Urban Cultivation: The master who has overcome the tribulation is reborn

The hall was littered with corpses, and the women who had been abducted and raped were huddled together timidly, smelling the sickening smell of blood with every breath.

However, they seemed unaware and just looked at the knight who suddenly stopped with a look of hope and concern.

The golden-eyed leopard had red eyes and disheveled hair, looking like a dog that had lost its home.

He collapsed to the ground, blood dripping from the tip of the knife so close to him, but he seemed unaware and just had a grim smile on his face.

"Choose."

The tip of Yan Qiren's knife sank several times and was then lifted up heavily by him, and his whole body was shaking like a sieve.

Not far behind him, dozens of people were kneeling in a row with their hands and feet tied, and a group of bandits with fear in their eyes were pressing sharp weapons against their chests.

The mixed cries of the babies could not cover up the bellows-like breathing of Yan Qi.

How could he not know that with this strike of the sword, the bandits dominating Yanshan would scatter like monkeys when the tree falls.

But can he kill the other person while saving so many lives and leading everyone out of the encirclement outside the hall?

More importantly, among the hostages used by the other party to coerce him, there were quite a few brothers from the Brotherhood Society.

"Three breaths, if you don't make a decision, I will kill one person."

The sickly Third Master dodged when Yan Qiren drew his sword, seeing that the situation was not good, and it was obvious that he had the ability to see through people's hearts.

Seeing that the situation was as he expected, he slowly poked his head out from the side and gave orders to the men who were holding the hostages.

The golden-eyed leopard turned its head away, with uncontrollable murderous intent in its eyes.

He could not have expected that his most trusted third brother would issue such an order when his life was in danger.

Three breaths passed in a flash, and Golden Eyed Biao was slightly relieved that no one took action.

The dry cough was very clear in the depressing hall, and then the baby's crying stopped abruptly.

The Third Master threw away the knife in his hand, covered his nose and mouth with disgust, and took a few steps back.

Yan Qiren turned around, staring at the head that had fallen to the ground with bloodshot eyes, his five fingers almost clenching the knife handle to leave a mark.

“Bai Feng!!”

The roar came from the mouth of the golden-eyed tiger who was lying limp on the ground, and his angry eyes almost wanted to kill people.

bang——

The third master, who was called Bai Feng, held a small and exquisite weapon in his hand, and thick white smoke floated out of the muzzle of the gun pointed at the Golden-Eyed Biao.

As soon as the Golden Eyed Biao shouted out a name in anger, he covered his chest with his hands in disbelief, and large amounts of blood continued to seep out from between his fingers.

"Why...why?" He asked intermittently with his remaining strength, then turned his head and fell completely silent.

Before Yan Qiren could recover from his extreme anger, he was dumbfounded by the dramatic scene before him.

Bai Feng's chuckle brought everyone back to their senses. "I have to thank Master Yan."

"If you hadn't killed the Golden Eyed Biao and so many other experts in the hall, I wouldn't have been able to gather enough resources for cultivation so quickly and achieve success today."

Yan Qiren looked up in horror, watching Bai Feng, whose feet were off the ground and slowly suspended in the air, with invisible blood-colored threads extending from his body, as if he was absorbing the power of the dead, and spoke in shock.

"Mara Sutra?!"

"No." Bai Feng floated in the air, opened his arms in enjoyment, lowered his eyes to look at the crowd that was in chaos just now and now full of fear, and couldn't help but chuckled, "It's the Demonic Sutra."

As his words rang out, the redness on the faces of both the hostages and the bandits began to fade, their skin and flesh quickly began to shrivel, and soon they looked extremely old.

Fear spread silently.

Yan Qiren took a deep breath, took in this shocking scene, leaped up and drew his sword.

Even if I die today, I must kill Bai Feng. Otherwise, if I let this devil come into the world, who knows how much blood and gore will be stirred up in the world.

"If I had faced this amazing sword strike half an hour ago, I would have been powerless to resist and would have died without a single chance of survival."

The invisible blood threads extending in all directions from Bai Feng's body absorbed the life essence of many people, causing his sickly cheeks to gradually become fuller and his pale skin to have color.

He lowered his eyes to look at Yan Qiren, who leaped towards him with his weapon shining brightly and slashed with the sword that could split mountains and crack rocks. He raised a finger and put it in front of his mouth.

"Shh, don't disturb me from listening to the sound of life passing away."

The rage in his eyes turned into fury in an instant as the words fell softly. The blood in his palm condensed like substance and hit the chest of Yan Qiren who was flying towards him from a distance of two feet.

An irresistible terrifying force came, causing Yan Qiren to fly backwards to the ground at a speed several times faster than before. After a loud bang, he smashed the white jade floor tiles into cracks and rolled for several feet before stopping.

Broken bones and broken tendons are not enough to describe the severity of his injuries at the moment. The Flying Swallow Sword in his hand fell to the side, slowly soaking into the blood that was oozing from his body.

Yan Qiren stared at the patterns on the roof with lifeless eyes, and a feeling of death continued to spread in his heart.

The injuries on his body could no longer be felt, and he just wanted to figure out one thing.

Martial arts versus the Demonic Sutra is like the Qing Dynasty versus the foreign powers. Will it be like himself facing Bai Feng at this moment, with no ability to fight back?

There is no hope for me.

Is there any hope for this world?

Yan Qiren should have quickly lost his life due to the massive blood loss, but the vitality that emerged from nowhere allowed him to forcefully turn his head. He struggled to move his body that was on the verge of breaking, and tried to reach for the Feiyan Knife beside him.

He was crawling on the ground, struggling and dragging his body slowly, his body dipped in blood and leaving large scarlet marks on the ground.

near...

There was a hint of relief in his eyes.

Even if a warrior dies, he should still hold on to his weapon tightly.

Feiyan Dao, He Lu, Brother Jiang... I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Just before the outstretched right hand touched the hilt of the Feiyan sword, it was stepped on by a pair of feet in black boots.

Bai Feng, with blood mist lingering around him, had a look of doubt in his eyes. He looked at Yan Qiren's body carefully, and after a while he spoke in confusion.

"How can we not absorb the essence if it hasn't dissipated yet?"

The blood mist condensed into a substance and explored several places on Yan Qiren's forehead, chest, and lower body, and obtained corresponding results.

"I want to see what's so special about you."

Bai Feng studied for a while and became more and more interested. He had not encountered such a strange thing since he obtained the Mo Luo Sutra.

Regardless of a person's martial arts level, age or gender, as long as they are seriously injured or dying, their energy can be extracted. This is the first time I have encountered a situation like Yan Qiren.

As soon as he finished speaking, an indifferent voice came from behind him, as cold as the snow that never melts on the Changbai Mountains.

"As insignificant as an ant, do you think you deserve to be called a master?"

Bai Feng's body froze, murderous intent flashed in his eyes, and he slowly reached over.

Three people walked slowly into the hall, but his eyes were always fixed on the young man with a dark yellow complexion who was in front of them.

Jiang Ran's pupils were as deep as a mirror, clearly reflecting the scene in the pool of blood.

He indifferently shifted his gaze away from the handsome man shrouded in blood mist and fell on Yan Qiren, whose life force was so weak that it was almost imperceptible and whose candlelight would be extinguished by a gust of wind.

"Brother Yan!" Tears welled up in He Lu's eyes and she rushed towards Yan Qiren, whose life or death was unknown, like a madman.

Erya, who was originally holding her arm, was dragged to the ground. When her little hand touched the salty and slippery ground, she couldn't help but retching.

Bai Feng pretended not to notice and let He Lu, who couldn't stop crying, approach Yan Qiren. With a smile on his face, he looked at the young man whose face was still calm but whose emotions were clearly fluctuating.

Jiang Ran closed his eyes slightly, also revealing an undisguised smile.

It was rare for him to show such obvious emotion.