150: Chapter 150 Severe Injury

Behind him.

The golden phantom's hollow gaze fell upon him, and it slowly raised its hand, pointing a finger out.

There was no sound of breaking air, no fluctuation of spiritual light. A golden stream of light, as thin as a hair, shot out from its fingertip, silent and faster than the naked eye could follow.

A strong sense of crisis washed over him.

Wu Li's pupils constricted sharply. Gritting his teeth, he flapped his wings violently, his body making a sharp turn in the air.

But the speed of the stream of light was too fast, too fast for him to dodge.

"I cannot dodge this!"

In this critical moment, Wu Li did not hesitate to summon his Yin and Yang Dharma twin rings and the great flame dragon halberd, while simultaneously unleashing the Colorless Profound Light from within his body, using every means at his disposal.

"Boom!!"

The golden stream of light collided with the Yin and Yang Dharma rings.

"Crack!!"

The Dharma rings shattered, losing their spiritual light. The stream of light continued unabated, striking the fire halberd and sending it flying; the great flame dragon halberd was knocked from his hand and plunged into the ground. Finally, it struck the Colorless Profound Light.

The Profound Light trembled violently, cracks spreading like a spiderweb.

Wu Li gritted his teeth, his Demon Power surging madly in an attempt to maintain the Profound Light, but the power of the stream of light was too strong—too strong for his Demon Power to replenish in time.

"Boom!"

The Colorless Profound Light shattered.

The golden stream of light struck Wu Li in the chest.

His body stiffened abruptly, and he spat out a mouthful of blood. His entire demonic form flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Two breaths later...

Wu Li, who had been lying with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. He was sprawled on the ground, and there wasn't a single part of him that didn't ache.

"Damn... it..."

Wu Li's Demon Power was nearly exhausted, and he could no longer even maintain the Technique of Refining Form.

His form slowly shrank within the demonic light. The wings on his back folded, his sharp claws transformed back into five fingers, then retracted into claws again. His form shifted from the slender, well-proportioned half-human, half-demon body back to his true crow form...

In the distance.

Fang Zhen, Master of Longcheng Fairy Market, leaned on his steel saber, standing in the distance. Watching Wu Li's back disappear into the night, his expression was terrifyingly gloomy.

He did not pursue; he could no longer pursue.

The strike from that phantom had exhausted all the power stored within his token. Furthermore, according to Fang Zhen, Master of Longcheng Fairy Market's calculations, no matter how strong that crow was, it should not have been able to withstand this strike.

He sheathed his steel saber, walked over to the Golden Core Elder's corpse, crouched down, and checked for his breath.

He was dead...

"Damn it."

Fang Zhen, Master of Longcheng Fairy Market, frowned, stood up, and looked up toward the direction of Taiyue Mountain, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

He turned and walked toward Long City, his back quickly disappearing into the night.

The night wind howled, and the moonlight was pale.

Outside the city, it was deathly silent.

Only Wu Li lay on the ground, gasping for air. It took him a full half-hour to barely recover a little.

"I was careless."

Wu Li lay on the ground, his blood-red pupils constricting slightly as he probed his consciousness into his body.

His Demon Core was trembling.

Its light had dimmed significantly. His internal organs were all damaged to varying degrees: his liver was torn, his kidneys were congested with blood, his lungs were bruised black, and his heart was beating irregularly, like an engine about to fall apart.

Several Meridians were broken, and as his Demon Power circulated within his body, it felt like a river blocked by stones, flowing intermittently.

At the same time, his Yin and Yang Dharma had been shattered directly; the broken spiritual light had completely dissipated, and it was no longer recognizable in its original form.

The great flame dragon halberd was still there, and fortunately, it had no fatal damage; it could be restored by nourishing it with Demon Power.

"I must recover first and stabilize my injuries!"

Wu Li climbed up from the ground, spread his wings, and flew toward Qingshi Town.

...

At this moment.

Qingshi Town.

In a dilapidated wooden house at the edge of the town, the candlelight flickered.

Zhang Huaiyuan sat cross-legged on a tattered wooden bed, surrounded by blood-colored light, his face full of a manic smile.

Two corpses lay on the ground, wearing grayish-white Dharma robes. Each had a bloody hole in their chest, their blood already congealed, emitting a thick, bloody stench.

He licked the remaining bloodstains from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with greed and excitement.

"Seventh level of Qi Refining... Hahaha... Seventh level of Qi Refining!"

Zhang Huaiyuan's voice was hoarse and low, filled with uncontrollable pride.

"I really am a Genius! In just half a year, going from the first level of Qi Refining to the seventh level—what are those so-called Geniuses of the immortal sects compared to me?"

He spread his arms and threw his head back in laughter. The laughter echoed in the dilapidated wooden house, shaking dust down in flurries.

However.

As he laughed, his smile suddenly froze.

A familiar aura drifted over from the distance, extremely faint, but he perceived it—it was the aura of the Blood Seal Pagoda, the aura of his master, Wu Li.

Zhang Huaiyuan's expression instantly turned ugly, his brows knitting together into a knot.

Why did that crow come here?

He suppressed the displeasure in his heart, took a deep breath, forced a smile onto his face, and turned to walk toward the door.

The moment he pushed open the door, his pupils contracted sharply.

In the night sky.

An ink-purple crow was flying over unsteadily.

The moment Zhang Huaiyuan saw Wu Li, his pupils constricted slightly. Although Wu Li had returned to his true form, that weakness and the state of having been injured were apparent at a glance.

Zhang Huaiyuan's heart gave a sudden jolt...

This crow was injured, and not lightly. So, was he...

He stared at Wu Li, a flash of complex emotion in his eyes, which quickly vanished. He hurriedly went up to meet him, his face full of smiles, his voice respectful, but his tone carried a hint of concern.

"Master, what happened to you..."

Before Zhang Huaiyuan could finish his sentence, Wu Li raised his hand to interrupt him.

"Enough nonsense."

"I won't say much about my situation, and I won't stand on ceremony with you either."

Zhang Huaiyuan was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly nodded: "Master, please speak, please speak."

"Lend me your life."

Zhang Huaiyuan didn't react at first, repeatedly agreeing, nodding and bowing: "Yes, yes, yes, Master, please command me; this lowly one's life belongs to you..."

Halfway through his sentence, his voice came to an abrupt halt.

He jerked his head up, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks, his face instantly turning deathly pale.

"Life? Master, you... you must be joking..."

Zhang Huaiyuan's voice was trembling, and his legs were shaking too.

Wu Li did not answer.

The Blood Pupil on his forehead opened silently, and a scarlet light enveloped Zhang Huaiyuan.

Zhang Huaiyuan's body stiffened abruptly, his eyes instantly losing focus, his expression beyond his control. He froze in place, like a puppet whose Soul had been extracted.

His body slowly floated up, his feet leaving the ground, suspended in mid-air.

Blood-colored light condensed within his body, converging from his limbs and bones toward his heart, as if something was gestating inside.

That ball of blood-colored light grew brighter and more solid, finally transforming into a blood-colored bead the size of a thumb, which slowly emerged from his chest.

"This blood seed of yours will be just right for healing my injuries."

The moment the blood seed left his body, Zhang Huaiyuan's vitality began to plummet rapidly.

His hair turned white at a speed visible to the naked eye, from the roots to the tips, turning completely white in the blink of an eye.

His skin changed from rosy to sallow, then from sallow to ashen, and wrinkles crawled across his face like knife carvings.

His body began to wither, his shoulders slumped, his back bent, and his entire being resembled a withered tree that had been drained of all moisture.