When Feng realized Yuta had been injured by the Ruler of the Blackwood Forest, a spark of hope ignited in his heart. His mind raced to formulate a plan.
"First, I need to understand the extent of his injuries. I'm only at the fifth level of Qi Condensation, and I'm already wounded.
Forcing a direct fight would still likely end in my death.
Even if I force another integration with my Heaven's Pact, I'd only reach the strength of soone at the early sixth level of Qi Condensation."
These thoughts flashed through Feng's mind in an instant.
Without hesitation, he gathered his Darksilver spiritual energy into his palms, shaping it into claw-like projections.
While dashing ahead, he launched a probing attack.
SLASH!
Beams of sharp, steel-like light streaked toward Yuta.
However, Yuta summoned his Misty Dagger, deflecting the attack effortlessly.
"Hmph," Yuta sneered. "There's no need for probing, you trash.
We're both injured, and I may not know how strong you are, but I know exactly how powerful Ren was.
At most, he had the strength of soone at the sixth level of Qi Condensation.
If you're struggling against , you must be around the sa level.
Let remind you—seventh level is a bottleneck, a divide.
No one below it could ever hope to defeat soone like ."
Feng frowned, sensing sothing was off.
If Yuta was truly as powerful as he claid, why waste ti talking?
A cultivator of his caliber would have already used his strongest techniques to end the battle decisively.
"You should take a break," Feng taunted, smirking.
"Push yourself too hard, and you'll probably keel over first. Don't you think?"
This ti, Yuta remained silent.
Feng noticed the subtle change in his breathing—it had slowed, almost as if he was trying to conserve strength.
"You took a direct hit from the Blackwood Ruler.
Even with that protective talisman from Elder Zhou, there's no way you ca out unscathed.
That ans you're not as strong as you want to think. You're bluffing," Feng deduced.
He continued, his voice sharp: "Or do you really think I'm as weak as you assu?"
Yuta didn't respond, but his aura flared.
Blood streaked down his face and body, giving him a ferocious, nacing appearance.
Feng stopped running, turning to face his opponent.
His eyes burned with killing intent.
"What's one more kill?" Feng muttered, a bloody smile spreading across his face.
Pain throbbed in his chest, blood trickled from his wounds, and his shoulders and sides ached with fiery agony.
Yet, sohow, the pain made him feel more alive than ever.
[Warning: The host is in a state of confusion due to severe injuries. The system recomnds imdiate escape!]
Feng scowled. "If you're not going to give decent advice, at least try to motivate ."
[Understood. The system believes the host will overco this life-and-death situation!]
"Is this thing trying to pick a fight with ?," Feng muttered, dismissing the ssage.
He refocused on the situation at hand.
Yuta smirked. "What? ready to die you broken soul trash?"
"If I run, I'll die anyway," Feng replied coldly.
"Elder Zhou is here, and the Ruler doesn't owe any favors.
That leaves with one choice—to go through you."
"Hmmp, we'll see if you can keep up with those bragging words," Yuta said as he dashed forward.
"Raincloud Art: Misty Drizzle!" Yuta bellowed, unleashing a familiar technique.
Mist spread through the area, shrouding it in a dense fog.
Within the mist, spectral daggers materialized and shot toward Feng with ruthless precision.
But this ti, Feng was prepared. "You've used this technique twice now.
Did you think I wouldn't figure out how to counter it?"
Darksilver energy surged into Feng's eyes, turning them a distinct, glowing gray.
With his enhanced vision, he could see through the mist, spotting the spectral daggers targeting his injuries.
"Bastard," Feng hissed, dodging the daggers with split-second precision.
He even tried to catch one, but as his hand made contact, the dagger dispersed like mist—leaving behind a sharp sting, as if he'd been cut.
"Oh?" Yuta's voice cut through the fog.
"You've figured out how to see through the mist?
Unfortunately, that won't be enough to beat ."
Before Feng could respond, Yuta vanished from sight.
SLASH!
Feng barely dodged, craning his neck just in ti.
He countered by slamming his palm toward Yuta's dagger, deflecting it.
Using the opening, Feng launched a powerful kick aid at Yuta's waist.
BOOM!
Yuta disappeared again, reappearing behind Feng in an instant.
With a cold gleam in his eye, he drove his Misty Dagger toward Feng's shoulder.
"Let's see what you've got," Yuta sneered, his voice dripping with confidence as he dashed forward, the ground trembling faintly under the force of his Qi.
"Raincloud Art: Sea of Mist!" he roared, his voice echoing through the battlefield.
Instantly, a thick, oppressive fog burst forth, swirling around them like a living entity.
The mist was not just concealnt—it carried an eerie energy that seed to seep into Feng's skin, chilling him to the bone.
The fog spread rapidly, devouring the surroundings and blocking out all light.
It was as if the world had been swallowed into an endless gray void.
Within the mist, faint whispers seed to drift, disorienting and unsettling.
Then ca the unmistakable sound—a tallic hum, sharp and cutting, as spectral daggers materialized, floating nacingly within the fog.
Feng tensed as the daggers began to move.
Their speed was terrifying, streaking toward him with ruthless precision.
Each dagger seed to carry a lethal intent, aid directly at his weakest points.
When Feng realized what was happening, a cold shiver ran down his spine.
It wasn't just fear—it was a sense of impending doom, a chilling awareness that he was staring death itself in the face.
Every instinct scread at him to run, to flee and preserve what little life he had left.
But there was nowhere to go.
If he hesitated now, even for a mont, there would be no escape.
He would die here, his dreams, his struggles—all of it ending in vain.
Gritting his teeth, Feng forced himself to push through the fear.
The trembling in his legs subsided, replaced by a feeling of letting go.
"System... integrate!"
The mont the command left his lips, his body began to shift.
A surge of pain ripped through him, every muscle and bone in his fra twisting and contorting.
Black hair began to sprout from his skin, thick and coarse, with streaks of tallic silver running through it.
His hands morphed into claws, razor-sharp and glinting ominously, while his teeth elongated into vicious fangs that seed made for tearing flesh.
His pupils turned to slits, glowing with a predatory, gray luminescence that radiated cold ferocity.
A powerful, oppressive spiritual energy erupted from Feng's body like a tidal wave, spreading outward and shaking the very air around him.
The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered under the weight spiritual energy.
[WARNING!! THE HOST'S WILL IS CURRENTLY BEING CONSUD BY THE BLACKWOOD ALPHA WOLF. THE SYSTEM STRONGLY RECOMNDS THE HOST TERMINATE THE TRANSFORMATION IMDIATELY.]
The system's cold, chanical voice rang in Feng's mind, but he ignored it entirely.
He didn't have the luxury to hesitate.
He understood the risk—he could feel the Blackwood Alpha Wolf's will clawing at his mind, trying to take control.
But if he didn't take this gamble, he would die here and now.
"If I have to risk it" Feng growled under his breath, his voice deeper and more guttural.
"If I die without trying, what's the point? If I want to beco soone truly strong, then I'll have to beco soone who can face death with a smile on my face!"
Across the battlefield, Yuta froze in place.
His eyes narrowed as he watched Feng's transformation unfold.
The oppressive spiritual energy radiating from Feng made the air around him heavy.
For the first ti in the fight, a flicker of hesitation crossed Yuta's face.
"What the hell happened to that brat?" he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his Heaven's Pact.
Despite his bravado earlier, Yuta knew the truth of his own condition.
The attack from the Blackwood Ruler had left him far more injured than he'd let on.
The protective talisman from the Elder had saved his life, but it hadn't left him unscathed.
His body ached with every movent, and his spiritual energy was far from stable.
At best, Yuta could barely muster the strength of a cultivator at the peak of the sixth level of Qi Condensation.
That should have been enough to handle soone like Feng, especially with Yuta's superior combat experience.
But the pressure radiating from Feng now made him feel sothing he hadn't felt in years—unease.
"Did I ss up?," Yuta muttered, wiping blood from his brow as it dripped into his eyes.
His injuries throbbed painfully, and he felt his cultivation base being pushed to the limit to maintain his technique.
Feng didn't say anything.
His glowing gray eyes locked onto Yuta, the feral grin on his face revealing his sharp fangs.
His breath ca in low, guttural growls, his aura surging with each exhale.
Blood still seeped from his injuries, but he seed oblivious to the pain.
The two cultivators stood motionless, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a blade.
"KILL!!!" Feng scread at he dashed forward
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