughed coldly, swinging his sword upward to strike away the iron claw. Long Qinghan did the same.

But then, an accident happened—

When Feng Xuanyang’s burning sword energy struck the iron claw, it created sparks from the friction. A faint “hissing” sound immediately rang out. Feng Xuanyang froze, instantly focusing his gaze carefully. At first glance, his heart stopped beating—there was a small explosive device attached to the iron claw!

“Qinghan—”

In that instant, Feng Xuanyang felt his breath stop.

He turned and embraced the person his heart longed for, leaping forward as a tremendous “boom” exploded quickly in his ears. Fire filled the sky, illuminating the heavens.

“Xuanyang!”

When Long Qinghan came to his senses, he only felt a heavy weight on his back, weak breathing on his ear, and drops of blood flowing from that burning body.

Smoke filled the air, the explosion’s roar still echoing in his ears, but all he could hear was the sound of his heart breaking.

He turned over and held the red-clothed man. Feng Xuanyang’s tragic smile at the corner of his mouth stabbed at his eyes, and that sheet of blood red on his back made his heart feel as if it were being slowly cut by a thousand dull knives, blood flowing like a river.

“Heh heh heh, ha ha ha ha, fool, fool… you’re a fool!” His furious roar echoed through heaven and earth, tearing through the sky. Cold, harsh light flashed as extremely cold sword energy pierced the air, attacking the enemies.

In just a moment, the cold sound of a sword returning to its sheath rang out. A pair of blood-red eyes reflected on the cold blade, gleaming with bloodthirsty fierce light, ice-cold and silent. The flying hem of his robe gradually settled. When the last cold gleam disappeared into the sheath, several thuds immediately sounded as all the assassins who had rushed forward fell to the ground with blood slowly flowing from their necks onto the ice layer, gradually melting and staining the area with blood.

Long Qinghan gripped the sword in his hand and coldly walked to the red-clothed man lying on the ground. He gently lifted him and channeled his energy to help him breathe.

Feng Xuanyang coughed up blood several times, staring blankly at Long Qinghan. He smiled coldly and with trembling hands covered those blood-red eyes, gently closing them. When he released his hands and opened his eyes, Long Qinghan’s eyes had returned to their usual blue.

“I never expected that because of the heart-connecting poison, you, like me, became a demon,” Feng Xuanyang said with a forced smile, caressing Long Qinghan’s face, full of heartache and bitterness.

“For you, what does it matter to become a demon,” Long Qinghan gently placed a kiss on those blood-stained lips, tasting the bitter, bloody flavor.

A tear fell from his calm, water-like eyes onto his dust-covered face, washing away the dust and moistening his heart.

Feng Xuanyang, in this life, besides you, who else is worth my such deep love.

Through two lifetimes, I owe you two lives that I can never repay. I can only spend eternity together with you, never to be separated in this life.