I Am Your Natural Enemy

Chapter 447: Chapter 185: Sharpen the Edge, Vanquish the Evil Again (5k)_2

But at this moment, the surroundings temporarily reverted to what they once were, and the Corpse Poison became useful.

One after another, knights collapsed to the ground, floundering twice before lying still. They turned into skeletons, and the wind eventually blew their bones into dust, scattering them into the air.

The only things left were a group of restive horses, standing in a daze. At that moment, Wen Yan rode up on his warhorse, which neighed. At the sound, the horses galloped off into the distance, no longer returning to the city.

Within the city walls, the Serpent Crown Cult Leader’s cold eyes seemed to perceive the outcome of the battle outside.

The elite knights he sent out, no longer suppressed by Yang Energy, were still single-handedly annihilated by the enemy, something he couldn’t fathom.

In his era, within the Divine Land Dynasty, there wasn’t a unified term for martial artists. Most skills were crude military tactics with no sophistication, focusing on blunt efficiency and brute force for killing the enemy.

For the most part, it was still an era where physical endurance was paramount, while the so-called school of Alchemy Dao from the Taoist Sect had not yet emerged.

Divine Skills and Daoist Skills were revered; martial artists, Taoists, and monks didn’t compete in the same league.

It was true that individually brave warriors capable of fighting hundreds were not unheard of, but these were almost invariably of natural Divine Power and exceptional bravery, certainly not of a lean build like Wen Yan.

Back then, none of the fierce warriors who charged into battle were lean; their battles relied not on Yang Energy but on sheer physical strength.

The Serpent Crown Cult Leader, with his limited perception, couldn’t understand why Wen Yan was so fiercely potent, or why his spit was so toxically deadly.

Nor could he grasp why someone with such strong Yang Energy, undoubtedly a living person, would appear in such a place.

But he knew he couldn’t let Wen Yan simply storm into the city because someone as brave as Wen Yan would surely make it to his presence.

The Serpent Crown Cult Leader commanded his followers, who had reverted to their living states, to gather one by one around the altar, where fervent disciples chanted for the return to the Sacred Fire and perished on the altar.

Blood continuously pooled together. The Serpent Crown Cult Leader glanced back at the Sacred Fire atop the high tower, burning more furiously, with ravenous flames whipping wildly and leaping out of the tower into the sky.

Time was too short, and the resources here far too scarce to enhance the Sacred Fire.

A swift resolution was imperative; otherwise, the power of the Sacred Fire wouldn’t last.

The Serpent Crown Cult Leader stood solemnly on the altar, his hands gripping the Scepter thrust into its center, blood flowing continuously from his hands into the altar.

Accompanied by the sinister chanting of incomprehensible Curse Scriptures, all the followers in the city prostrated themselves, joining in the chanting.

The malevolent power spread like ripples, and with each expansion, the land outside the city underwent a transformation.

The greenery on the grasslands withered and new plants sprang forth rapidly, a cycle of decay and growth as if time itself were lapsing.

After changing dozens of times in quick succession, everything suddenly froze.

Wen Yan raised his head; the clear blue sky that was once visible had disappeared.

The sky turned a somber yellow, and the air was filled with an ominous aura, along with an indescribable divine pressure descending upon him.

The very earth trembled faintly.

Wen Yan turned to look back and saw behind him a wall of sandstorm, massive as if connecting heaven and earth, rapidly advancing toward him.

The sandstorm was even laced with lightning, its rumbling thunder echoing alongside the terrifying pressure, leaving Wen Yan gasping for air.

As the sandstorm approached at a frenzied pace, the earth’s shuddering grew more violent.

Just as Wen Yan was about to spur his horse into a frantic run to escape, he froze.

Amidst the tumultuous sandstorm wall, a striking shade of red faintly appeared.

Perched atop his horse, Wen Yan narrowed his eyes, trying to get a clearer view.

After a few breaths, he saw her clearly.

A woman dressed in a blood-red gown, donning a Phoenix Crown and a red veil over her face.

Trailing behind her, her gown billowed, and ribbons fluttered with the wind. Her bare feet touched down, and the sand beneath rose to greet her steps, carrying her forward step by step.

The expansive sandstorm seemed like a colossal pet tethered by her two ribbons, following her every move.

Wen Yan’s heart raced uncontrollably; every cell in his body seemingly urging him to flee.

That divine pressure was akin to a God, the strongest he had ever felt. The sense of imminent danger was so pronounced that no senses were needed to know that, regardless of his abilities, he had no choice but to run.

There’s a saying: Water can extinguish fire, but excessive fire can evaporate water.

Against someone so powerful, even a natural counterbalance assumes that there isn’t a vast disparity in strength.

Wen Yan steadied his mind and leaped off his horse.

He patted the horse on the neck.

”Good horse, keep your distance. In this situation, I might not be able to protect you.”

The horse nudged Wen Yan with its head, urging him to mount and hurry away.

”Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, this is one of my family elders...”

He tried to get the horse to leave, but it refused to go, nervously pawing at the ground and tugging at Wen Yan’s clothes, determined to drag him away.