Chapter 277: The Black Shadow

Qian Kuan’s arms were unusually long—long enough to reach past his knees, a trait that made him appear beastlike and sinister.

He locked his sharp gaze on Chen Fei and slowly stepped forward. Without a word, he raised his hand and unleashed a sharp, chopping strike. The force behind it was thick and violent—bold and unrestrained, like a master of open, aggressive combat techniques. If one didn’t know he was a demonic cultivator, they would never associate such a commanding presence with an “evil” practitioner.

Chen Fei narrowed his eyes. He didn’t retreat. He raised his own arm and met the strike head-on.

“Pa!”

A crisp, explosive sound rang out.

Qian Kuan’s brow furrowed in shock. He hadn’t expected someone with such a lean build to possess such a powerful physical body.

Chen Fei grinned.

“Not bad! Again!”

This time in the outer world had given Chen Fei incredible growth, especially in terms of cultivation and battle experience. But he had found few chances to temper his physical body—until now.

Qian Kuan was a pleasant surprise.

Meanwhile, the captives nearby finally realized who Chen Fei was.

“It’s Chen Fei! The Holy Son of Tianqing Holy Land!”

“He helped us last time when Liu Shan chased us down. And now, again in our moment of crisis!”

“No wonder! He really lives up to his name… unlike us. We’re the ones who should be ashamed.”

Some of them couldn’t help but recall the mockery and cold remarks they made when Chen Fei walked away last time. Their faces burned with embarrassment now.

Chen Fei, however, didn’t pay them any attention. He was fully focused on his brawl with Qian Kuan.

Both of them were startled by the other’s body strength.

Qian Kuan, despite not being the most famous among Qi Realm demonic cultivators, was feared by those who knew him—especially for his brutal Iron Arm Fist, which turned his demonic energy into raw destructive power. Even spiritual weapons dared not clash with his iron arms.

But now—he’d met his match.

Chen Fei’s body was harder. Possibly even stronger.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

Chen Fei suddenly backed away with a teasing grin. But his arm trembled slightly—almost imperceptibly.

Qian Kuan scoffed.

“Not at all. What, is the Holy Son struggling?”

Chen Fei’s expression turned serious.

“Remember, a man must never say he’s weak. Let’s go again!”

Qian Kuan raised a brow at the provocation. And then Chen Fei charged.

The two collided again with thunderous intensity.

Neither side was willing to back down. Their combat was pure flesh-on-flesh, no weapons, no fancy tricks—just raw physical might.

Not that Qian Kuan had no choice. It was simply that none of his other techniques were effective against Chen Fei’s monstrous physique.

The fight became a swirling storm of black shadows—too fast for the eye to follow. Only the sound of bone-cracking collisions filled the air, getting more frequent and louder with each passing moment.

After thirty or so brutal exchanges, the two separated once more.

Chen Fei took a deep breath.

It hurt. Damn, it hurt.

Body refinement was notorious for being painful—essentially self-inflicted torture in pursuit of strength.

Across from him, Qian Kuan was also gasping. Both were evenly matched physically, and that alone shocked the veteran demonic cultivator.

Body cultivation wasn’t like realm cultivation. Even a cultivator who reached Earth Realm might have a body as weak as paper compared to a true physical cultivator.

But Chen Fei?

Young as he was, his physical strength rivaled or even surpassed Qian Kuan’s. It didn’t make sense.

“Again!”

Chen Fei roared and flexed his sore arms. Then, like a wild beast, he lunged once more.

Qian Kuan hesitated—not from fear, but from pain. His arms felt like they weren’t even attached to his body anymore.

But could he refuse?

No. He couldn’t.

“Don’t think you’ve already won, Chen Fei!”

Qian Kuan growled as he stepped forward to meet him again.

Elsewhere…

Leng Yue, her rage like a tidal wave, launched herself at the Peach Blossom Enchantress.

Dozens of razor-sharp ice spears hovered in the air, striking the moment the Enchantress revealed even a sliver of her position.

The chilling aura was enough to freeze the bones—and it even made the Enchantress feel genuine fear.

“Leng Yue, must you be so angry? Was the man I arranged for you really that unsatisfactory?”

The Enchantress laughed, her voice honeyed and mocking.

Leng Yue knew exactly what she was doing—trying to throw her off balance through provocation.

Before, in her Iceheart state, such tricks would have failed.

But now, her heart was in turmoil—and she welcomed it.

Because she had finally found the key to her next breakthrough.

“Witch! Today is the day you die! Cold Moon, come forth!”

Leng Yue’s fury reached its peak.

Behind her, a dark blue orb materialized.

And in that moment, her entire aura changed.

She now radiated the majesty of a sovereign—the kind of woman who commanded the heavens themselves.

“You think you’re the only one with tricks? Peach Blossom Alley!”

The Enchantress shouted in response.

Behind her appeared an ancient alley, complete with weathered walls and blooming peach blossoms peeking over the tops.

Leng Yue raised her hand and summoned a blade of pure frost, its curve matching her palm perfectly.

“Die!”

She swung. The air ripped apart with her strike, aiming to carve open the alley and force the Enchantress out.

“Leng Yue… I didn’t expect you to reach this level. What a surprise.

Is this how you thank someone who once helped you?”

Leng Yue didn’t reply. Her eyes had turned icy blue, and she now exuded an aura of unmatched nobility.

“Witch, you’re not getting away!”

Her voice was like steel. Another slice.

The Enchantress’s tone finally shifted.

“Damn it! How did you know I was here?!”

“If I said I guessed… would you believe me?”

Leng Yue’s deadpan joke made the Enchantress freeze in shock.

This icy woman—joking?

That moment of hesitation cost her.

Leng Yue had already locked onto her position.

The frostblade, empowered by Cold Moon’s divine chill, closed in.

Just then—

a dark figure appeared near the center of Soul-Crushing Slope…

Right before the blood-red command flag.

The crowd gasped as one:

“How dare you?!”