Chapter 367

"Good, Rakshasa Cult Leader, you have finally decided to show yourself."

Facing the black figure that had suddenly appeared, Yu Liancheng, who was kneeling on one knee, not only detected it immediately but showed not the slightest surprise. A mocking smile curled at the corners of his mouth, and he neither dodged nor evaded.

The black figure's brows furrowed slightly, yet his strike did not hesitate in the slightest; his fist had already slammed heavily onto the top of Yu Liancheng's head.

Yu Liancheng's figure suddenly twisted and swirled, but it was not a physical body of substance; instead, it split into two phantoms, darting to the left and right behind the black-clad figure. Following closely, the two phantoms merged back into one, reforming into Yu Liancheng's likeness, and he smashed a fist toward the black-clad figure's back.

As this punch was thrown, a lustrous jade light emerged upon his fist, as if it were constantly drawing power from the universe, gathering it into the momentum of the strike. Scorching waves rolled, the temperature rose sharply, and in an instant, it was as if he were tightly gripping a scorching sun within his fist.

This strike from Yu Liancheng was mysterious, swift, explosive, and fierce; the black-clad figure had no time to turn around and defend.

Fortunately, this man in black was no ordinary person. His bright red cape suddenly fluttered and unfurled, appearing like a piece of burning cloud drifting open, obscuring the sky, overturning the sun and moon, and staining the earth with blood.

When Yu Liancheng's fist made contact with the cape, he felt a continuous, surging, and majestic vibrational force carried upon it, constantly eroding the power of his punch.

Yu Liancheng let out a cold snort and shook his arm. After a moment of stagnation, the energy hissed and exploded; the black-clad figure's cape shattered like torn silk, transforming into butterflies that scattered in all directions.

With a 'chi' sound, as if breaking through the final defense of the cape, this punch drove forward, slamming into the newcomer's back without any pretense.

The black-clad figure's body shook violently, and the ground beneath his feet shattered and sank. He was already sent flying, skimming onto the top of a two-story building, and cracks immediately began to spread across the structure, a shocking sight to behold.

Yu Liancheng's eyes narrowed; that punch, which was enough to cause mountains to collapse and rocks to shatter, had first been blocked by the red cape and then further dissipated, so likely only two or three tenths of the force actually acted upon the black-clad figure.

But even so, with his terrifying fist strength, it was enough to give this black-clad figure a hard time.

"Luosha Nu pays respects to the Sect Leader." Luosha Nu darted in front of the man and bowed in salute. Judging by the slight surprise on her face, she also seemed somewhat astonished by this person's arrival.

This person was none other than the Rakshasa Cult Leader, the contemporary Huoyun Xieshen, Xicheng Yong.

One could see that this Sect Leader's face was covered by a Rakshasa ghost mask, leaving only a pair of cold, indifferent eyes devoid of any human emotion. His hands were clasped behind his back; his figure was not particularly tall, but he exuded a domineering and powerful aura, more majestic and towering than a mountain.

"A fine 'Little Xicheng', so you were using me as cannon fodder, wanting to play the part of the fisherman while the snipe and the clam fight."

Huoyun Xieshen, who was in the middle of regulating his breath and healing his wounds, had a face as cold as frost. Then, as if remembering something, he looked at Yu Liancheng with an astonished gaze: "That's not right, kid, you were struck by my 'Soul-Severing Golden Lotus Needle', how are you still acting like nothing happened?"

"Of course, it is because I was never hit." Yu Liancheng smiled, flipped his palm, and a long, thin golden needle appeared in his hand, shining brilliantly in the sunlight, flickering with a luster like a venomous fang: "Just now, it was merely a ruse to lure the Rakshasa Cult Leader out."

The Rakshasa Cult Leader's face was covered by the black mask, making it impossible to see any expression, and his voice was cold: "You knew I had arrived long ago?"

"At the very beginning, I only had a guess. With your Rakshasa Cult's intelligence network, you would certainly know that my strength is not below that of Huoyun Xieshen. Only with you, the Rakshasa Cult Leader, arriving in person, could you ensure everything was foolproof."

Yu Liancheng said indifferently: "Before the formal exchange with Huoyun Xieshen, I intentionally mentioned the Rakshasa Cult Leader and said you were his illegitimate son. Although you hid it well, you faintly fluctuated, which I detected. Furthermore, even if I couldn't be certain, pretending to be injured by the old Xieshen to bait you was no trouble at all."

The old Xieshen's mouth twitched, and he cursed: "Fine, two little foxes."

As a veteran of the pugilistic world, being treated as a chess piece by these two youngsters, testing and calculating against each other, was simply a great humiliation.

But he had indeed been struck by one of Yu Liancheng's palms and was severely wounded. Facing either of them would not end well.

The old Xieshen's expression darkened, and he watched the situation quietly. He would wait for the two to clash and then immediately flee; once his injuries were healed, he would come back to settle scores with these two fellows.

The Rakshasa Cult Leader sighed lightly: "So that is how it is; it was this seat's oversight."

Yu Liancheng said indifferently: "For experts like us, sometimes a single oversight leads to eternal damnation."

"Eternal damnation! Heh." The Rakshasa Cult Leader sneered, his five fingers suddenly clenching into a fist, his spirit impacting the high heavens: "Even if there are ten thousand calamities, they shall be broken by this seat's fist."

"Unfortunately, you have encountered a death-calamity, and that death-calamity is me."

Yu Liancheng stomped his foot, and the ground seemed to be struck by ten thousand bolts of thunder, erupting with an earth-shattering roar, while he himself shot toward the Rakshasa Cult Leader like an arrow. Twisting his waist, his right leg swept horizontally toward his opponent.

And in the process of kicking this leg, a cruel and brutal aura dispersed, and an ocean formed of fresh blood appeared in the void, rolling with heaven-startling blood waves.

The sea of blood merged with the leg momentum, likewise sweeping toward Xicheng Yong; the waves exploded one after another, and it seemed as if blood-stained hands reached out from the sea of blood, carrying a bloody storm, intending to turn this world into a living hell.

The fourth form of the Tiancan Divine Skill: Sea of Blood Filling the Sky.

The Rakshasa Cult Leader snorted coldly, his figure suddenly erupting like black lightning, his single leg sweeping wildly, his momentum majestic and domineering, carrying rolling air currents as he kicked back. This was the move from his famous technique, the "Tyrant Leg"—domineering and tyrannical, carrying an unstoppable killing intent, possessing the power to shatter mountains and shock the world; if a God blocks, kill the God; if a Buddha blocks, kill the Buddha.

Bang bang bang bang!!

The two legs collided; in the blink of an eye, energy exploded, resembling bolts of lightning shattering and bursting out of thin air, colliding hundreds of times in an instant.

Luosha Nu felt her ears go deaf instantly, and the two figures before her eyes vanished simultaneously, as if they had disappeared into the void, yet the energy continued to explode.

"Time to go." The old Xieshen was also extremely decisive; although he also wanted to know which of the two was superior, that palm strike Yu Liancheng had landed on him was truly strange and eerie, and he had to carefully regulate his breath to recover.

However, just as the old Xieshen had dashed a few hundred meters away, he saw three figures flying in from the distance.

The two in the lead were a couple, about forty or fifty years old; the man had a wretched appearance, and the woman was stout. Following behind them was a lean young man, whose movement technique was also not weak.

For some reason, upon seeing that young man, Huoyun Xieshen could not help but feel his heart jump, feeling that the other party was his lifelong nemesis, and only by killing him could he feel satisfied.

At the moment when the two sides were about to cross paths, a killing intent flashed in Huoyun Xieshen's eyes, and without any warning, he struck a palm toward the young man.

Chapter 557: The Rakshasa Cult Leader