The spear's movent shifted from extrely fast to extrely slow, but it didn't stop completely.
Sliding along Ahan's massive hands, it pressed against his chest.
At this point, the spear tip had already pierced Ahan's chest, and a trickle of blood flowed from the wound.
On the luminous dueling platform's display, Ahan's constitution points dropped from 6660 to 6610.
This minor injury cost him 50 constitution points.
The two combatants didn’t pay attention to the numbers, locked in a brief contest of strength.
Those watching below couldn’t clearly see the details of the struggle, but the numbers on the display suggested Ahan was at a disadvantage.
Because his points were intermittently decreasing.
6600… 6574… 6513… 6455…
In just this short ti, they had dropped by over 200.
This ant that during the contest, Red Hair’s spear tip was steadily penetrating deeper into Ahan’s body!
Red Hair’s eyes narrowed. With a sudden tremor in her hands, an eerie recoil force surged through the spear, forcing the two apart.
"Ah?!"
Many in the Hidden Snake Journey faction gasped in shock.
The mont they separated, Ahan’s constitution points instantly dropped by another 200, falling to 6255!
Then, they saw Ahan’s grotesquely enlarged hands drenched in blood, while the scales on Red Hair’s spear had splayed open—each one razor-sharp. It was these scales that had sliced through his hands.
In just the opening monts of the battle, Ahan had lost over 400 constitution points, sending waves of panic through Hidden Snake Journey’s ranks. The fight had lasted less than thirty seconds.
If this continued, wouldn’t Ahan lose in minutes? Or worse, could the next strike kill him outright?
The Hidden Snake Journey mbers wore expressions of tension—after all, this concerned their own stakes.
But in stark contrast, Ahan himself wasn’t afraid or discouraged. Instead, he was laughing.
No one in Cloud Peak understood why, not even Ye Zhongming. But if he was laughing, sothing had to be wrong.
"Look at Red Hair’s numbers!"
A juvenile corps mber suddenly shouted. Everyone turned to see that her constitution points, which should have been 7131, had quietly dropped by two.
"What’s going on?"
This was the collective question. Red Hair hadn’t been hit—why were her points decreasing?
"The spear!"
After observing closely, Ye Zhongming finally spotted the issue.
The others focused on Red Hair’s spear and realized that tiny, wriggling substances—the sa kind that had been on Ahan’s body—were now clinging to it.
They were so small and faint under the light that no one had noticed earlier.
In the ti it took to identify the cause, Red Hair’s points dropped by another two, falling to 7127.
And the decline continued, accelerating—from two points at a ti, to three, and now four!
Suddenly, the concern had shifted from Hidden Snake Journey’s side to Cloud Peak’s.
"Hahaha!"
The golden-armored child burst into laughter, his shrill voice grating.
"This is Ahan’s profession—Virus Carrier."
When his subordinates pressed for details, the boy smugly explained: "This job’s skills are incredibly powerful—they revolve around cultivating viruses. As far as I know, Ahan can currently nurture three types."
"The first is Explosive Fungus. Once cultivated, it integrates into the bearer’s body, enhancing their constitution. Now you know why Ahan is so massive, right? It’s his job’s skill!"
The crowd murmured in awe.
"The second is Armored Scale. This virus hardens Ahan’s skin to an incredible degree. You know why he never wears a shirt? It’s not to show off his muscles—it’s because he doesn’t need to! This skill makes him resistant to heat and cold and grants him defense comparable to gold-grade armor. He literally doesn’t need clothes—unless it’s purple-grade, and even I don’t have purple-grade armor!"
"Incredible!"
"No wonder Ahan’s so strong!"
The surrounding mbers cheered, their confidence swelling.
"The third is the virus currently draining that red-haired woman’s constitution points—it’s called Life-Devouring Tadpole. Ahan can only cultivate one gram per day. The amount he used today is over a year’s worth of stockpiling."
"Boss, tell us more! What exactly does this Life-Devouring Tadpole do?"
The little tyrant clearly relished the attention. Watching the renewed clash on the platform, he elaborated:
"This thing is terrifying. Normally, it’s like semi-solid butter. You could even eat it without issue. But once Ahan sars it on his body and nourishes it with his own energy and blood, it transforms within monts into sothing deadly—a contact-based virus that latches onto the target and devours their life force."
"No way to remove it?"
A subordinate frowned. If it was visible to the naked eye, surely there were ways to cleanse it?
"As far as I know, only extre heat can destroy it—flas at scorching temperatures. But you can’t just pluck it off. Are you going to set yourself on fire? So no, there’s no cure! Once infected, death is inevitable. Well, unless the quantity is small. Then you might sustain yourself by constantly replenishing life energy and waiting for the virus to die off naturally."
The boy glanced around, adopting a theatrically mournful expression. "Do you know how long these things live?"
"How long?"
"Ahan says… 120 years."
The crowd erupted into laughter. ?????? ?????????? ??????????????s ?????? ??????????s?????? ???? novel·fire·net
120 years of suffering—might as well be torture for a lifeti.
So this was Ahan’s true power!
The boy shook his head with faux solemnity. "Ten minutes is too short. Otherwise, you’d witness a living person slowly corrode into a puddle of sludge."
The Hidden Snake Journey faction grew increasingly excited, their laughter rising in waves.
The situation on the battlefield also reassured them. Ahan, who had been on the defensive earlier, was now pressing the attack. His massive hands lunged relentlessly at Red Hair, undeterred even when she dodged.
Perhaps nourished by his blood, the Life-Devouring Tadpoles had grown larger—now the size of millet grains!
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