Douluo: A Century-old Legend I Am the Second Uncle Chenxin

Chapter 1585 Wind, Fire, Mountain, and Forest; The Four Generals of the Chen Family!
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Luo Ping suddenly narrowed his eyes, "...Three young lads tore Yan Choulong apart with their bare hands. That was a ferocious Netherworld Demon Dragon!"

"That brat has a fusion technique with the Holy Maiden of Seagod Island, and he's even fused with that Chen Xinyi..."

“Soul fusion.” Luo Derun raised his cloudy eyes slightly and added, “To form different soul fusion techniques with two different people, what the hell.”

They left early and didn't see Chen Xiaojun and Xiao Yi's second fusion technique—"Ten Directions Annihilation"—otherwise they would have ripped their hair out.

"This is really weird!" Luo Ping's five fingers clenched suddenly, and a pebble dug into his palm. "What kind of evil magic is this? How can a Soul King's strength be temporarily boosted to the Soul Saint level?"

"That Sea Dragon Douluo was something else too. He held out until level 95, suppressing Yan Wushuang so much that she couldn't turn the tables. What kind of sorcery is that!"

“Cultivation techniques…” A dark undercurrent surged in Luo Derun’s eyes, and he said coldly, “I have never heard of the Chen family or Seagod Island having such methods.”

"At least, sixty years ago, no!"

Luo Ping looked up abruptly, as if stung by something: "And Zhu Hongzhen, that shell of a tortoise is too hard to crack!"

"If it weren't for our double sickles striking in one line, we wouldn't even have been able to break through the gap!"

"He actually survived and even earned a title... Fourth Uncle,"

His voice was lowered to a dangerous line, "You mean, his master... Chen Zixiu, could it be... not quite dead yet?"

In the past, Luo Derun would have scoffed at this.

At this moment, he silently stared at the thick, impenetrable darkness deep within the crevice of the rock.

After a long pause, he managed to squeeze out two words: "...maybe."

"Chen Yu!" Luo Ping recalled the face that had withstood his attack yet showed no signs of death. "That old bastard surnamed Zhu shouted before he died that I had injured Chen Yu... He must still be alive. My slash clearly cut into his soul!"

"If Chen Yu were also alive... would they still be hiding a way to remove divine power?"

Luo Derun stood like a stone sculpture, his hard Adam's apple bobbing up and down once. "...Go back and report it."

"Zhu Hongzhen!" Luo Ping suddenly grabbed his soaked hair. "If that old bastard is still breathing... twice, both times he's been screwed over!"

"I'm doomed. I'll be punished when I get back."

“Don’t worry,” Rodrun’s voice suddenly became cold and viscous, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue under a rock, “Divine power… is not something that just anyone can pull out.”

That's true. For them, the power of the Rakshasa God also needs to be accumulated over time, and every bit used is a bit less.

Luo Ping used his powers twice this year, once to Chen Yu and once to Zhu Hongzhen, and his divine power was already exhausted.

“Zhu Hongzhen has a 99% chance of not surviving,” a very soft, extremely short laugh escaped from his cracked lips, chilling like the wind passing through his bones, “...Even if he is lucky enough to survive, ha…”

Luo Ping froze instantly, turning sharply to stare at the blurry, withered face in the darkness: "Fourth Uncle? You...?"

“My scythe,” Rodrun’s withered fingers slowly curled, his calmness chilling to the bone, “was aimed at his soul nest.”

Luo Ping was stunned for a moment, unable to tell whether he felt fear or admiration: "...That's ruthless, Fourth Uncle."

"Get out," Rodrun said as if shooing away non-existent mosquitoes, "You can't expect ivory from a dog's mouth."

A cold, harsh, unfamiliar voice suddenly pierced their eardrums: "You can't expect anything good to come out of a dog's mouth!"

Luo Ping looked up abruptly: "Who is it?!"

On the damp, cold rock face, on the edge of a protruding rock sixty or seventy meters high, a tall, thin figure in a dark blue robe stood still. An invisible pressure from his title, like a cold spider web, silently enveloped him: "Red Scythe Douluo Luo Derun..." "Sixty years."

Luo Derun's cracked eyelids suddenly lifted, his cloudy eyes narrowing into two pinpoints: "Swift as the wind—Cheng Wenge!"

His withered fingers curled slightly. "You old bones, you're just like that blockhead Zhu Hongzhen... not quite dead yet, and your account was even banned."

From the shadows on the right, a thunderous roar erupted: "Red Scythe, you old dog!"

Gravel rubble tumbled down.

A robust old man with white hair and a short beard, carrying a huge nine-toothed rake on his shoulder, broke through half of the mountain wall and leaped into the dim light at the bottom of the valley, his hair and beard bristling.

"The debts from Sunset Gorge sixty years ago, the blood debts of the Chen family today, and Old Zhu's grudges—it's time to settle them all at once!"

Luo Derun stiffly turned his neck, letting out a hoarse, cold laugh: "Aggression like fire—Ding Daoheng..."

He squeezed out a metallic scraping sound from his throat, "Fine... Apart from that bitch Xia Ruxin, all my old debtors from back then are finally here!"

"Old Ghost Luo, are you looking for me?" A voice responded from the depths of the dark crevice on the left, not a cold rebuke, but a natural whisper like a breeze rustling through the leaves in the forest.

Several illusory pink and white cherry blossoms suddenly emerged from the cracks in the rock wall, swaying gently. As the petals fell and fluttered, a serene figure in dark green quietly materialized.

A woman dressed in a dark green cloud-patterned outfit, with a face that looked no more than fifty years old and delicate, picturesque features, slowly emerged.

There are no signs of age, only a pair of deep eyes that seem to reflect the tranquility of the entire dark forest.

Luo Derun's wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the folds on his forehead twitched suddenly.

The moment that seemingly calm figure appeared, the light around him distorted and swayed unnaturally, and the air seemed to freeze for a moment.

"Xia Ruxin, as gentle as a forest!"

His voice held an indescribable apprehension as his gaze swept over Cheng Wenge, Ding Daoheng, and Xia Ruxin, “Feng Huo Shan Lin…the Four Generals of the Chen Family!”

“None of you are rotting in the ground yet, Wild Boar (Zhu Hongzhen), Fire Barbarian (Ding Daoheng), Constipated Ghost (Cheng Wenge)... and you, you disgusting tree that can grow bewitching and illusory flowers (Xia Ruxin)!”

The withered hand pointed at the three men, "They've all been given titles!"

A fierce light, a mixture of horror and jealousy, flashed from his cloudy eyes.

"What kind of heaven-defying treasure has the Chen family unearthed?!"

One or two achievements and titles could be considered a great blessing, but all four of them broke through that insurmountable barrier... This could only be due to external forces!
The things the Chen family is hiding are enough to shake the world of Soul Masters!
Speaking of the four generals of Wind, Fire, Mountain and Forest, apart from Zhu Hongzhen who was Chen Zixiu's attendant, Cheng, Ding and Xia all had seventh-grade martial souls, and high-grade martial souls still had an advantage.

Actually, there were two more back then – “Unknowable as the shadow” (a dark figure) and “Moving like thunder” (a staff of thunder), but unfortunately they died in battle.

Xia Ruxin's gaze was calm and unwavering, the petals of the illusory cherry blossoms falling around her swirling silently: "Sixty years ago, you were beaten up by the four of us, but that wasn't enough..."

She gently brushed her fingertips across a petal that drifted down leisurely, the petal seemingly imbued with the weight of her words, "Along with the blood shed by the Heavenly Battle Dust Palace, please, both of you, return it... as well."

"Just the three of you?!" Rodrun's hunched body suddenly straightened, and his withered shadow soul power surged out like a tidal wave, causing pebbles to fly from the ground. "Two level 93, one level 92..."

His withered fingers slowly pointed at the three people. "You want to keep us uncle and nephew here?"

Although his aura was weak, he was still a solid level 96 Super Douluo, while Luo Ping was still at level 95.

Even if these three attacked them at their peak, they wouldn't be able to capture them.

(End of this chapter)