Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Fierce Battle Against the Two Venom Saints of Qidu

Immortal Cliff Seal 2935 words 2026-04-11 13:14:17

The Festival of the Sacred Steed was in full swing, ablaze with excitement. This grand celebration would last three days, each filled with wrestling, lassoing, and mounted archery contests. At night, bonfires blazed, crowds danced wildly, feasting on roasted lamb and drinking mare’s milk wine, singing and reveling without restraint.

Yet outside these lively scenes, Bamboo Retreat Manor lay in eerie silence. Xia Baizhu and his daughter kept their doors shut, with only a handful of guards on duty. In the practice yard, Ye Ziyin and the others trained relentlessly; Lin Feng and Nie Xuan sat in quiet meditation within their rooms, cultivating their energy; Wu Zhuai practiced under the moon outside. Each kept to themselves, and as night descended, the estate grew ever more ominous.

Some dozens of miles away, at the foot of a mountain, two figures exchanged glances, their eyes sharp with resolve. They nodded in unison, then soared upward like great hawks, speeding straight toward Bamboo Retreat Manor.

Behind them, a swarm of venomous insects and midges poured from an ancient tomb, rushing towards the estate.

“Brother, my eyelids have been twitching all night—do you think something bad’s about to happen?” Wu Zhuai sent a message from outside to Lin Feng. Through nightly training, his spiritual power had grown considerably.

Rising from his cultivation, Lin Feng smiled, “Have you been staring at the moon too long? Perhaps it’s just your eyes playing tricks. Come, let’s take a stroll around the practice yard and check on Ziyin and the others.”

The two walked side by side—Lin Feng with his sword at his waist and a pear-blossom spear in hand—his vigilance heightened. Tree shadows danced, distant lanterns flickered in the wind, and the manor’s silence was strangely unnatural.

“Something’s wrong!” Lin Feng suddenly realized—the absence of insect sounds spelled doom.

No sooner had he spoken than a horrific scream echoed from the front courtyard, followed by the dull thud of heavy bodies hitting the ground, and the screams persisted.

“Poison…” a guard called out, but his words were cut short.

Bang! Nie Xuan burst through the door, standing at Lin Feng’s side. In the distance, Xia Baizhu and his daughter darted out, brandishing staff and sword, Ye Ziyin and Zuo Qingcheng rushed over, faces pale with fright as everyone gathered together.

“Heh heh heh… Old Eight, you’ve made us search long and hard for you,” a strange, owl-like laughter drifted above, filling every corner of the manor.

“Qi, the Poison Saints! You arrived faster than I thought,” Nie Xuan’s expression remained calm, as if he had long anticipated this day.

“Ha! Junior Brother, you killed Old Fourth—how could Master ever forgive you? If you don’t want everyone here to die, come with us quietly and spare me the trouble,” another voice called from above, landing nearby—a figure in a sweeping black robe, bat-like under the moonlight, his face ghostly pale.

“Qi Bat, after all these years, your skills seem stagnant—and your memory too,” Nie Xuan sneered, “Since you’ve come, leave your life behind!”

The words had barely left his mouth when Lin Feng and Nie Xuan sprang forward, spear and fist striking at Qi Fu!

Qi Fu and Qi Chan were both stronger than Nie Xuan; unless they seized the initiative and killed one first, victory was impossible.

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Qi Fu was wary, but never expected the two would coordinate so seamlessly, attacking him at once!

Lin Feng’s silver spear lunged forward, his Rain-Stealing Star-Stepping footwork launched—faster even than Nie Xuan!

“Piercing Spear!” The thrust shot out, unstoppable, its force coalescing into a gleaming spear aura half a foot long, slicing through the air with a razor’s hiss.

Qi Fu did not dodge, but his hands blurred, drawing twin blades! Blade-light swept out in a shining curtain, slashing at both attackers.

Nie Xuan, his gauntlets destroyed and hands still wounded, dared not clash head-on. He twisted, darting to Qi Fu’s back, diverting all blade pressure onto Lin Feng!

“Heh heh… So many people for Qi Chan to feast upon—and a lovely young lady too, heh…” As the three fought fiercely, a thunderous crash erupted—a monstrous figure crashed to the ground, stunning everyone.

Qi Chan’s cultivation was the Poison King’s own “Giant Toad Demon Art”—devouring living victims, refining their blood—unspeakably evil. Now bloated and grotesque, Qi Chan crouched like an enormous toad, his belly distended, hideous to behold and chilling to the bone.

“You two, fetch the Divine Bow—quick!” Zuo Qingcheng shoved aside Liu Yun and Liao Kai, brandishing his blade and charging at Qi Chan. Xia’s father and daughter, along with Ye Ziyin, joined the fray, swiftly encircling Qi Chan.

Bang! Bang! Bang! On Lin Feng’s side, Qi Fu’s twin blades swept arcs of moonlight, clashing with spear and sword in thunderous, ear-shattering exchanges. Sparks exploded, steel shattering inch by inch, fragments flying high. The flashing blade light showered everywhere, dazzling the night!

The mystical weapons of the Beichen family revealed their true brilliance in this moment.

When equals collide, a superior weapon tips the scales.

Boom! Seizing the rare chance, Nie Xuan struck with a fierce punch. Qi Fu grunted, leaping into the air on the momentum, plunging the courtyard into darkness.

“Be careful!” Nie Xuan warned—Qi Fu’s true abilities were only now emerging. These two Poison Saints—one cultivating “Ten Thousand Bat Poison Scripture,” the other the “Giant Toad Demon Art”—were favorites of the Poison King, despite their shallow skills. No one else dared train these deadly arts, which damaged one’s spiritual foundation.

“You destroyed my Dagger Blade—who are you, really?” Qi Fu hovered in midair, his massive bat-like form emanating a terrifying aura that made everyone’s scalp crawl.

“Enough talk—Nie, together, let’s slay that toad first!” On the other side, Qi Chan, transformed into a monstrous toad, had hoped to devour some victims, but Xia Baizhu and Zuo Qingcheng were no easy targets—their staff and blade posed real threats.

Nie Xuan seized the sword Lin Feng threw him, and together they charged Qi Chan. Furious, Qi Fu in the air split into nine shadows, swooping at Lin Feng!

Nine shadows appeared at once, nearly indistinguishable, each bringing whistling winds and flashing blades.

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One Bat Becomes Ten Thousand—a technique from the Poison Scripture! If perfected, one could split into thousands of avatars. Qi Fu had not mastered it fully, but his golden hook was a hidden, deadly strike!

Lin Feng switched tactics, spinning to defend. His silver spear pointed skyward, unleashing crackling lightning to entangle Qi Fu’s nine shadows.

Hiss—on the Pear-Blossom Snow Spear, a blood-soaked black cloth appeared: Qi Fu’s torn sleeve, blood dripping down the spear to the ground.

After the melee, Lin Feng’s back bore a hideous wound slashing from shoulder to waist, flesh laid open. The nine avatars were but illusions, aided by the night to deceive someone of Lin Feng’s level.

“Let’s see how long you last!” Qi Fu sneered, becoming a shadow again, swooping to strike!

Furious winds surged from every direction—there was no telling Qi Fu’s true position.

“Ugh!” The golden hook pierced Lin Feng’s chest. Red light blazed in Qi Fu’s eyes, a grin curling at his lips—when suddenly, crack! A sharp snap brought agony to his wrist. Qi Fu’s eyes widened, shrieking as he leaped back.

Lin Feng’s secret technique—the Great Luo Edge Fist, “Tendon Shatter and Wrist Break”—risked exposing his chest to lure Qi Fu, then broke his wrist. It was a desperate, mutual destruction move.

The golden hook remained in Lin Feng’s chest, but he did not rush to pull it out. He kicked, regained his spear.

Qi Fu’s wrist shattered, seeing Qi Chan beset, he gritted his teeth and fled toward the manor’s edge.

“Don’t let them escape!” Lin Feng’s heart raced—involving more masters from the Deadly Poison Valley would doom everyone.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liu Yun and Liao Kai arriving, panting as they carried the Divine Bow’s wooden case. Lin Feng darted forward, snatched the box, strung the bow, nocked an arrow—the speed was astonishing. Liu Yun and Liao Kai barely saw him draw before the arrow was gone.

A gleaming arrow streaked through the darkness, aimed at Qi Fu, fleeing two or three hundred yards away.

The arrow tore the night like a dragon, striking Qi Fu down!

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