Chapter 27: Mara-Struck, Provocation

Lu Yuan did not have the habit of finishing off his opponents. To be precise, he did not need to. Given the medical standards of this era, after taking a punch from him, even if they did not die on the spot, they would drag their broken bodies through a miserable existence for long. They had made too many enemies; their foes would never let such an opportunity slip by. Moreover, outside the battlefield, a crowd of players was watching like tigers stalking their prey. Would they let a chance for a "finishing blow" go to waste? Not a chance.

As soon as Lu Yuan left, the players outside the perimeter rushed in, eager to deliver the final blow to the heavily wounded bandits. Even if they encountered a corpse, they would still stab it just to be sure. If it dealt damage, it meant the target was still alive, so they would strike again; if there was no damage, it meant the target was already dead, and they had lost nothing—they could still loot the body.

"Charge, boys! Let’s feast!"
"Is this what it feels like to cling to a powerhouse?"
"So satisfying!"
"This is just escort duty, boss!"
"Awesome."

The players on the battlefield were having the time of their lives, while those waiting to respawn at the fountain were green with envy. They had died too early and missed out on the spoils. By the time they respawned, it would likely be too late. The jealousy was agonizing.

"Brother, that big boss... I don’t think he’s dead yet."
"I think I saw him move."

Outside the fray, a player noticed Han Shan, the bandit leader whom Lu Yuan had tossed aside. He seemed to see a subtle rise and fall in the boss's chest. The boss was still alive. He trembled with excitement. If they could successfully land the final blow on this major boss, the rewards would be astronomical—not just in points, but in experience and loot. If the boss dropped his martial arts manual, they would truly hit the jackpot.

"Let me look." His companion stared at the boss, observing with great patience for a full minute until he, too, detected the faint movement in Han Shan’s chest. The boss really wasn't dead. *Holy crap, we’re going to be rich.* The group exchanged glances, their hearts racing and hands trembling.

"Shh, keep it down. Let’s sneak over."
"Remember, don't let anyone else notice."
"When we get within a meter, we strike together."
"Split the loot evenly."
"Deal."

They feigned composure, putting on an act for the others, and slowly approached Han Shan under the guise of finishing off smaller mobs. Once they crossed the one-meter threshold, they looked at each other and lunged at the bandit leader who was playing dead.

"Die, you bastard!"
"Heh, take this!"
"Playing dead? We caught you!"

They wore triumphant smiles, but the next moment, a terrifying aura swept over them. Thick, black mist erupted from Han Shan’s body. Caught off guard, the players were engulfed; with a few screams, their bodies instantly shattered into countless specks of light.

[Damn it.]
[What a dirty player.]
[What a disgusting boss.]
[How does he have a second life?]

"Damnable wretches."

The black mist swept through the surrounding players, claiming their lives in a bizarre fashion. As the life force drained from the players and flowed back into him, Han Shan’s condition began to recover. Within mere seconds, he was able to stand up again.

"The Demonic Yin Body... it’s the Demonic Yin Body! That bastard, he really is a disciple of the Demonic Yin Sect!"

On the city wall, Constable Sun noticed the commotion below. When he looked down, he saw the black mist consuming the players and witnessed Han Shan’s injuries healing at a visible rate as the energy returned. He was all too familiar with this scene. He would never forget this exceptionally evil technique in his entire life: the Demonic Yin Body.

It was the most wicked martial art of the Demonic Yin Sect. Cultivating it required no innate talent or physical aptitude. Even if one were sickly and had terrible martial potential, one could practice the Demonic Yin Body without any hindrance to the speed of progress. This was its advantage, and also one of the reasons it was so diabolical.

The cultivation of the Demonic Yin Body required only one thing: human lives. It could be said that every level of progress was built upon a pile of corpses. To begin training, one needed twenty lives—specifically ten young boys and ten young girls—which was incredibly cruel. Once mastered, a certain number of lives were required every month to maintain the cultivation level. The higher the realm, the more lives it demanded. When disciples of the Demonic Yin Sect reached a breakthrough, they would often slaughter entire villages, using innocent lives to fuel their power.

This technique also corroded the practitioner’s personality. Even a saint, once they began practicing the Demonic Yin Body, would soon have their will corrupted until they fell completely into darkness, becoming a true member of the sect. Its greatest advantage was its dominance over martial artists at least three realms lower than the user. With a wave of his hand, the black mist could drain the life essence of such enemies, feeding it back to the user to restore injuries and internal energy. When the three major factions besieged the Demonic Yin Sect, many imperial soldiers had died to this very move. Later, the Grand Preceptor of the Great Yong Dynasty joined forces with several first-rank martial artists to slay the Sect Master with an ancient, mystical formation.

"Chief Constable! That bandit leader is recovering!"
"Kill him quickly!"

Constable Sun shouted toward the city below. Hearing this, Lu Yuan tightened his grip on the bandit he was currently holding, crushing him to death before tossing the body aside. He turned his gaze toward Han Shan. Sure enough, the bandit leader was surrounded by eerie black mist, and his wounds were knitting back together. While the speed of his recovery was not as fast as his own, Lu Yuan was deeply displeased. Someone who was supposed to be dead had no business being alive.

Lu Yuan stepped toward Han Shan. Feeling the weight of Lu Yuan’s gaze, Han Shan was filled with dread. Lu Yuan was a monster—he was no match for him. Perhaps only the Sect Master could stand against such a freak. Without hesitation, Han Shan forced his still-recovering body to stand and hurriedly channeled his remaining internal energy. He intended to flee. The Shadow Step of the Demonic Yin Sect was a top-tier movement technique; he was confident that Lu Yuan could not catch him. These brute-force martial artists usually had nothing but muscle in their heads; they might be strong in a direct brawl, but their escape skills could never surpass his.

Han Shan subconsciously suppressed the memory of the speed Lu Yuan had displayed earlier, deluding himself that he could escape. Before leaving, he couldn't help but flip Lu Yuan off. Pure, unadulterated mockery.

"Fine, fine, fine."
"So, it's the middle finger, is it?"
"You’ll find out exactly how many pieces you're going to be in soon."

Lu Yuan roared with fury and bolted toward Han Shan.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

The ground shook. As Lu Yuan activated his "Explosive Step" skill, deep craters exploded into the earth beneath his feet with every stride.