Chapter 431 - Waylaid (1/2)
Hei Teng and Kong Tengfei made short work of the horde of thirty-or-so Mustelids.
No more of their kind remained on Nether Mountain.
The surviving pair of Lycans were naturally thankful for Hei Teng and Kong Tengfei’s help.
The two Ninth-grade Beast Lords helped to heal the Lycans and brought them to Wu Kejin and spoke on their behalf.
The news about how the Mustelids had almost massacred the Lycans to the last wolf shocked everyone.
Wu Kejin was hardly amused. He had been very clear: the alliance should focus on dealing with Chu Xun first.
“Filthy weasels,” thought Wu Kejin quietly. “I gave you an inch and you want a mile. You must think I can be bullied.”
“Huang Sheng, show yourself!”
Wu Kejin bellowed, using his magic that his voice thundered all across the vicinity of Nether Mountain.
Minutes passed and nothing came. Huang Sheng was nowhere in sight.
Wu Kejin’s face turned darker and he set off with Hei Teng and the rest of the Lost Races champions accompanying him to the Mustelid encampment.
But the encampment was utterly deserted.
“I think Huang Sheng and the weasels’ Tenth Elder have long fled,” observed Kong Tengfei.
Wu Kejin immediately summoned the guards that watched the path leading to the cluster of encampments who vouched that Huang Sheng had not left.
“Search the place. He must still be here and I want him found!”
Wu Kejin barked the order and the Lost Races rushed to see it done.
A couple of hours passed and the mutants scoured every fen and leaf and nearly flipped all of Nether Mountain upside down in their frantic hunt for Huang Sheng and still, they could not find him.
Wu Kejin boiled in anger. Again and again, the Mustelids had disobeyed his orders and the disrespect was corroding his authority.
The first light of morning was showing in the horizons.
Wu Kejin kept his anger restrained. To Hei Teng and the others, he hissed, “Go. Carry out the deed as planned. We’ll deal with the Mustelids when this is done. I’ll pay a visit to their stronghold myself.”
The final sentence sent a chill running down the backs of everyone who heard it. “The Mustelids are doomed,” some thought dismally, Wu Kejin is really angry this time.
“At once, Mr. Wu. We’ll be on our way then.
Hei Teng and the others took their leaves and went off.
Wu Kejin nodded. “Go quickly before the sun is up. We don’t want anyone seeing you leave.”
The champions all sped away hastily.
The party of four – made up of the best champions from the Peacock race, the Zombies, the Draconians, and the Wingeds apiece – set off together under the cover of twilight, heading straight for Gujiang.
There should have been six of them, but only four remained now of the finest champions the Lost Races could marshal now.
All four of them were Ninth-grade Beast Lords and in mere seconds, they passed out of the bog area encircling Nether Mountain.
Once they stepped on solid ground, they found a stranger barring their way.
Chu Xun spun around and looked at them coldly.
Chu Xun turned around and looked at them coldly.
“Mustelid. It really is you,” Kong Tengfei smirked.
Chu Xun was still wearing the disguise of the Mustelid Tenth Elder.
“Where’s Huang Sheng? Where are you, Huang Sheng? Show yourself!” Hei Teng bellowed loudly as he looked left and right, thinking that Huang Sheng was just hiding nearby.
“He’s far ahead of you guys.” Chu Xun sneered. Little did the mutants realize he was insinuating that Huang Sheng was already dead.
“You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you, Mustelid. You dare show yourself here, after what you’ve done?” The Ninth Presbyter of the Winged race grinned wicked. “I would have long fled if I were you.”
“Why should I flee?”
“For massacring the Lycans and direct disobedience to Master Wu’s orders. That is enough to scare the living daylights out of you all.”
“Enough prattle! We’re wasting time bandying words when we should take him back to Mr. Wu!” Kong Tengfei hissed and lunged.
The mighty Kong Tengfei threw himself at Chu Xun, his entire self bursting with rainbows of light as his fist morphed into a razor-sharp talon.
Chu Xun’s lips curled as he clenched his fist. A soft and supple purplish glow shone around it and he punched hard at the talon swiping at him.
Crack!
The sickening crack of splintering bones rang through the air with warm, fresh blood spraying like a fountain.
With an agonizing howl, Kong Tengfei withdrew with a chalk-white face; his talon-hand was utterly mangled and bloodied.
Chu Xun chuckled and conjured another spell using his mind.
The Demon-slaughtering Palm!
A gigantic hand appeared high overhead, then the huge purplish mass came down with the force, speed, and intensity of a lightning bolt, engulfing Kong Tengfei in a terrible explosion.
Rumble!
The ground shook so badly that the ring of summits around them seemed to reel and lurch as wild, choppy winds lashed furiously like a storm. A terrible crack elongated on the ground as the tremors went on.
By the time the dust settled, the faces of Hei Teng and his companions writhed with despair as the pupils of their eyes constricted with shock.
What was left of Kong Tengfei was only one half of his body; the other half was either driven deep underground or completely squashed into pulp.
The blow just now had shattered virtually every piece of bone inside him.
They could not believe their eyes; with one blow, a Ninth-grade Beast Lord was soundly defeated.
Whoosh!
Cloaked in a glow of purplish lights, Chu Xun lunged at the remaining three mutants.
“Together!”
Hei Teng barked at his companions as he summoned his powers. A dark smog of fumes engulfed him and a dark voluminous shadow loomed behind him and it slithered at Chu Xun with unbelievable agility.
Chu Xun needed only one hand to quickly perform hand seals.
Rumble!
The ashen-pale Winged quickly activated his fan and it burst with sparkling radiance.
Rumble!
The huge column smashed into the black serpent, reducing it into nothing but bloody scraps.
With a painful grunt, Hei Teng collapsed with blood trickling out of his mouth.
The Ninth Presbyter of the Winged race flapped his wings and leaped into the air despite his shock and a golden-feathered fan shimmered into existence in his grasp.
Bang!
Chu Xun stomped and launched himself into the air like a cannonball. In quick succession, he delivered a pair of punches, firing two energy bolts at the Winged presbyter.
The ashen-pale Winged quickly activated his fan and it burst with sparkling radiance.
Bang! Bang!
The first bolt hit the golden fan, causing the Winged to feel his hand going numb with aching soreness.
But the second blow struck on the golden-feathered fan yet again, the shock causing the arteries of the Wingeds’ hand to burst with intensive hemorrhaging and his fingers went slack and the fan fell out of his grasp.
Chu Xun waved a hand and magically summoned the fan to him which he quickly stowed away.
He could never forget how powerful it was when the cyclone this fan had conjured nearly destroyed the Fire Dragon Palace the last time the Ninth Presbyter used it.
Chu Xun could have never been any happier to relieve the Winged of such a powerful weapon.