Chapter 142: Soul-Devouring Flying Dagger

Zhang Xiaofan made a decisive choice, abandoning the attempt to execute Mu Bai. His blood-red saber whipped back with lightning speed, pressing flat against his spine, just as the sharp ring of clashing weapons echoed through the air. Glancing backward, he spotted the flying dagger lying on the ground.

Fixing his gaze on the emblem engraved upon the blade, Zhang Xiaofan’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was none other than the Soul-Devouring Dagger, wielded by a Gold-rank assassin from the Assassin Leaderboard.

No one knew the true identity of the Soul-Devouring Dagger. Ever since joining Dragon Soul, Zhang Xiaofan had committed every single profile on the Assassin Leaderboard to memory.

No sooner had Zhang Xiaofan turned around than a succession of piercing whistles tore through the air, leaving behind only fleeting, shimmering arcs of blade-light.

Zhang Xiaofan’s pupils constricted. This flying dagger posed a genuine and grave threat to him. Judging from the spiritual energy emanating from the weapon, the assassin behind it was most likely a martial cultivator in the late stage of the Spirit-Opening Realm.

It seemed the Feng family had spared no effort in their determination to eliminate him!

With his concentration heightened to the absolute limit, Zhang Xiaofan spun his blood-red saber before him, weaving a dense net of blades to intercept the incoming projectiles. Yet, despite his defense, a single dagger pierced straight through the web of steel, aiming directly for his heart.

Just as the blade was about to sink into his chest, Zhang Xiaofan’s torso twisted in an almost miraculous contortion, allowing him to narrowly evade the fatal strike.

Even so, the blade still carved a bloody gash across his left flank.

"You really do surprise me. To think you could shatter my Seven Fatal Slashes," a gloomy voice laced with a hint of astonishment rang out at that very moment.

Out of the night shadows stepped a figure draped in a crimson trench coat. Their features were obscured, but glowing eyes radiating a blood-red sheen were clearly visible.

Rumor had it that the Soul-Devouring Dagger always wore a crimson trench coat and possessed blood-red eyes. There could be no doubt—this was him.

"You're going to be surprised by a lot more," Zhang Xiaofan said coldly.

At that instant, dozens of figures surged out of the darkness to surround Zhang Xiaofan, causing his brow to furrow deeply.

Right then, a deafening roar of engines shattered the nocturnal stillness—the unified roar of motorcycles and automobiles.

Moments later, a vanguard of motorcycles came tearing down the road, followed closely by a fleet of cars. Though they were ordinary, low-cost vehicles, they were driven with reckless, flying momentum.

At the very front, Zhang Xiaofan caught sight of a familiar face. With slightly chubby cheeks, the young man looked somewhat like a steamed bun—exuding an air of inherent gentleness—yet his narrowed eyes radiated a fierce and chilling intent.

There was no mistaking him; this was Baozi. Three years had passed, and Baozi had grown significantly more composed, tempered with a razor-sharp edge.

"Beat them to a pulp!"

Baozi bellowed the command the moment he arrived. Without hesitation, his subordinates charged straight at the Feng family's enforcers, igniting a chaotic brawl. More and more of Baozi’s men flooded the scene, some even arriving in hailed taxicabs.

Having dispatched the dozen or so thugs in his immediate vicinity, Zhang Xiaofan hoisted his massive saber and strode toward the Soul-Devouring Dagger.

An opponent of this caliber was the ideal whetstone for his abilities. Zhang Xiaofan was genuinely eager to encounter such adversaries, using them as a catalyst to forcefully break through into the late stage of the Spirit-Opening Realm.

"You're that eager to die?" the Soul-Devouring Dagger stared coldly at Zhang Xiaofan, his voice frigid.

"What a ridiculous question. You came here to kill me, so why shouldn't I kill you?" Zhang Xiaofan retorted coldly.

"Heh, fair enough. But do you really think you have what it takes to kill me?" the Soul-Devouring Dagger mocked contemptuously. "Just because you managed to swat away my Seven Fatal Slashes, you think you're invincible? Now, I'll show you why they call me the Soul-Devouring Dagger..."

With those words, his crimson trench coat suddenly billowed wildly. In the next instant, a barrage of silver blade-light materialized out of the darkness, shooting toward Zhang Xiaofan with ferocious speed!

In a single breath, the Soul-Devouring Dagger unleashed a full hundred flying blades! What terrifying mastery!

The swarm of daggers completely blanketed Zhang Xiaofan, sending a chilling, ominous aura rippling through his heart.

Zhang Xiaofan’s eyes turned glacial. He slammed his right foot hard against the pavement and charged directly into the heart of the blade array.

"Absolute suicide..." the Soul-Devouring Dagger muttered in scorn.

This was his signature ultimate technique, a force nearly unrivaled beneath the Void-Breaking Realm. Not only had this fellow failed to flee, but he had actually dared to charge head-on into the assault. If that wasn't suicide, what was?

Yet, as Zhang Xiaofan pressed forward, his blood-red saber swept through the air in a continuous flurry, deflecting as many daggers as possible to protect his vital organs. Even so, several blades buried themselves deep into his arms, and another tore through his left shoulder, sending blood gushing forth unchecked.

Though he had only advanced less than ten meters, a cold smirk suddenly played across Zhang Xiaofan’s lips. Underneath the frantically contracting gaze of the Soul-Devouring Dagger, a series of shrill, piercing shrieks ripped through the whistling wind.

A volley of silver needles shot through the microscopic gaps between the flying daggers, hurtling toward the assassin with a velocity that vastly outpaced the blades themselves. By the time the Soul-Devouring Dagger registered the threat, the needles had already breached the one-meter perimeter around his body!

The assassin’s expression underwent a dramatic shift. He recoiled violently backward, his hands moving with blinding speed to grip his remaining daggers, desperately trying to swat away the needles that moved even faster than his retreating form.

Yet, he had severely underestimated Zhang Xiaofan’s needles. Although a large portion were beaten away, several needles punched straight through his desperate defense and sank deep into his flesh.

They pierced entirely through his body, particularly three needles that emanated a searing, fiery glow. As they bored through the Soul-Devouring Dagger's torso, the tiny wounds they left behind began to rapidly expand.

Before the assassin's eyes, wide with sheer terror, his physical flesh and blood began to dissolve as if melting away.

"What kind of unholy monstrosity is this?!" the Soul-Devouring Dagger shrieked in absolute horror.

"Take that question down to the underworld..."

The terrifying technique of the Soul-Devouring Dagger relied entirely on the absolute synchronization of essence, qi, and spirit, with the projectiles remaining under the partial control of his willpower.

Now, severely wounded and gripped by mortal terror, his consciousness faltered, and the flying daggers instantly lost their lethal potency.

Just as Zhang Xiaofan’s voice faded, a arc of crimson blade-light descended like a falling guillotine. A geyser of blood erupted, and the head of the Soul-Devouring Dagger was cleanly severed from his shoulders.

Pitiable as he was, this Gold-rank assassin from the leaderboard had met his end simply because he had vastly overestimated himself.

Channeling spiritual energy into his palm, Zhang Xiaofan drew back the silver needles that had previously been scattered across the area, collecting and storing them properly.

He rummaged through the dead assassin's pockets, only to find him a pauper with nothing of value save for a few basic healing piauies.

Next, Zhang Xiaofan pulled the embedded daggers from his own body, triggering a fresh surge of blood that dyed his clothes crimson. Deciding it was for the best, he tore off his ruined undershirt and used the fabric to tightly bind his wounds.

His eyes swept coldly across the battlefield, where nearly a thousand people were locked in a chaotic melee.

Casualties were mounting on both sides. The forces brought by Baozi were clearly at a disadvantage; in terms of sheer combat quality, they still lagged behind the enforcers of the Feng family, who reigned as the undisputed overlords of the North District.

"Kill!"

Zhang Xiaofan roared coldly and lunged forward into the fray.

To the Feng family, this faction was a vital pillar of power. Tonight, he intended to sever one of the Feng family's arms entirely!

"Brother Fan!"

Seeing Zhang Xiaofan plunge into battle, Baozi shouted with excitement.

"Let's settle old scores after we finish these bastards..." Zhang Xiaofan said softly.

"Understood! Slaughter these sons of bitches!" Baozi bellowed.

Moving with blinding speed, Baozi swung his blade, sending splashes of blood flying in every direction. His combat prowess was beyond question.

Charging alongside him, Zhang Xiaofan waded deep into the enemy lines.

With these two fierce titans cutting through the ranks, the tide of battle began to turn. Terror was finally taking root among the ranks of the Feng family...

As for Mu Bai, the moment the Soul-Devouring Dagger was slain, he had already turned and fled.

If even a Gold-rank assassin from the leaderboard was no match for Zhang Xiaofan, staying behind would be no different from courting death.

Moreover, Mu Bai was utterly stunned by the sudden appearance of these reinforcements; he had no inkling of where this faction had materialized from.

In truth, neither the Feng family nor the overlords of the other districts had any prior knowledge of Baozi’s organization. They lived quietly among the alleys and streets, blending into the background entirely unnoticed.

Beneath the night sky, the roar of battle, the clang of steel, and the agonized cries of the wounded merged into a cacophony of slaughter, turning the ground slick with rivers of blood.

In the end, wherever Zhang Xiaofan and Baozi carved a path, the Feng family members dropped their weapons and fled in a panic.

They were genuinely terrified. With one leader dead and the other having abandoned them, they were utterly powerless against these two gods of death. Even if they fought to the bitter end, no one would ever know...

Consequently, more and more men cast away their weapons and surrendered, dropping to their knees to beg for their lives, while those who could run had long since scattered.

At least two hundred men knelt upon the blood-stained earth, not even daring to raise their heads to look at Zhang Xiaofan, who stood holding his dripping, blood-red saber.