Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 657 Falling from a High Altitude

The night wind grew colder and colder, causing my robes to cling tightly to my chest.

He looked down and saw the mountain path as a blurry line, the river reflecting the moonlight and winding in the darkness.

Hundreds of feet in the air, with no trees to lean on and no water to draw momentum, if one were to fall from here, even the four lightning patterns on one's body might not be enough to save one's life.

The novelty wore off quickly.

Xilun gripped the edge of the saddle, his gaze fixed on the man's back.

The other party moved with practiced ease, loosely holding the reins with one hand, showing no signs of tension, and occasionally adjusting the direction of the Flowing Cloud Eagle.

The token is correct, the information is corroborated, and the route hasn't deviated from the north yet, so there shouldn't be any problems.

But the current environment is just too perfect for murder.

He loosened the leather belt around his waist slightly, leaving room to slip away at any time, and then touched the long cloth sheath covering the Cang Lei spear on his side with his fingertips.

The man seemed oblivious, preoccupied with the night view ahead.

After flying some distance, Xilun suddenly spoke up: "Which village in the Fire Nether Tribe are you from?"

The man said, "The side facing the sea."

"Dongwan or Shikou?"

East Bay.

Xilun watched his retreating figure: "The old priest who escaped said that East Bay has been empty for seven years."

The night wind swept past the wings, making a long, drawn-out whistling sound.

The man tilted his head slightly: "I left early, so there are some things I can't remember."

Xilun did not argue, but asked about the names of the two tribal festival days. He had heard one of them during the day, while the other was something he had made up on the spot.

The man mumbled the first part of the sentence, and then readily followed with the second.

The temperature in Xilun's eyes gradually decreased.

"Although the tribes in the southern border region have different names, they wouldn't completely forget their own ancestral sacrifices. Are you actually from the Fire Ghost Tribe?"

Xilun wasn't very knowledgeable about these things either, and he spoke up simply because the other party was certain; if the other party was so sure, he might not be so sure himself.

However...

The man paused for a moment, his hand holding the reins.

Then, he let out a soft sigh, as if he couldn't be bothered with such a trivial matter any longer: "If it's not true, then it's not true. Just come with me."

Xilun's heart sank completely.

It wasn't a joke, and there was no panic after being exposed.

The other party was unwilling to explain further. The news from Zuihuaju, the real fugitives, and the injuries and routes verified along the way quickly connected in his mind.

Did someone know what she needed and deliberately place this request in front of Veronica? Was it the Sea Demon Palace, or some old enemy?

He didn't immediately think of the Celts.

In his view, a test with nine months left and this premeditated kidnapping should not be linked together.

But whoever arranged things to this extent, they must have been prepared in advance.

"Fall down," Siren said coldly. "Now."

The man didn't turn around. But a heavy aura slowly emanated from beneath his gray robe, like an iron plate pressing down on the air around the saddle.

The appearance of being at the third rank vanished instantly, replaced by the pressure of being at the fourth rank, having already crossed that threshold.

Xilun's shoulders tightened, and the Overturning Sea Technique within his body circulated automatically to resist the pressure.

"Sit quietly, and when you get there, someone will naturally talk to you," the man said calmly.

Siren gripped his holster and hissed, "I'll make you fall!"

Before he could finish speaking, a palm strike came crashing down from the front.

The two were too close, and the saddle restricted their movement. Xilun raised his arm to block, and four lightning patterns lit up at the same time, but he was still shaken by the force and felt a tightness in his chest.

My back slammed against the saddle frame, the wooden frame making a crisp sound, and the taste of blood welled up in my throat.

The middle-aged man finally turned around and glanced at him.

There was no anger on that refined face, and he didn't even raise his voice: "Keep your voice down, or I'll kill you."

Xilun gritted his teeth and said nothing more.

He tasted blood and felt the gap between them from that palm strike.

He wasn't entirely defenseless, but in this place, if the enemy tore off the saddle straps or caused the Floating Cloud Eagle to suddenly flip over, he would fall straight down.

To entrust one's life to someone who forged an identity and injured them? Impossible.

He lowered his eyes, slowly regulating his strength while observing the ground through the gaps under the Flowing Cloud Eagle Wings.

The forest undulates, the mountain shadows gradually rise, and a narrow ridge comes into view ahead.

Xilun's gaze suddenly sharpened.

It was originally hundreds of feet above the ground, but that hillside was high enough.

If you jump off before the Flowing Cloud Eagle crosses the ridge, you might only be a few dozen feet away from the top of the slope.

He didn't look up, nor did he try to probe further.

The internal energy spread silently along the meridians, and four lightning patterns were hidden under the robe. The Moon Memory Meditation Technique allowed the surging shock and anger to gradually subside.

He first memorized the rhythm of the Flowing Cloud Eagle's flapping wings, and then estimated the location of several large trees on the hillside.

He couldn't calculate how many of them might survive.

But at least you still have one more chance to choose.

He pried open the inconspicuous old leather bag at his waist with two fingers, revealing the cold, hard Soul-Suppressing Nails inside.

This thing had been with him for a long time, and now it was difficult to hurt strong enemies in direct combat, but he still hadn't thrown it away.

The man in front noticed the unusual silence behind him and was about to speak when the saddle suddenly felt lighter.

Xilun had already unbuckled his belt and leaped out.

A cold wind instantly filled his sleeves, and his body plummeted downwards, the broad belly of the Flowing Cloud Eagle sweeping over his head.

He twisted his waist in the weightlessness and suddenly swung his arm.

A sliver of dark light shot out against the wind, aiming straight for the throat, which lacked the protection of thick feathers.

The Soul-Suppressing Nail cannot kill a fourth-tier extraordinary individual, but it is enough to kill an unsuspecting mount.

With a short, agonizing scream, the iron nail pierced the throat bone, and the blood droplets were torn into thin threads by the strong winds at high altitude.

The wings of the Flowing Cloud Eagle suddenly twitched, causing its massive body to lose its balance and tumble forward with the man on the saddle.

Only at this moment did the middle-aged man's composure shatter completely.

"You're insane!"

He reached out to grab Xilun, but his fingers only tore through a wisp of night wind.

Even before setting off, he had considered all possible forms of resistance: drawing a gun, calling for help, and even threatening people by bringing up the monastery.

He had a way to handle everything. The only thing he never expected was that this young man would jump down directly, and he never expected that the other party would kill the Flowing Cloud Eagle with a nail as he jumped down.

Celt was waiting ahead; he was only supposed to lead the men there, guard the retreat route, and let his nephew fight a match ahead of time.

Break a few bones, leave some fear, and hopefully, when Xilun sees that knife again nine months later, he will be terrified.

How did something so simple suddenly turn into something that would cost me my life?

Fourth-order doesn't mean you can fly.

He had just broken through and hadn't even condensed his first wisp of divine power. At such a high altitude, what could he possibly grasp with all his strength?

The man hastily broke the saddle strap, braced himself on the back of the Cloud Eagle, and desperately lunged towards the higher hillside.

But he was already two breaths too slow.

The momentum of the mount flying forward, combined with the descent into a different direction, caused the nearest hilltop to quickly fall behind.

He saw Xilun fall into a canopy of trees, while beneath his feet lay a much lower ravine of thorns on the other side of the hillside, a drop of over a hundred feet.

He gritted his teeth, regretting his earlier threat for the first time.

If I had known this person would fight so desperately, I would have said a few more words to coax him to sit still, and things wouldn't have turned out like this!

With a loud bang, Xilun crashed into the tree canopy.

Branches lashed his face, thick branches snapped one after another, and four golden lightning patterns flashed wildly along his chest and back.

He curled up to protect his head and neck, channeling the power of the Overturning Sea Technique into his back.

The first layer of the tree canopy was torn apart, and a second thick branch struck his waist and abdomen. His vision went black, and blood oozed from between his teeth.

He then crashed onto the slanted tree trunk and rolled into the thick layer of decaying leaves along with the broken wood.

He did not faint, but for a moment he could not hear anything at all and could only feel his heart pounding violently in his chest.

As the buzzing in my ears gradually subsided, another muffled thud came from the distant ravine.

Xilun, supporting himself with the Thunder Spear, slowly raised his head. Silence returned to the forest.

He spat out a mouthful of blood and looked toward the direction from which the sound came.

Is that fourth-order one dead?

Xiren did not get up immediately.

He leaned against the broken tree trunk, first calming his erratic breathing, then reached down to touch his ribs.

The two ribs on my left side were in excruciating pain, though they weren't dislocated yet. Large sections of skin and flesh on my shoulder and back were torn open by branches. The most serious injury came from the shock of hitting the tree, and even my lungs and internal organs were aching.

Compared to falling directly from a height of hundreds of feet, this is already an excellent result.

The fourth-stage "Golden Thunder Vortex Scripture" withstood the most fatal impact for him, and the dense canopy of trees on the hilltop also absorbed some of the force; otherwise, even if he hadn't died, he would never have been able to hold the gun steady at this moment.

The Thunder Dragon's Heart throbbed powerfully, and the healing abilities brought by the Golden Tortoise's molted skin slowly took effect, gradually stopping the bleeding at the edge of the wound.

He took out the medicine and drank half of it, his gaze never leaving the distance.

There were no footsteps or coughs from that direction for a long time.

With a drop of over a hundred feet, all that could be seen below were thorns and rocks, and the impact just now was unmistakably real.

Logically speaking, even someone who has just entered the fourth level should be seriously injured or even die on the spot.

Xilun frowned slightly as he recalled the slap on the saddle.

The opponent possessed immense strength and a physique superior to his own, yet there was no divine pressure within that power he had imagined.

Is this a recent breakthrough, and hasn't been refined yet?

If that's the case, the gap between the other party and oneself is large, but not so large as to be completely insurmountable.

The problem is that, without knowing whether that person is alive or dead, no matter which path you take in the future, you have to be wary of a fourth-tier being suddenly appearing behind you.

He was silent for a moment, then gritted his teeth and stood up. He wanted to look, but not get close.

Xilun removed the holster and, using the trees as cover, slowly moved toward the ravine.

The mud was soft and damp at night, and there were broken branches and leaves all along the way. The further down you went, the stronger the earthy smell became.

Before long, he saw the middle-aged man among a patch of fallen thorns.

The other person's body was half-submerged in the mud, his gray robe was torn to shreds, his right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and his mouth and nose were covered in blood.

A sharp stone grazed past his side, leaving a long trail of blood.

At this moment, the man's eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling almost imperceptibly; he looked as if he had already fainted.

Xilun stopped about ten paces away. His gaze wasn't on the man's face, but rather on the left hand half-buried in the mud.

The marks left by the smashing were messy, but near that hand, a few thin branches were broken off very neatly.

It looks like someone landed and then moved.

"To be able to bear such a fall is quite something," Xilun said in a low voice.

no respond.

The next moment, he flicked the tip of his spear, and a bluish-white lightning bolt flew out along the ground, piercing straight into the man's chest.

The body in the mud suddenly flipped up, and the palm wind, carrying bits of dirt, slammed towards the spearhead.

With a loud bang, the thorns were blown apart by the shockwave. Xilun was prepared and retreated after drawing his gun, but the recoil still forced his feet to slide down two deep marks.

The middle-aged man knelt on the muddy ground, his face pale, but his eyes were full of coldness.

"You dare to come back?" The man's voice was somewhat hoarse.

Xilun gripped his gun and stared at him: "You're not dead yet, so why can't I come back?"

The other person's lips twitched; he was indeed not unconscious.

Upon landing, he desperately mustered his strength to protect his internal organs and used several palm strikes from a distance to hit the slope wall, slightly slowing his fall and narrowly escaping death.

But his right leg was broken, his sternum was cracked, and even breathing caused him pain in his lungs.

He originally planned to play dead and subdue Xilun with a single blow when Xilun came to check the body.

It's not surprising that the young man was wary, but the fact that he had just escaped death from a great height and was still so calm that he wouldn't even take ten steps closer only added to his irritation.

"Who are you?" Xilun pointed his spear at the ground, his body tense. "You're a member of a disguised tribe. Where are you taking me?"

The man slowly propped himself up, his injured right leg dragging on the ground: "Don't ask questions you shouldn't ask. Just come with me obediently, and things won't get too ugly."

"Your mount is dead, and its legs are broken. You still want to take me with you?" Xilun looked at him, his voice calm to the point of being indifferent.

A vein throbbed on the man's forehead as he finally couldn't suppress his hatred: "You killed my Flowing Cloud Eagle and injured me like this. Once the young master defeats you, I'll personally teach you a lesson. You'd better still have this mouth by then."

Young Master, Xilun remembered those two words, but did not immediately ask any further questions.

If the other party refuses to explain, further questioning will only result in threats.

"You forged my identity, set up a kidnapping, assaulted me, and now you're saying you want to torture me." He pressed the gun barrel firmly into his palm. "So, you're saying I shouldn't have jumped, shouldn't have fought back, and should have just obediently waited for you to break my bones to be considered sensible?"

"Then why don't you walk yourself?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Xilun suddenly stepped forward, his Azure Thunder Spear piercing towards the other's throat like a cold light.

throat.

This shot was fired with murderous intent.