The scene on the arena made everyone blanch.
The same Lin Huang who had furiously slain Luo Hefeng and fought three opponents at once was now completely defenseless against Jiang Huaiyin. He didn’t have the slightest strength to fight back.
Now, Lin Huang, his body pierced by the Yin Soul Rope and tied to the cage, looked like a miserable dog.
"Lin Huang... is probably doomed this time!" a disciple said, his face blooming with joy.
"Even his strongest attack couldn’t break Jiang Huaiyin’s cage. How could he possibly contend with him? He’s dead for sure," another disciple sneered.
"To think Jiang Huaiyin possessed such strength. This guy might just be the most deeply hidden figure in the Outer Sect."
"Indeed. Remember, even Luo Hefeng was brutally killed by Lin Huang, yet Jiang Huaiyin can toy with Lin Huang in the palm of his hand. His power is unimaginable."
"With such strength, he could have entered the Inner Sect long ago. I really don’t know why he’s still lingering in the Outer Sect."
"Who knows?"
Watching the scene on the arena, the crowd discussed fervently. They looked at Lin Huang struggling in the cage with mockery, and cast wary glances at Jiang Huaiyin.
"Sister Xuee, think of something! What should we do?" In a corner of the Martial Arts Arena, Yann Qing’er tugged at Lin Cangxue’s clothes, her pretty little face filled with worry.
Lin Cangxue furrowed her brows tightly, her delicate hands clenched inside her sleeves. She stepped toward the arena, but Fatty Bai suddenly pulled her back.
Meeting Lin Cangxue’s questioning gaze, Fatty Bai tossed aside the Big White Cat in his hands and chuckled. "When Boss Lin killed Crown Prince Lingyun back then, he used his left hand!"
"He still has one more move!" Lu Han interjected. From beginning to end, Lu Han had never seen Lin Huang use that technique.
Lin Cangxue’s brows remained knitted. Her gaze shifted from Fatty Bai and Lu Han to Lin Huang on the arena, only to suddenly realize that Yann Qing’er was already rushing toward the stage.
At the same time, Yun Feifei was approaching the arena from a distance. Lin Cangxue’s expression turned cold. A radiant longsword abruptly appeared in her hand as she too headed toward the arena.
Yun Feifei turned her head to look at Lin Cangxue. A cunning smirk played on her lips, revealing provocation and disdain.
If Yann Qing’er charged onto the arena right now, this Battle Eight Directions would inevitably come to an end. No one dared to lay a hand on her—she was the most beloved daughter of the Piaoxue Palace Master, Yann Nangui. Therefore, Yun Feifei had to stop Yann Qing’er.
And for Lin Cangxue to try and stop her... it was simply a fool’s dream. How could someone whose Cultivation she had plundered and whose Martial Soul was shattered ever hope to block her path?
Yun Feifei looked up at Lin Huang, who was still struggling in the cage. A vicious glint flashed in her bright eyes. She thought, "You Lin Siblings are destined to be nothing more than miserable dogs for others to toy with for the rest of your lives."
As Yann Qing’er, Yun Feifei, and Lin Cangxue all converged on the arena, the cage on the stage had almost shrunk to its absolute limit. Bound within, Lin Huang was unable to swing the Demon-Suppressing Blade due to the restricted space.
The Yin Soul Ropes writhing inside and outside the cage had thoroughly transformed into a Scythe of Death poised to harvest his life.
On the arena, Jiang Huaiyin also noticed the movements of Yann Qing’er and the others. He let out a cold chuckle. "To think there are actually people who don’t want you dead. TSK TSK... this isn’t good news. I originally wanted to spare your life for a little while longer, but it seems even God won’t allow it."
A radiant smile blossomed on Jiang Huaiyin’s face before turning exceptionally chilling. A frosty murderous intent flashed in his eyes, and the Yin Soul Ropes thrashing about the arena instantly pierced right into Lin Huang’s chest.
"Lin Huang!"
"Xiaohuang!"
Yann Qing’er and Lin Cangxue cried out simultaneously, their faces draining of color.
Fatty Bai stared blankly, looking at Lin Huang in utter disbelief. He had been messing around with him for years; he knew that Lin Huang’s left-handed blade was far stronger than his right.
Below the arena, the crowd sighed in lament. "It seems this Battle Eight Directions will ultimately end in failure!"
"Although Lin Huang exceeded our expectations, he was simply too arrogant in the end. Besides, this Jiang Huaiyin... he’s just too ferocious!"
Watching a Yin Soul Rope stab straight through Lin Huang’s chest, the onlookers actually began to feel a hint of pity. Yet, mingled with that pity was an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. Why should a recently inducted disciple possess such strength? What right did he have to initiate the Battle Eight Directions? What gave him the right to trample everyone underfoot? It was for the best that he died.
On the arena, Jiang Huaiyin looked at Lin Huang’s blood-soaked figure. His smile grew even more brilliant as he paced around his victim, clicking his tongue in heavy sarcasm. "Three years ago, I exposed Lin Cangxue’s whereabouts, reducing her to something as lowly as mud. Three years later, taking your wretched life is as easy as reaching into my own pocket. So what if it’s Lin Cangxue? So what if it’s her brother? You’re both nothing more than playthings for me to mold and crush at will!"
Jiang Huaiyin laughed, "HEHEHE," extracting a ghost head from the Yin Soul Rope to toy with in his hands. His voice, like that of a bat from Hell, was incredibly piercing. "Now, accept your fate and become a ghost head on my Yin Soul Rope!"
As soon as he spoke, the Yin Soul Rope impaling Lin Huang’s body abruptly trembled. The ghost heads coiled around it roared in unison, radiating a murky, sinister glow.
A profoundly mysterious power invaded Lin Huang’s body through the Yin Soul Rope, plundering his soul.
In an instant, Lin Huang’s handsome face distorted. He turned deathly pale, his entire body trembling as if an immense force was trying to drag him down into a Hell where he would never see the light of day again.
Seeing this, the smile on Jiang Huaiyin’s face widened even further. He muttered to Lin Huang, "You are the one hundred and eighth soul to perish under my Yin Soul Ropes. Once I refine your soul into a ghost head, my ninth Yin Soul Rope will reach Great Success.
"When that time comes, I’m afraid there won’t be many people in the Inner Sect who can match me!"
Jiang Huaiyin’s face flushed red with excitement.
"Do you truly believe that a mere Yin Soul Rope is enough to plunder my soul?"
Just as Jiang Huaiyin was reveling in his triumph, Lin Huang’s hoarse voice faintly echoed in his ears. Slowly raising his eyes, Lin Huang stared at Jiang Huaiyin with a cold, merciless gaze. "Or did you think I was genuinely unaware that your strength originates entirely from the ghost heads on these Yin Soul Ropes?"
Jiang Huaiyin’s expression stiffened, a trace of unease welling up in his heart. But then he felt he was overthinking it and laughed coldly. "So what if you know? Don’t tell me you can actually subdue these ghost heads?
"One hundred and seven ghost heads. Do you know how long it took me to refine them? A full seven years!"
Inside the cage, Lin Huang looked at the arrogant Jiang Huaiyin and suddenly grinned. His calm demeanor carried a bone-chilling ruthlessness. "In that case, I’ll let you witness what a berserk dragon breaking out of Hell truly looks like!"
The moment his words fell, Lin Huang closed his eyes and awakened the Martial Soul within his Profound Sea.
Martial Soul—Celestial Asura!
ROAR...
Within his Profound Sea, the Celestial Asura abruptly opened its eyes, looking down on the Human World like an absolute Overlord. The vast Power of Martial Soul surged through his entire body like a monstrous flood. Wherever this power passed, it turned into a living Hell. Any ghost head it encountered was either instantly crushed to dust by the Celestial Asura or swallowed whole in a single bite.
Upon meeting the Celestial Asura, those ghost heads reacted as if they had encountered their natural nemesis. Terrified like cowering dogs, they could only be ruthlessly slaughtered and devoured.
Not only that, but the Celestial Asura in his Profound Sea seemed to go berserk. It extended the Power of Martial Soul through the Yin Soul Ropes embedded in Lin Huang’s body to the outside, continuously dragging the exterior ghost heads into his body.
On the arena, Jiang Huaiyin suddenly let out a miserable shriek!
When he saw that all the ghost heads on the Yin Soul Rope piercing Lin Huang had been completely wiped out, he felt as if his own Martial Soul was being violently torn apart.
He abruptly spewed a mouthful of blood!
Worse yet, the ghost heads on the other Yin Soul Ropes began to tremble, drawn involuntarily toward Lin Huang’s body.
His face drastically changing, Jiang Huaiyin hastily dispelled the cage surrounding Lin Huang and tried to yank out the Yin Soul Rope embedded in him.
"Do you think you can pull this out just because you want to?" Lin Huang let out a smile full of Dominance. He reached out and grabbed the Yin Soul Rope lodged in his body, staring at Jiang Huaiyin with a dark, eerie gaze.
He knew the ghost heads were the source of Jiang Huaiyin’s strength. He also understood that the Yin Soul Ropes were interconnected. Since his Celestial Asura Martial Soul could slaughter the ghost heads through the rope inside him, he naturally wouldn’t let go so easily.
Furious, Jiang Huaiyin prepared to attack Lin Huang again, only to find that the ghost heads on the other Yin Soul Ropes were being uncontrollably sucked into Lin Huang’s body. His expression shifted drastically once more as he decisively slashed off the Yin Soul Rope connected to Lin Huang.
"Severing your own limb to save your life?" Lin Huang pulled out the severed Yin Soul Rope from his body, his expression freezing cold. "These chains are the manifestations of the Martial Soul within you. How does it feel to forcibly sever one yourself?"
Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, Jiang Huaiyin’s narrow eyes practically bled an extremely frigid murderous intent. He glared at Lin Huang with a face full of malice and ground his teeth together. "You wild dog, you really love to show off the moment you get a chance. Even if you sever one—no, even if you cut them all off, you are still nothing more than sticky mud beneath the soles of my feet!"
As soon as he finished speaking, terrifying, ear-piercing shrieks echoed across the arena once more. The Yin Soul Ropes surrounding Jiang Huaiyin shot into the sky again, their spear-like tips locking onto Lin Huang like cold, venomous pythons.
And there were a full seven of those Yin Soul Ropes!
Lin Huang looked at the hundreds of ghosts howling on the Yin Soul Ropes, their cries like the sobbing roars of Hell’s grim reapers. As the sinister, terrifying aura enveloped him, he suddenly felt his scalp go numb...