Villain: You Want Me to Follow the Plot and Die? I’m Done Pretending - Chapter 53:

Chapter 53: Pushed to the Limit:

“Hmph. So, you noticed me after all.” A voice sneered.

A figure in black slowly stepped out from the corner of the alley, Feng Leng by his side. Though he appeared to be a young child, his eyes held a weary, ancient look, something that made Zhang Sanyan stop in his tracks, wide-eyed and stunned.

“I thought finding good prey in a small place like this would be difficult,” Feng Leng said, licking his lips as he eyed Gu Feng hungrily. “Yet, here you are, looking like the perfect meal.”

Feng Leng’s cultivation relied on consuming the blood of other cultivators to quickly increase his power. Naturally, the blood of a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator held far more potent spiritual energy.

“Elder Qian, do it now,” Feng Leng ordered as a shadow darted forward. Zhang Sanyan felt his heart skip a beat. His instincts kicked in, and he took a step closer to Gu Feng, almost as if seeking his protection. Just as he did, he sensed something coming from his left. Looking up, he saw Gu Feng’s hand reach out, clutching the elder’s throat firmly.

The elder’s black robes billowed as he struggled, but he was no match for Gu Feng. With a quick twist, there was a sickening crack. The elder’s neck snapped, and his Nascent Soul tried to escape from his body, only for Gu Feng to snatch it mid-air.

The tiny, glowing soul attempted to retaliate, sucking in a breath and spitting a sharp, condensed burst of spiritual Qi toward Gu Feng’s face—a sword formed from sheer force! The soul didn’t wait to see the result and instead fled back toward Feng Leng.

But before it could reach him, Gu Feng tightened his grip and crushed it. The Nascent Soul burst apart, releasing a thick wave of spiritual Qi. Feng Leng’s face darkened as he watched, warily meeting Gu Feng’s gaze. For the first time, he noticed that throughout this encounter, the young man’s expression had remained cold and indifferent.

“A mere Nascent Soul realm cultivator of the First Realm wouldn’t have such power. Are you from a higher realm?” Feng Leng muttered, his grip tightening on his weapon. He felt the urge to retreat. His own strength hadn’t fully recovered yet, and engaging this mysterious young man now seemed unwise.

“Let’s consider today a misunderstanding,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “We can part ways here, no harm done.”

“No.” Gu Feng’s single word struck like a hammer.

He turned to Zhang Sanyan and slapped a protective talisman onto him, surrounding him with a golden shield. Then, with a flash, he appeared in front of Feng Leng and unsheathed his sword.

Steel clashed as Gu Feng’s single-handed strike bore down on Feng Leng’s desperate block. The ground beneath Feng Leng’s feet cracked, his feet digging into the earth as he struggled to hold his stance.

The force of the blow scattered broken tiles, a gust swirling through the alley and pelting the golden shield around Zhang Sanyan.

Feng Leng staggered back, spitting blood. “So, you really are from a higher realm…” he gasped.

He’d fed on countless souls and thought his strength had been restored to its peak, but with just one strike, he’d been forced back to square one. His heart pounded with fear. He realized that his opponent had been more powerful than him even in his prime.

“I don’t want to die. Spare me! I swear I’ll serve you with my soul,” he begged, dropping to his knees. The childlike face twisted with fear, but it was his best asset. He looked up, eyes wide and pleading.

“Swear your soul?” Gu Feng replied with a cold smile. “You possess this child’s body with a fractured spirit, yet the boy’s soul remains intact. If I left my mark on this body, would I be marking you—or the child?”

Hope flickered in Feng Leng’s eyes, thinking his offer was accepted. “I swear, I, Feng Yanhua, offer my soul to you. Imprint me in my Sea of Consciousness, and I will never resist you!”

Leaving a spiritual imprint on someone’s Sea of Consciousness would bind them eternally to their master, making them a servant for life. If the master died, the servant would die too. The destruction of a servant could even empower the master.

Seeing the glint of interest in Gu Feng’s eyes, Feng Leng thought, “Got him!”

“Alright, then open your Sea of Consciousness.” Gu Feng said, seemingly agreeing to the terms.

Feng Leng opened his mind, heart pounding, waiting for Gu Feng to place his mark. As Gu Feng’s hand neared his forehead, Feng Leng made his move. He dodged slightly, his hand snapping out as a silver thread shot toward Gu Feng’s neck—Heavenly Silk!

If it connected, it would sever Gu Feng’s head instantly.

But just as he prepared to gloat, he looked into Gu Feng’s eyes, which were calm and mocking.

“You’re just an old fool who never learns. It’s no wonder you were nearly destroyed. You deserve this.” Gu Feng sneered.

In a single, fluid motion, his hand slammed down on Feng Leng’s head, crushing it like a ripe fruit. Blood sprayed everywhere, and the silver threads fell uselessly to the ground. Even the remnant spirit of Feng Yanhua, clinging to its half-formed red-and-black soul, was yanked out and stuck in Gu Feng’s hand.

“Come here, Sanyan,” Gu Feng called, without a trace of emotion in his voice.