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墨書 Inktalez
A warm force surged into Lian Ma's body, repairing his damaged form while igniting the flames of anger within him. He felt his strength continuously rising, as if the entire world was now under his control.
When the old man withdrew his hand, Lian Ma was already on his feet. His eyes sparkled with a fierce brilliance, a mixture of rage, madness, and power. With all his injuries healed, Lian Ma knelt before the elder, filled with gratitude and reverence. He deeply bowed three times, his forehead touching the ground, and in that moment, he felt as if he could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat resonating with the earth.
As he rose, he gazed intently at the old man, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Immortal, please tell me your esteemed name. I will remember it for life. If I achieve anything in the future, I will surely repay you."
The elder smiled faintly, a hint of mystery and depth in his expression. He gently shook his head and said, "Just call me Yan Wang." As for repayment, I only pity you; I do not seek anything in return. I only hope that in this chaotic world, you will not suffer bullying because of your weakness."
With that, the old man's figure gradually blurred, as if merging into the air, leaving behind a hearty laughter echoing in the atmosphere.
"Yan Wang," Lian Ma murmured this name to himself, feeling an indescribable shock surge within him. Just as he was about to ask more questions, he noticed that the elder had completely vanished, leaving only a faint reverberation lingering in the empty space.
Just as Lian Ma was lost in thought, a cacophony of footsteps shattered the surrounding silence. A group of Asura Clan members had approached without him noticing; their faces twisted into sinister smiles, their eyes gleaming with schadenfreude.
Leading them were those who had mocked Lian Ma most viciously before; they clearly hadn't expected him to suddenly stand up. For a moment they were taken aback but quickly regained their arrogant demeanor.
"Oh look, isn't this our useless Lian Ma? What’s this? Finished worshipping your deity? Do you think that will make you stronger?" one of them sneered mockingly, prompting laughter from those around him.
Others chimed in with similar taunts. "Looks like we didn’t beat him hard enough; he’s back on his feet! Let’s just kill him this time and stop this bleeding."
Lian Ma ignored their jeers and stood silently with his head bowed as if gathering some kind of power within himself. However, when he lifted his head again, the once defiant light in his eyes had transformed into an eerie red glow—like two burning flames—emanating an oppressive aura that sent chills down their spines.
The members of the Asura Clan around him stopped laughing, a sense of foreboding spreading in their hearts. The leader of the Asura Clan spat disdainfully and cursed, "Pretending to be mysterious? Just wait until I knock your teeth out!"
With that, he charged towards Lian Ma, fists raised. However, what happened next left everyone speechless.
Before their astonished eyes, Lian Ma's body rapidly expanded, his muscles seemingly shaped by an invisible hand, becoming sinewy and powerful in an instant. Beneath his skin, dark currents surged, revealing an ancient and primal force. His height surged by several feet, transforming him into a giant surrounded by a violent aura.
"What kind of power is this?" someone shouted in terror.
Lian Ma did not respond; instead, he opened his mouth to reveal a ferocious grin.
Steam erupted from his mouth with a hiss. He slowly raised his fist, resembling a giant hammer, aiming it at the foremost member of the Asura Clan.
With a deafening roar, the Asura Clan member didn’t even have time to scream before he was sent flying by a single punch, crashing against the distant stone wall, lifeless.
This scene utterly shocked everyone present; they had never witnessed such terrifying power before. Lian Ma seemed like a true Asura, each step shaking the ground beneath him, each punch accompanied by earth-shattering force.
He no longer avoided or endured; instead, he took the initiative to strike back with his powerful fists against those who had once humiliated and mocked him.
"Die! Die! Die!" he muttered repeatedly.
The battle escalated in an instant as Lian Ma became like a wild beast rampaging through the Asura Clan members. Each of his attacks was precise and lethal; those who had once laughed at his kin now appeared so weak in the face of his strength.
Blood and cries of anguish wove together into a brutal tapestry, while Lian Ma's gaze grew colder and colder, as if he intended to unleash all his anger and humiliation in this endless slaughter.
Amidst this bloody massacre, Lian Ma felt an unusual calm within himself. Watching the suffering and screaming individuals beside him filled him with immense excitement.
He knew that he was undergoing a transformation, one forged from pain and anger. The source of it all was the power granted to him by the one who called himself Yan Wang Lao Ren. He silently vowed that no matter what came his way, he would use this power to change a world where strength reigned supreme and the weak were preyed upon.
Lian Ma moved across the battlefield like a rampaging war machine, clearing everything in his path. With every punch thrown and every step taken, enemies fell, accompanied by their cries of despair. Finally, when the last scream faded into the air, silence enveloped the battlefield.
Surrounding him were the bodies of Asura Clan warriors, their blood staining the earth, and the air was thick with the stench of death, making one feel nauseous. Lian Ma stood at the center of the battlefield, surrounded by an aura of ferocity. His gaze shifted from madness back to clarity, yet the newfound strength and determination within him were even more resolute.
He surveyed his surroundings, confirming that there were no survivors left. Taking a deep breath, he turned and left this bloody scene behind. Though his steps were steady, they carried an unusual firmness.
However, just as his figure began to fade from sight, an unusual silhouette quietly approached the battlefield—one adorned with an Iron Mask. The mask was thick and cold, revealing only two deep-set eyes that seemed capable of perceiving all secrets of the world.
He slowly stepped onto the battlefield, his gaze sweeping over the devastation before him. A flicker of contemplation crossed his eyes.
"Trouble," he murmured to himself, his voice muffled by the mask. This scene was no coincidence; Old Shura King must have some hidden agenda brewing. It seemed that peaceful days were about to come to an end.
He crouched down to examine several corpses closely, particularly focusing on the details of their fatal wounds in an attempt to uncover more clues.
Beneath the Iron Mask, his eyes grew sharper: "I must report this matter to New Shura King as soon as possible. It seems Blood Emperor has placed bets on both sides; this turmoil is likely more complicated than we imagined."
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