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墨書 Inktalez
This sentence carries a sense of determination, along with a hint of helplessness and confusion.
Suddenly!
A match struck, illuminating the dark night like a shooting star.
Boom!
The match fell, igniting the gasoline spilled on the ground. Flames surged upward, engulfing the house and wrapping around his son inside.
With the gasoline fueling it, the fire spread rapidly. The roaring flames quickly climbed up the house, enveloping it completely.
In the pitch-black night, the appearance of such a blaze was like a guiding light, visible from afar.
"Is that over there..." Master Rosen also spotted the glaring flames from a distance, narrowing his eyes slightly, his voice low and chilling.
The flames had just appeared and did not cause much panic. After all, most people were asleep at this hour; perhaps they wouldn't even wake if the fire reached their homes. Those who were awake, both inside and outside, had already been slaughtered.
The fire burned behind him.
The middle-aged man didn’t even glance back, his eyes fixed ahead.
"No matter who you are, since you killed my son, as a father, I cannot pretend I didn't see." His deep, hoarse voice was filled with profound sorrow and a hint of concealed anger, like a volcano brewing, waiting to erupt.
Crack! Crack!
The high temperature of the flames caused the wooden structure of the house to creak and groan.
Across from him, a young man in black stopped in his tracks, his lifeless eyes staring at the middle-aged man opposite him.
"Everything has its cause and effect. Since you have sown the seeds of fate, it is only a matter of time before the corresponding consequences arrive." His cold voice was as if narrating a story, devoid of any ripples or emotions.
His words left the middle-aged man somewhat puzzled.
"Who are you? I don't believe I have offended you."
"Do you remember the bloodshed from years ago? The scene of the entire village being slaughtered is something you cannot forget, right?"
The middle-aged man frowned slightly; he completely did not understand what the other was talking about. What bloodshed? What slaughter of an entire village? This was all new to him.
Seeing that the other person did not seem to be lying, it appeared that this matter had no direct connection to him.
"Perhaps that incident was localized, and not everyone knows about it," Ye Mingshang thought to himself.
"It seems you were not involved in that incident. However, joining the Black Witch Cult is your mistake. The consequences of this mistake will lead to your destruction..."
Listening to the killing intent in the other person's voice, the middle-aged man raised his gun.
Clang!
Though the gun was damaged, it produced a clear sound when swung, proclaiming its uniqueness.
"You may have your reasons for doing this," the middle-aged man said hoarsely, keeping his eyes fixed on the other. "But I also have my undeniable reasons for this battle."
As the voice fell, the middle-aged man's body moved accordingly.
Step~ step~ step~ step~
The sound of hurried and powerful footsteps echoed as the middle-aged man quickly rushed forward with small strides.
A distance of more than ten meters was covered in just a breath's time.
When he was three meters away from his opponent,
Swish!
The Spear Tip shot out, like a Spirit Serpent instantly straightening its body.
Hiss!~
His footsteps suddenly halted, but due to the sudden burst of force, his speed did not slow down much; instead, it generated even greater explosive power.
The rusted Spear Tip resembled the fangs of a venomous snake, symbolizing danger and death.
Clang!~
Accompanied by a light sound, the Spear Tip was opened.
Ye Mingshang had no weapon in hand; it was not anything else that opened the Spear Tip but one of his fingers.
When the Spear Tip approached, there was not a trace of panic in his eyes; they remained as calm and still as stagnant water.
The left hand extended, leaving out the Index Finger and Middle Finger. The two fingers intertwined, and the Index Finger lightly flicked against the Spear Tip, yet it carried an irresistible force.
This powerful thrust, imbued with a heavy intent to kill, was surprisingly deflected by a single finger.
"Indeed very strong!" Even the middle-aged man, who had remained calm despite his son’s death and the presence of his enemies, showed a moment of surprise.
However, this surprise lasted only an instant before he returned to his usual composure.
His opponent was strong; he had known that from the beginning. After all, someone who could silently kill his son, who was not much weaker than himself, and take down numerous companions could not be an ordinary character.
His astonishment was merely due to the unexpected strength of his opponent.
His own abilities were decent but merely decent; even his son, who had Surpassed the Master, was close to surpassing him. His own strength relied heavily on this gun, the Ancestral Gun that had been passed down to him.
Legend has it that the owner of this gun once swept through the world undefeated with it but ultimately fell to one person.
It is said that the gun contains immense power capable of sweeping away all foes. Unfortunately, he could not wield it; in his hands, it was just a weapon.
Missing his shot was within his expectations; if he were to easily kill his opponent, that would have surprised him. After all, it would be strange for someone capable of silently killing so many people, including his son who was nearly equal in strength, to lack real skill.
With the Spear Tip deflected, the middle-aged man did not withdraw it but instead followed through with the momentum, turning both the gun and his body in a circle. He executed a small rotation and aimed again at his opponent's neck from an odd angle.
This bizarrely agile attack method resembled that of a venomous snake.
In an instant, he circled around his opponent's head from the left side and then struck at the right side of the neck.
What a cunning and vicious move! Such a tricky attack would likely decide victory or defeat against an ordinary person. Even some skilled fighters would find themselves flustered in defense.
However, this quick and agile attack fell into Ye Mingshang's eyes as if it were in slow motion, and he easily avoided it.
This was not a fair duel.
With a slight shift of his body, the Spear Tip passed just two centimeters from his neck.
To the opponent, this speed seemed like a blur, suddenly creating an afterimage.
As the Spear Tip swept by, there was no time to ponder anything; he grabbed the tail of the spear with both hands.
Step~ Step~
With a light push of his feet, he spun on the spot, using the power of the Gun Body to propel himself.
This time, the Spearhead did not sweep from one side but shot forward like a Spirit Serpent, rotating as it aimed directly at the opponent's chest.
This thrust was both swift and urgent.
Subtly, it seemed as if air currents were swirling.
In response to such an attack from Face, Ye Mingshang appeared to slowly raise his hand. Then, he reached for the spinning Spearhead. (To be continued.)
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