After taking down one cultivator, Feng Fan barely had time to catch his breath before two more closed in on him without a word. Both wore the robes of the Black Turtle Sect.
’At least these two aren’t idiots; they didn’t waste time talking.’
They were both body cultivators, closing the distance in a flash, each aiming for one of Feng Fan’s sides.
Feng Fan smiled and remained still, waiting until their fists were mere inches from his body. Then, with a single step, he vanished.
Shock flashed across the disciples’ faces as their target disappeared right before their eyes.
"What the—?"
"Looking for me?" Feng Fan’s voice came from behind one of them, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Before the disciple could react, a powerful strike sent him flying. Unlike the previous opponent, he didn’t breach the barrier but collapsed unconscious on the ground. An elder quickly stepped in, carrying him away for treatment.
The remaining disciple glared at Feng Fan, fury burning in his eyes. "You—"
He lunged, lifting his leg for an upward kick. But his strike hit nothing but air—Feng Fan had already sidestepped with ease.
Before the disciple could retreat his leg, Feng Fan’s hook connected cleanly with the side of his head.
That was all it took. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Feng Fan looked down at him, his brow furrowing. "Aren’t these guys body cultivators? Why are they so… weak?"
In truth, the body cultivators of the Black Turtle Sect were the strongest in the entire Black Turtle Continent. It wasn’t that they were weak, but Feng Fan’s cultivation technique was simply too powerful.
"Divine Wind Slash!"
"Fire God Spear!"
In the midst of the chaotic battle, no one had time to catch their breath. Feng Fan turned to see two more opponents rushing toward him—one wielding a spear engulfed in flames, the other gliding through the air with a sword, carried by the wind.
For the first time since the fight began, Feng Fan retrieved the Suppression Relic from his space ring.
"Alright, Little Brick, it’s your time to shine!" he murmured with a faint smirk.
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The swordsman reached him first, his blade surging with powerful wind currents and sharp sword intent, threatening to cleave Feng Fan in half with a single strike.
But Feng Fan remained unfazed. He calmly raised his brick.
Steel met stone, and the outcome was clear for all to see.
The swordsman’s arms trembled violently from the backlash. His eyes widened in disbelief—how had a mere 4th-stage Nascent Soul cultivator not only blocked his attack but overpowered him so effortlessly?
He instinctively tried to retreat, desperate for a moment to recover.
But would Feng Fan allow it?
"Who said you could leave?" Feng Fan’s eyes narrowed, locking onto his prey.
"Wind Steps!" the swordsman screamed, invoking his technique to escape.
Strong gusts of wind swirled beneath the swordsman’s feet, propelling him away from Feng Fan in a desperate attempt to escape.
Seeing this, Feng Fan channeled his spiritual qi into the Suppression Relic and hurled it toward him.
The moment the relic flew toward him, the swordsman’s eyes widened in panic. He hastily raised his sword, hoping to block the attack. But just as the relic was about to collide with his blade, it shifted slightly to the side—before slamming directly into his face.
The swordsman didn’t even have time to process what had happened before he collapsed, blood streaming from his broken nose.
Just as the swordsman was struck by the Suppression Relic, the spearman’s spear was mere inches from Feng Fan’s body.
Knowing the Suppression Relic wouldn’t return in time, Feng Fan pointed at the spearman and invoked his new technique.
Return to Origin!
The spearman noticed Feng Fan casting the spell but didn’t flinch. Retreat wasn’t a word in his vocabulary, only advance!
But his confidence faltered when his spear and space ring vanished in an instant.
He froze in front of Feng Fan, bewildered. "W-What happened?"
Feng Fan didn’t answer, only smiling faintly. It didn’t take long for the spearman to feel a sudden gust of wind hitting his private parts. He looked down and, to his horror, realized he was completely naked.
"Hey, who’s that pervert? Who dares to fight around naked?"
"Dammit, no amount of soap or therapy can undo this trauma this man just made me suffer!"
Nearby cultivators stared in disgust, making the spearman’s fury and embarrassment grow even more intense.
"Y-You!" The spearman glared at Feng Fan, trying desperately to cover himself.
Feng Fan casually placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a mock, accusatory look. "Brother, even if you have this... fetish, shouldn’t you indulge in it at a more appropriate occasion?"
The spearman couldn’t handle the humiliation any longer. His cultivation spiraled out of control, causing him to cough up blood and collapse with a thud on the ground.
Feng Fan shook his head, using the Cleaning Immortal Arts to wipe the blood off his robes.
’This Return to Origin technique isn’t bad... but it drains too much spiritual qi.’
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When he used the technique to erase the man’s spear, clothes, and space ring, Feng Fan noticed that 80% of his spiritual qi had been depleted.
’Most of my qi was wasted on the space ring and weapon. Next time, I’ll avoid using it on the space ring, and I better not target high-quality weapons, or I might suffer a backlash.’
The Suppression Relic finally returned to Feng Fan’s hand, humming with excitement. It had tasted blood and seemed to crave more.
Feng Fan smiled wryly. "Little Brick, aren’t you turning into quite the sadist? Don’t let Xiao’er influence you too much!"
"Oh? Are you talking about me?" A voice rang from behind Feng Fan, sending a chill down his spine.
He didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
"Sorry, I’ve got something important to do, Xiao’er. I’ll see you after the selection!"
Su Xiaoli chuckled at Feng Fan escaping. ’Fan’er, don’t escape, it only makes me more excited.’