An overwhelming aura surged from one direction, yet it bore down as though from all sides — a force of encirclement that even Qiushui Fuyan could not withstand. In an instant, her body was sealed by that oppressive power.
"A third-grade Martial King?" Qiushui Fuyan's willow brows knitted tightly together, alarm flooding her eyes. She could discern her opponent's strength through their aura — a third-grade Martial King was a being far beyond her ability to handle.
As for the Ethereal Fairy, she had already fallen unconscious, her aura growing weaker by the moment. Whether she would live or die was uncertain, and it was impossible to count on her to fight again.
"I was careless. I never imagined that Murong Mingtian had already predicted we would flee in this direction. He must have known there was an ancient teleportation formation here."
"Sigh… could it be that the heavens themselves have decided to cut off our path?"
At that moment, Qiushui Fuyan had stopped fleeing — because she no longer had the strength to escape. She knew there was no way out. Helplessness and despair etched themselves across her stunning face.
As for Chu Feng, he could only stand at Qiushui Fuyan's side. If even she felt the crushing pressure, his own would naturally be all the greater.
"Chu Feng, do you know who I am?"
At last, amid the rolling waves of oppressive might, the figure of an elder materialized. His hair was jet-black, his face contorted with fury, and a pair of rage-wreathed eyes fixed upon Chu Feng with a gaze that longed to drink his blood and devour his flesh.
Upon seeing the man's face, Chu Feng's brows furrowed slightly — for both the man's cultivation and his appearance revealed his true identity. And so he spoke with perfect calm: "You are Zhan Feng's father — the Second Immortal of the Immortal Slaying Archipelago, Zhan Jiuxiao."
"If you know who I am, then kneel!" Zhan Jiuxiao roared.
"Kneel? And if I kneel, will you let us go?" Chu Feng countered with a cold sneer.
"Let you go? Even if you kowtowed ten thousand times, you could never bring my son back to life! I will never let you go — I will flay your skin and rip out your tendons, for nothing less will quench the hatred in my heart!" Zhan Jiuxiao spoke through gritted teeth.
"What? Zhan Feng is dead?" This was unexpected.
Back in the Sin Canyon, Chu Feng had indeed crippled Zhan Feng — but he had not killed him. And as far as he knew, after Zhan Feng was crippled, the experts of the Immortal Slaying Archipelago had taken him directly back home. He had long since left the Sin Canyon and should not have been caught up in the subsequent battle. He should not have died.
"You crippled my son! He was too ashamed to live, so he took his own life at home — and all of it was because of you! You killed him! Kneel before me!" Zhan Jiuxiao's fury blazed even hotter as he revealed the cause of Zhan Feng's death.
"Heh. Zhan Feng was crippled because his skills were inferior — that was his own failing. He was too ashamed to live and killed himself at home — and what does that have to do with me?"
"Besides, whether I kneel or not, you're going to torture me either way. So why should I kneel?" Chu Feng smiled coldly, regarding the man as though he were a fool.
"You will kneel! And you're not kneeling to me — you're kneeling to my son!" Zhan Jiuxiao swept his sleeve, and a wooden tablet — one foot wide and three feet long — appeared in his hand.
It was a spirit tablet, inscribed with a name: Zhan Feng, the very man Chu Feng had crippled in the Sin Canyon.
"He is not worthy of my kneeling. And neither are you," Chu Feng said flatly.
"You have no room to bargain." But before anyone expected it, Zhan Jiuxiao let out a cold snort, and an overwhelming wave of pressure descended from the heavens.