Chapter 216: Zhu Wuyan

The blurred blood shadow flew two zhang away, spun once, then regained its stance unharmed, eyeing Wang Yu with surprise.

Wang Yu also retracted his fist and foot, regarding the figure within the blurred bloodlight with equal alarm.

What exactly was this opponent's body? To ignore the Wind and Fire Chant's attack was one thing, but my kick passed straight through it as if it had no physical form—this was too absurd.

Just now, my punch wrapped in Golden Yang Poison Qi had some effect, but the sensation of striking the opponent's face felt deeply wrong, as if hitting a thick layer of water—the force was halved, even more.

At that moment, the blurred blood figure seemed still unwilling to believe it had been struck; its form blurred again, then shot forward as a faint shadow.

But Wang Yu, at once drew a deep breath, let out a low roar, and his body suddenly swelled larger; with a single flip of his hand, a long green-red blade appeared in his grip.

His wrist flicked once.

Instantly, a hissing sound filled the air as countless green-red blade shadows materialized before him, then vanished in a flash, sweeping over the blurred blood figure like a net.

The blood shadow remained unharmed; after a blur, it reappeared before Wang Yu, arms wide, face twisted in ferocity, lunging to embrace him.

Wang Yu's pupils contracted; his long blade vanished, and both arms trembled.

The next instant, piercing shrieks erupted from the surrounding void as countless pale golden fist shadows materialized before him, raining down like a storm upon the blood figure.

The blood figure's surface suddenly blazed crimson; concentric rings of crimson aura rippled outward, and the pale golden fist shadows struck them—each one flickered and dissolved instantly, yielding not a shred of effect.

"Ha ha!"

Seeing this, the blood figure roared with laughter, blurred once more, its body wreathed in shimmering crimson auras, and thrust both arms forward again to embrace him.

Wang Yu's eyes flashed with crystalline light; he did not retreat but stepped half a pace forward, and the pale golden mist enveloping his golden armor rolled forward in a surge, colliding instantly with the crimson aura—producing a screeching "szzz" like metal grinding.

The blood figure felt a colossal force thrusting against it, as if trying to shove it back; it grunted, formed a hand seal, and its blurred form solidified into clarity, then stepped half a pace forward as well.

"Boom!"

Two immense forces exploded between Wang Yu and the blood figure—one side, pale golden mist boiling furiously; the other, crimson auras spinning wildly.

At such close range, Wang Yu finally saw the opponent's true form clearly.

The now-revealed blood figure was a monstrous man clad in a blood-red robe; every exposed part of his body was desiccated, flayed flesh—his entire head, even his facial features, bore not an inch of intact skin, terrifying and grotesque, nearly unbearable to look upon.

Wang Yu had weathered many storms, yet seeing this demon-like visage, every hair on his body stood on end; for a moment, he could not find words to describe it.

"Heh heh, seeing me like this, you're afraid, aren't you? No matter—I'll peel your skin off bit by bit once I capture you, turn you into something just like me, then you won't be afraid anymore." The blood monster seemed to read something in Wang Yu's face; his eyes flickered with madness as he emitted a low, twisted chuckle.

He suddenly stepped half a pace forward; his body turned vividly crimson, and rings of crimson aura surged outward like tidal waves, unleashing an even more terrifying power from within.

Wang Yu's expression shifted slightly; he exhaled sharply, and a white mist surged forth, his upper body swelling another full circle—his upper garments tore apart, revealing a vivid tiger-head pattern on his back, which rapidly turned pale gold, unleashing an equally terrifying force that surged along the pale golden mist toward the opponent.

A deafening, earth-shattering crash.

The two figures, as the pale golden mist and crimson aura exploded simultaneously, each stepped backward on empty air, staggering several paces apart.

Before the blood monster could steady his stance, he pointed a finger at Wang Yu; his fingertip turned jet-black, then exploded into a cloud of blood mist—a black streak shot toward Wang Yu at an indescribable speed, vanishing in a flash.

At the same instant, Wang Yu did not halt his retreat; he flipped his hand, and two emerald-green daggers appeared between his fingers; their blades flashed crimson, his arm swelled thickly, and his wrist snapped sharply.

"Swoosh." "Swoosh."

The two emerald-green daggers vanished from his fingers.

"Bang!"

"Plop." "Plop."

Wang Yu felt a sudden heat in his chest—a jet-black finger slammed into the golden armor covering his body, shattering its surface instantly, then struck the "qi membrane" beneath, exploding into a mass of black blood mist.

His unsteady body was forced another step backward before he regained his stance; he quickly looked down in shock and fury at his chest.

There, a large hole gaped in the golden armor; a tangle of black blood threads writhed inside, like living things desperately burrowing toward his chest—yet they were halted by the thick, transparent "qi membrane" beneath.

On the other side, the blood monster grunted; two emerald-green daggers pierced his forehead and throat—rapidly, the emerald poison spread, turning the surrounding flesh the same color.

"Impressive—you actually stopped my Black Spirit Finger."

The blood monster showed no panic; instead, his expression grew calm as he praised, then moved his arms, yanking out both daggers and tossing them carelessly to the ground.

Then, with a backward grip, he tore away large chunks of emerald-green flesh from each wound; as the crimson aura swept over them, fresh flesh grew instantly, scabbed over, and healed completely.

Seeing this, Wang Yu's face darkened; he formed a hand seal, and crimson light flared around his body, sweeping over his chest to ignite into roaring flames, burning the black blood threads to ash—then he regarded the blood monster with renewed gravity.

"Seems I underestimated you. You're worthy to leave your name before you die—I am Zhu Wuyan, Third True Disciple of the Mo Luo Sect, destined to become a Golden Core Ancestor." The blood monster stood on empty air, tilted his neck, stretched his limbs, then spoke to Wang Yu with cool indifference.