77: Chapter 77 The Fisherman's Profit

Chen Feng collapsed onto the gravel ground, his Flying Sword slipping from his grasp.

The Flying Sword clattered onto the gravel, its wind-attribute Spiritual Qi flickering a few times before extinguishing.

He lay sprawled in the pile of gravel, curled into a ball.

His right leg was twisted at an angle no normal person could ever achieve, the broken bone piercing through his skin and exposed, blindingly white under the sun.

Sweat surged from his forehead, large beads rolling down one after another, dripping onto the gravel and creating dark water stains.

He struggled in the gravel for quite a while before using his left arm to prop himself up to a sitting position.

His entire face was devoid of any color, his lips purple, and he bit down so hard that the muscles of his cheeks stood out in distinct ridges.

He fished a bottle of hemostatic powder from his Storage Pouch and patted it onto the stump of his leg.

The moment the powder touched the wound, it hissed and emitted white smoke, and a pungent smell of scorched flesh permeated the air.

The bleeding was barely stanched, but the muscles at the stump were still twitching unconsciously due to the excruciating pain.

Then, using his left arm to support himself, he crawled forward.

With every inch he crawled, the stump of his right leg dragged a dark red bloodstain across the gravel.

Gravel pierced into the wound, causing his whole body to shudder in pain, but he did not stop.

When he reached the Vermilion Fruit, he stretched out his left hand, his five fingers trembling as they grasped the bright red fruit.

The skin of the fruit was covered in gravel and dust, but the rich fire-attribute Spiritual Qi could be felt through the peel, and a warm pulsation came from his palm.

He clutched the Vermilion Fruit in his palm, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip.

Then, he reached out to grab the Storage Pouch at Liu Yuan's waist.

His fingers hooked onto the drawstring of the pouch, and he yanked it off.

Before he could open the Storage Pouch, before he could put the Vermilion Fruit inside, and before he could even catch his breath—

A bamboo sword shot silently out from the shadows of the rock wall.

The lightning arc patterns on the sword were fully activated, with crackling violet-white arcs dancing at the tip, ionizing the surrounding air into a pale blue mist.

The purple pattern gold threads on the spine of the bamboo sword wound along the spiral patterns, glowing with a faint purple light under the reflection of the electric arcs, converging circle by circle toward the tip.

Chen Feng's perception was torn apart by the excruciating pain, and his reaction was more than half a beat slow.

By the time he heard the crackle of the electric arcs, it was already too late.

The bamboo sword pierced into the back of his neck.

The tip pierced the Fengfu acupoint, but it did not penetrate the cervical spine; instead, the compressed lightning arcs on the sword body were injected into his Meridians all at once.

Chen Feng froze on the spot.

The lightning arcs rampaged wildly within his body.

The circulation of Spiritual Qi in his Meridians was completely shattered by the electric shock, his limbs convulsed violently, his fingers opened uncontrollably, and the Vermilion Fruit rolled out of his palm and onto the gravel again.

The Divine Sense shock of the purple pattern gold threads also erupted at the same instant.

A thread-thin purple light flashed along the spine of the sword, like a red-hot needle stabbing fiercely into his Sea of Consciousness.

Chen Feng's pupils dilated suddenly, his spiritual platform and Divine Sense were blasted into a blank void by the cone-shaped impact, his mind buzzed, and he could feel nothing.

This paralysis lasted less than a single breath.

But for Jiang Yan, it was enough.

The dark gold flame gold flying sword shot out from another direction.

The crimson centerline on the spine of the sword was particularly blinding under the sunlight, all nine Restrictions were activated, and the tip of the sword drew three arcs in the air.

The arcs flashed across Chen Feng's shoulders and left knee.

The first sword struck off his left arm, the second his right arm, and the third his left leg.

Before the trajectories of the three severed limbs could land, Jiang Yan had already swept out from behind a dwarf pine.

He landed three steps in front of Chen Feng.

The soles of his boots crunched lightly on the gravel, and his cloak flicked behind him.

Chen Feng lay flat on his back on the gravel. Blood surged from his severed limbs because of the loss of Spiritual Qi suppression, but before much could flow out, Jiang Yan's right palm was already pressed against his chest.

A Spiritual Qi seal was injected from his palm into Chen Feng's Meridians.

It was not an ordinary Spiritual Qi lock—it was a sealing technique from the Bloodthirsty Demon Scripture specifically used to suppress captives.

The Spiritual Qi transformed into dozens of extremely fine dark purple threads, which poured into the Tanzhong acupoint on his chest, seeped along the inner walls of his Meridians, and forcibly suppressed the remaining vortex of Spiritual Qi within his Dantian.

Chen Feng's whole body jolted violently. With his Dantian locked and his Spiritual Qi unable to be mobilized, he was temporarily transformed from a Cultivator into a Mortal.

Blood surged from the severed limb wounds again, but at the same time, Jiang Yan's seal also blocked several major Bloodline nodes at his shoulders and hips.

The bleeding was stanched after a moment, and the muscles at the stumps contracted slightly due to the sealed Spiritual Qi.

Jiang Yan ignored Chen Feng. He first picked up the Vermilion Fruit from the ground.

This baby-fist-sized bright red fruit felt slightly warm in his hand; it wasn't the temperature of being heated by the sun, but a warmth radiating from within the fruit flesh, like holding a freshly baked pastry that still retained its residual heat.

The skin was as smooth as jade, and touching it with his fingers, he could feel the subtle pulsation brought by the juices slowly flowing beneath the peel.

Bringing it close to his nose, the rich fruity fragrance rushed straight to his brain.

It was not an ordinary fruit fragrance, but a complex aroma mixed with fire-attribute Spiritual Qi and some indescribable sweet scent.

The dark purple vortex in his Dantian accelerated uncontrollably, and the flow rate of his Spiritual Qi was several times faster than usual.

He carefully placed the Vermilion Fruit into an empty jade box.

He had previously carved several simple storage Restrictions on the inner walls of the jade box; the moment the lid closed, the Restrictions activated, sealing the fruity fragrance and Spiritual Qi fluctuations tight.

Then he took Liu Yuan's Storage Pouch from Chen Feng's severed hand.

That severed hand still maintained a clenched posture, its five fingers stiffly hooked onto the drawstring of the pouch; he had to pry it open with the spine of his Flying Sword.

Chen Feng's own Storage Pouch was still hanging at his waist, his robe soaked through with blood on one side, and the pouch was also covered in blood.

Jiang Yan untied the drawstring and pulled the pouch off.

Only after doing all this did he withdraw his Flying Sword and precisely tap three times at the wounds of Chen Feng's three severed limbs.

The depth of each sword tip insertion just happened to touch the edges of the severed blood vessels.

Spiritual Qi surged from the sword tip, sealing the broken blood vessels, and covered the surface of the broken bone with a very thin film of Spiritual Qi to prevent the bone marrow from leaking.

The blood vessels were sealed, but the Meridians remained intact—he needed this person alive to answer questions.

Chen Feng's life was temporarily saved.

But his face had turned a deathly gray, his lips changed from purple to gray, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his cheekbones protruded as two sharp contours under his skin.

His whole body was soaked in sweat, his robe clinging to him, and one could see his chest still rising and falling weakly.

Jiang Yan began to clear the traces of the battle.

First was the Fireball Technique. Orange-red fireballs popped from his fingertips, landing on the fragments of Liu Yuan's Wood Spike Talisman.

The flames licked over the gravel, burning the wood chips and Liu Yuan into ashes together.

Then was the Gale Technique.

Cyan wind pressure surged from his palm, blowing away the dark green powder residue of the poison cleanly.

After the wind passed, the small holes corroded into the surface of the gravel remained, but it was impossible to identify the type of poison powder from them.

The bloodstains on the gravel were cleared by a Cleaning Technique.

Dark purple Spiritual Qi surged from his palm, covered those dark red bloodstains, and with a gentle vibration, the bloodstains turned into extremely fine powder and mixed into the soil.

Having finished all this, he grabbed Chen Feng's collar and rose into the air on his Flying Sword.