Chapter 220: Bloodline Connection

Huang Cheng never imagined that his attack would be so easily deflected by Chen Fei!

“You…!” Huang Cheng’s eyes widened in shock as he raised a trembling finger at Chen Fei.

But Chen Fei didn’t bother wasting words. He gripped the hilt of the massive Wufeng Greatsword. “Blood Cloud Sect, huh? Looks like that dog Wang Fang never learns his lesson!”

As his voice fell, the blood pool beneath his feet exploded with a loud boom.

The Wufeng Greatsword turned into a shadow and shot toward the top of Huang Cheng’s head.

“Blood Cocoon, form!” Huang Cheng reacted instantly. With a roar, the blood on the ground surged upward around him, quickly forming a massive cocoon with streams of blood flowing on its surface.

But Chen Fei showed no hesitation. The Wufeng Greatsword continued to press down, smashing straight onto the blood cocoon.

Though the sword appeared blunt and without an edge, it carried an overwhelmingly sharp sword force. At the moment of contact, the cocoon was split in half, revealing Huang Cheng’s horrified face.

“You think you’re worthy?” Chen Fei sneered as he pressed the sword down and cleanly severed Huang Cheng’s head.

Even as his head rolled, Huang Cheng’s wide eyes stared at Chen Fei in disbelief. He opened his mouth as if trying to say something—unfortunately, no sound came.

BOOM!

The Wufeng Greatsword didn’t stop. It slammed into the ground, causing a deafening explosion. The pool of blood that had confined everyone burst apart, and the spatial field that had trapped them shattered.

A cultivator at the Yuan Realm—

Couldn’t even withstand one move from Chen Fei!

And everyone could see clearly—Chen Fei hadn’t even used his full strength!

Without giving others a chance to speak, Chen Fei turned and charged toward the room where the Cold Moon Saintess was located.

That blood flag still posed a threat.

However, by the time Chen Fei arrived, the Cold Moon Saintess had already stepped out, holding a small, shrunken blood-red flag in her hand.

“Quite a useful little toy,” she said casually, glancing at Chen Fei. “I had a brief moment of enlightenment just now. Go handle your business—no need to mind me.”

“Alright.” Chen Fei didn’t waste words.

He was a little surprised the Saintess had neutralized the blood flag so effortlessly.

Back in the grand hall, Huang Cheng’s corpse had already turned into a puddle of blood.

“As expected of a Holy Land disciple. It hasn’t even been long since we last met, and you can already slay Yuan Realm cultivators with ease,” Qin Heng remarked with some admiration.

Chen Fei smiled and waved his hand. “Just a few tricks.”

Then he turned to Elder Feng Zhou. “Seventh Elder, what do you think now?”

Feng Zhou’s expression changed slightly. He let out a long sigh and half-knelt to the ground. “Please punish me, Holy Son Chen!”

Chen Fei didn’t bother correcting the title. He waved dismissively. “I don’t want to hear a second version of what’s going on in Huangwu City. If anything goes wrong with those people, you know the consequences.”

“My appearance has already been exposed—prepare for battle!” Chen Fei said seriously.

Everyone’s heart tightened. They quickly retreated, concern etched on their faces.

Once they were gone, Chen Fei turned to Qin Heng. “Old Qin, are you afraid?”

“If it’s a battle against demonic cultivators, then what’s there to fear? If we cower, you think they’ll let us go?” Qin Heng replied with a smile.

Chen Fei nodded, then asked in a low voice, “What happened to Li Zhong that day? Any leads on those black-robed people?”

Qin Heng sighed deeply. “Brother Chen, this one’s on me! I was busy relocating civilians from Huangwu City and didn’t assign enough protection…”

Chen Fei raised a hand to stop him. “It was a crisis situation—don’t blame yourself. I’m not here to hold anyone accountable. Li Zhong’s disappearance might be connected to me.”

Qin Heng looked surprised, but nodded. “If that’s the case, then there’s one thing I remember. When Li Zhong was abducted by those black-robed people, he mentioned a location—Fengluo Temple!”

“Fengluo Temple?” Chen Fei’s eyes lit up as memories resurfaced. “I know where that is!”

Qin Heng let out a breath of relief. “If you’ve got a lead, that’s great!”

Only Chen Fei and Li Zhong knew the location. It was just a run-down temple, seemingly insignificant. Chen Fei had awakened there after first arriving in Huangwu City.

It seemed necessary to return to Huangwu City.

“How’s the situation in Huangwu City lately?” Chen Fei asked.

“Since it was taken by the Blood Cloud Sect, the place has become a ghost town. Luckily, we evacuated the people. It’s just an empty shell now. The Blood Cloud Sect will probably withdraw soon,” Qin Heng replied.

That made sense.

Demonic cultivators cared only for blood food—humans. With the city emptied, there was no reason to remain. Staying would just make them an obvious target for the Holy Lands.

“How’s Guan Tong doing?” Chen Fei asked after some thought.

“Not good at all,” Qin Heng’s expression turned grim.

Though calling the ancestor Qin Ling by name would usually be seen as rude, Guan Tong was merely a disgraced, registered disciple of the Holy Land. Not even a direct disciple. He wouldn’t dare get angry—he might even feel flattered by the familiarity.

“Take me to see him,” Chen Fei said as he took out a jade bottle. “Old Qin, strength is the foundation. The way Feng Zhou treated you was simply because you were weaker! This is a Spirit Source Pill—it should help you break through into the Dao Realm.”

Qin Heng’s eyes widened. He rubbed his hands together. “T-this is too valuable…”

“Old Qin, the path of cultivation is ultimately a lonely one. The longer you walk it, the fewer familiar faces remain. Meeting each other is fate. Back then, your sincerity touched me. Consider this a stroke of fortune,” Chen Fei said with a smile. “Besides, Huangwu City will need you in the future. I might even return one day.”

“Alright!” Qin Heng didn’t refuse.

With demonic cultivators running rampant, strength was everything. Without it, even someone like the ancestor Qin Ling might not survive. Getting stronger was the only priority.

Under Qin Heng’s guidance, Chen Fei soon met Guan Tong.

Guan Tong looked shocked. “C-Chen… Saint Chen?”

“I’m not a Saint Son yet—just a core disciple,” Chen Fei waved and clarified. “Seems like your injuries are quite severe. This blood corrosion… troublesome indeed.”

Hearing that, a look of despair flashed in Guan Tong’s eyes. “In the end, my talent was limited. All these years, and still nothing to show for it… sigh…”

His eyes dimmed with bitterness. After so many years, his cultivation had regressed to the peak of Ninth Grade Dao Realm. This injury was worse than any before—he might not survive this one.