My Ares Son-in-Law

This energy burst forth suddenly at a speed beyond visual perception, so fast that no one had time to react.

The look of terror on Chen Donghai's face froze instantly, as if he had been frozen in place.

His pupils dilated to their maximum size, as if he were seeing the most terrifying thing in the world. His mouth was slightly open, as if he wanted to squeeze out a few words of pleading, but he could no longer make a sound.

In the next instant, the sharp energy, like an extremely sharp blade, sliced ​​directly through his arm.

With a sharp "crack," his entire arm was severed at the neck, the cut as smooth as a mirror, like a sausage cut open by a sharp blade, shooting into the sky with a spray of hot blood, drawing a shocking arc in the air.

"Pfft!"

The severed arm rolled onto the carpet with a dull thud, like the footsteps of death.

Chen Donghai stood upright for a moment, his body still in the same position, as if he had not yet realized that he had lost his arm.

Then, he let out a terrified scream, a sharp and mournful sound that echoed in the private room like the wailing of an owl.

Warm blood splattered like ink on the shattered tabletop and the exquisite carpet, turning the once-glorious decorations into a glaring red.

The pungent stench of blood instantly filled the luxurious private room, creating an extremely cruel and shocking scene that sent chills down one's spine.

The man with the mustache standing to the side witnessed this horrifying scene and felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to his head. His legs went weak and he collapsed to his knees with a thud.

His forehead was pressed tightly against the cold ground, and his body trembled violently, like a withered leaf caught in a storm.

His voice was choked with sobs as he spoke haltingly.

"Master Yang... please calm your anger!"

"Spare me...spare me!"

"I was blind and didn't recognize your greatness. I have offended you, sir. I beg you to be magnanimous and spare my life!"

Yang Nantian remained expressionless, his cold demeanor like unchanging ice, as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust after casually severing Chen Donghai's arm, completely unconcerned about the bloodshed.

His icy gaze, like two sharp blades, slowly turned to the kneeling, trembling man with the mustache. With a slight twitch of his fingertips, the pent-up power seemed poised to unleash a torrent of force, ready to deliver another ruthless blow and let the mustache man taste the agony of a fate worse than death.

At this critical moment, the atmosphere in the private room was so tense it seemed ready to ignite. The heavy, carved wooden door of the room was slowly pushed open from the outside, making a long and piercing creak, like a death knell.

A slightly hunched figure, leaning on an ebony cane, slowly and unsteadily moved in.

The figure looked as if a gust of wind could blow it over, and every step it took seemed incredibly difficult.

The newcomer had white hair and beard, like the lingering snow in winter. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, each one seemingly recording the vicissitudes and hardships he had endured. His weariness was palpable, and his aura was utterly deteriorating, like a candle flame about to burn out.

This person was none other than Duo'er, who had fiercely clashed with Xiao Chen during the conflict and was almost killed by him. He was also an extremely loyal expert by Yang Xiong's side, having risked his life for the Yang family for many years and made many great contributions.

When Yang Nantian saw Duo'er, a noticeable change appeared in his usually cold eyes. A hint of astonishment flashed in his normally calm gaze, as if he had seen something unbelievable.

He frowned slightly and asked in a low, authoritative voice.

"Duo'er?"

"You...you are still alive?"

Upon hearing the sound, Duo'er's body trembled violently as if struck by lightning, and tears of shame and indignation instantly welled up in his cloudy, hateful eyes. The tears slid down his wrinkled cheeks and dripped onto the ground, as if they were an outpouring of his endless pain and self-reproach.

He abruptly threw away the crutch he relied on for support, which fell to the ground with a "thud," as if reflecting his inner collapse at that moment.

His knees buckled, and he fell heavily to his knees in front of Yang Nantian with a thud, his head hitting the ground with a dull thud.

His voice was hoarse and sorrowful, filled with endless regret and pain as he spoke.

"Ancestor!"

"Duo'er... Duo'er is incompetent!"

"We failed to protect the young master and the Yang family!"

"For causing the young master to suffer such a terrible fate, and for the Yang family to suffer such a heavy blow, Duo'er deserves to die!"

"I only hate that the thief was extremely cruel and ruthless, and almost killed me."

"I have been clinging to life until now, living in pain and self-blame every day, just waiting for the ancestor to return and tell me the truth in person!"

Yang Nantian's eyes were sharp and full of concern and urgency. Without hesitation, he took a step forward and moved like lightning, instantly arriving in front of Duo'er.

He reached out his broad and strong hand and gently but firmly helped Duo'er up.

When his palm touched Duo'er's body, his brows furrowed instantly, and a look of undisguised shock and sorrow flashed across his face.

All he could feel was that the meridians in Duo'er's body were shattered and broken, like silk threads ravaged by a raging storm. Her Qi Sea was also as depleted as a dried-up lake bottom, without the slightest fluctuation of internal energy.

In the past, Duo'er's formidable martial arts skills made her a figure of awe in the Yang family, but now they have vanished. She is now just an ordinary woman with no strength to even kill a chicken, as if a gentle breeze could blow her over.

A piercing, excruciating pain, like a surging tide, instantly swept over Yang Nantian's mind.

The pain stemmed not only from Duo'er's tragic fate, but also from the devastating blow suffered by the Yang family, and from the anger and hatred towards the unknown murderer.

At the same time, a raging fire of anger was burning in his heart, as if it wanted to burn the whole world to ashes.

His voice trembled slightly from extreme suppression, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth.

"tell me!"

"Who did all this?!"

"who is it?!"

The voice was deep and majestic, like a judgment from the deepest hell, sending chills down one's spine.

Duo'er's tears flowed freely, like a flood bursting its banks, streaming down her wrinkled face.

Her grief-stricken gaze slowly swept over the messy tabletop, which was once exquisite but was now shattered and covered with blood and debris, as if it were a microcosm of the calamity that had befallen the Yang family.

Suddenly, her gaze fixed on the photograph stained with a few drops of blood. The young man in the photograph had a cold face and a chillingly ruthless look in his eyes.

In an instant, a deep-seated hatred erupted in Duo'er's eyes, a hatred like a burning flame, as if it wanted to incinerate the young man in the photograph. (End of Chapter)