The Martial God who started at Mantuo Manor

Page 149

In addition, there are two core elements: indestructibility and the free flow of true qi.

What if... what if it were used as a "suction" pipe?

An even more insane and horrifying plan took shape in his mind: the Xuanming Cold Poison is yin in nature, sinks downwards, and gathers in the dantian; while the meridians of the human body are the gateways for communication between the inside and outside.

If you can connect Zhao Min's "mouth" directly with the "root" of your own yang energy, forming a cycle... then you can reverse your energy flow, using the extremely yang evil fire in your spear as bait, to slowly "fish out" the extremely yin cold poison from her mouth!

The extracted cold poison will be neutralized and burned away the moment it comes into contact with one's spear by the even more domineering "Clear and Melancholy Wind" evil fire attached to it!

In this way, he could both save her and use this "neutralization" to eliminate the two toxins in his body!

"That's a good move... Let's see what happens!"

A fierce glint flashed in Wang Meng's eyes.

Without further hesitation, he withdrew his hands from behind her back.

The interruption of her true energy caused her already weak life force to be suppressed again by the cold poison, and a faint bluish-black layer appeared on her pale face.

He picked up Zhao Minna's body and roughly adjusted her position, trying to make her sit up against the headboard. The movement was so violent that Zhao Minna's numb body was like a rag doll being manipulated at will.

As he lifted her upper body, her waist was forced to bend, and her legs slid off helplessly.

As her body posture changed, the dark valley behind her, which he had previously brutally opened and ravaged, was now red and swollen, and could no longer hold back what he had left behind.

A thick, milky-white liquid, mixed with traces of blood, slowly and uncontrollably overflowed from the depths of that tightly closed, scarred forbidden area.

It wasn't a stream, but a wisp.

A wisp of aggressive, most filthy evidence of his conquest and possession.

He finally managed to position her in a reclining position, letting her limp body lean against the cold headboard.

Her head was tilted to one side, her long, black hair hanging down in disarray, obscuring half of her pale face, revealing only her beautifully shaped chin and her eyelashes trembling slightly with pain.

Her legs were slightly open due to her weakness.

Presenting a completely defenseless and vulnerable posture, revealing all the evidence of the fierce battle between the two.

Everything was exposed without reservation to the dim candlelight.

Wang Meng himself knelt in front of the bed, a position that brought him level with Zhao Min's head.

He reached out and roughly grabbed Zhao Min's chin, forcing her to raise her head slightly.

Perhaps his movements startled her, for Zhao Min's long eyelashes trembled a few times, and she slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes were still unfocused, filled with the weakness of someone recovering from a serious illness, but when she saw Wang Meng's face, so close to hers, filled with madness and determination, a deep-seated fear and hatred resurfaced in the depths of her pupils.

"What...are you going to...do now...?"

Her voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

Wang Meng did not answer her.

He simply declared his intentions through his actions.

He loosened one hand and untied the belt he had just tied.

The enormous spear, now scorching hot and hardened again by the rekindling of the evil fire, suddenly stood proudly before him and Zhao Min once more.

It was even more ferocious than before, because due to the conflict between the ice and fire forces within its body, the surface of the purplish-red spear was even surrounded by a layer of visible, faint white cold air and red heat waves.

"Open your mouth."

Wang Meng spoke coldly in a commanding tone.

Zhao Min's pupils suddenly contracted!

She instantly understood Wang Meng's intention!

That beast, that bastard!

He actually... he actually thought...

"You...don't even think about it!"

She used all her strength to squeeze out those two words through her teeth, then shut her mouth tightly.

"It's not up to you!" Mei, what do you want? Empty, Lin, are you there...?

A fierce glint flashed in Wang Meng's eyes, and he suddenly tightened his grip on her chin!

"Crack!"

With a soft crack, Zhao Min felt a sharp pain in her jawbone. Wang Meng had forcefully and roughly pried open her tightly clenched teeth!

"Ugh...!"

The excruciating pain caused her to let out a whimper, and tears welled up uncontrollably once again.

Is all of this... finally... over...?

Chapter 61: A Princess Who Knows When to Adversity, Blue Phoenix's Invitation!

The earth-shattering combined attack of the two Xuanming Elders.

It was like tearing a gap in an airtight iron cage.

They fled, covered in poison and wounds, and disappeared into the darkness of the alleyway.

But their escape was like removing the last pillar, causing this already crumbling hell to collapse completely.

The brief, deathly silence on the second floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, caused by the extreme cold, lasted for less than three breaths.

What followed was an even more insane and vicious...revenge!

The surviving assassins of the Five Poisons Sect rose again one by one from the corners of the walls, from under the tables, and from the piles of corpses covered in frost.

Their eyes were no longer filled with the playful, cat-and-mouse cruelty of before, but rather with a bloodthirsty madness ignited by the death of their comrade, a madness that disregarded any cost!

The Xuanming Elders have fled, but someone must pay for this blood debt!

Their gazes, like those of a bloodthirsty pack of wolves, all turned to the remaining, still-living creatures in the room.

The surviving Mongol experts and guards of the eighteen tents had initially seen a glimmer of hope because of the Xuanming Elders' breakout.

But at this moment, when they met those dozens of pairs of eyes that glowed red and were filled with deep-seated hatred, that glimmer of hope instantly turned into a cold, bone-chilling despair.

"Mongol Tartars, where do you think you're going!"

The assassins of the Five Poisons Sect unleashed their boundless hatred for the Xuanming Elders upon these Mongols.

Soon, on the second floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, apart from the members of the Five Poisons Sect, there was not a single person left standing alive.

The smells of blood, rot, herbs, and lingering urine were mixed together.

It created a nauseating, hellish atmosphere.

Amidst this mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood, a woman dressed in a turquoise outfit slowly descended to the first floor.

She was tall and beautiful, but her once charming peach blossom eyes were now filled with a cold, chilling killing intent.

She glanced at the mess on the ground and at the disciples who had died tragically. Her beautiful face remained unmoved, but the coldness in her eyes deepened.

Her gaze swept over the Emei female disciples who were still barely clinging to life due to the effects of the medicine.

Finally, the gaze settled on a young female disciple huddled in a corner, her Taoist robe still intact, who appeared to retain a sliver of consciousness.

The wooden clogs under his feet creaked and crunched as they stepped into the sticky pool of blood.

The female disciple from Emei raised her head and saw that beautiful yet deadly face. She trembled with fear, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Don't...don't kill me..."

She pleaded with all her might.

The woman knelt down in front of her, extended her slender fingers, and gently lifted her chin, her movements as tender as if she were handling a precious treasure.

She leaned close to the female disciple's ear and whispered in a sweet, seductive tone that could melt a lover's bones, "Tell Young Master Wang to prepare the gold."

Tonight, I will go to him in person and settle the reward, interest and all…

After she finished speaking, her smile deepened, but there was not a trace of warmth in that smile.

She let go of his hand, stood up, as if she had only accomplished a trivial task.

"Throw those good-for-nothings out here."

She gave the order without turning her head.

Immediately, two disciples of the Five Poisons Sect understood. They went to a corner of the room and dragged out the grain shop owners, who were so frightened that they were soiling themselves and were already like mud, like dead dogs. Then, with a few "plop, plop" sounds, they threw them directly into the center of this carnage.

After doing all this, the woman never looked at the room again.

"let's go."

She parted her red lips slightly, uttered three words, then turned around and gracefully walked down the stairs.

Behind her, dozens of assassins from the Five Poisons Sect followed her silently, like a hundred ghosts walking at night, and quickly disappeared into the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, which had long since become dilapidated and resembled a ghostly realm.

All that remained were corpses strewn across the ground, a pungent stench, and a few Beggar Clan and Emei Sect disciples who had miraculously survived, lying limp and motionless on the ground.

The door creaked open as Wang Meng pushed it open.

In this courtyard filled with suppressed groans, their sounds were particularly jarring.

In an instant, everyone in the courtyard who was still conscious turned their gaze toward them.

This once spacious backyard has now been transformed into a huge, open-air hospital ward.

The ground was covered with straw mats that had been found on the spot, and people were lying on them haphazardly.

On the left are Emei disciples dressed in gray Taoist robes, and on the right are members of the Beggars' Sect.

Without exception, everyone's face was flushed with an unusual redness, their breathing was rapid, their bodies were twitching slightly without their consent, and their eyes were unfocused. They were all clearly suffering from the torment of the "Qingsu Beifeng".

The air was filled with an unsettling, strange odor—a mixture of sweat, herbs, and desire.

Amidst this gloomy and desolate atmosphere, one figure stood out as an oddity.

She was a beautiful Taoist nun dressed in a moon-white Taoist robe.

She was half-squatting beside a young female disciple, extending two crystal-clear, jade-like fingers and placing them on the disciple's wrist.

Her movements still appeared professional and composed.