Heavenly Rebellion: The Human Race's Rise to Prominence
Chapter 122: Black Bull Art

Chapter 122: Black Bull Art

Lin Feng, already running out of patience, lifted Zhi Hao’s face slightly before smashing it into the ground.

Blood splattered as bruises formed, yet despite the violence, Lin Feng held back from delivering a killing blow.

Sympathy flickered within him, but beating Zhi Hao senseless? That was something he had no qualms about.

Hmph, if he still refuses to cooperate after this beating, maybe I’ll change my mind and just kill this idiot.

Lin Feng’s eyes gleamed with killing intent as he yanked Zhi Hao up once more, staring straight into his terrified gaze.

His voice remained calm, but the murderous aura lurking beneath was undeniable.

"If you can’t lead me to them, then what’s the point of keeping you alive?"

Zhi Hao opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Lin Feng slammed his face into the ground once again.

This time, blood seeped freely from his wounds, pain overwhelming his senses.

He couldn’t hold back the agonized scream that tore from his throat.

"AHHHH! THAT HURTS!! ALL RIGHT, I’LL HELP YOU! JUST DON’T SMASH MY FACE ANYMORE!!" Zhi Hao shrieked, his eyes filled with sheer terror as he looked at Lin Feng.

However, as Lin Feng stared at Zhi Hao, a strange feeling crept into his mind.

Despite how brutal the beating seemed, Zhi Hao wasn’t as injured as he should have been.

I guess that’s one of the perks of having a shield as your Heaven’s Pact.

Even so, Lin Feng kept his thoughts hidden, his expression unreadable.

He studied Zhi Hao for a moment before releasing his grip, letting him face-plant into the ground once more.

"All right, lead the way. And remember—if you try to trick me, this time, the injuries won’t just hurt. They’ll be permanent." Lin Feng’s narrowed eyes gleamed with a cold smile.

Zhi Hao shivered and quickly nodded, but deep inside, he was shaken.

Lin Feng had seen through him far too easily.

This was a trick he had used countless times—feigning helplessness, begging for mercy, and seizing the right moment to escape or ambush his opponent.

Yet ever since Lin Feng had sent him flying with a single punch, an inexplicable fear had taken root in him.

Now, even the thought of deceiving Lin Feng made his stomach churn with unease.

Whatever... it’s not like I have a choice. This monster is clearly a lunatic.

Zhi Hao forced an ingratiating smile, trying to appear as harmless as possible in front of Lin Feng.

"If you don’t start moving, I’ll kick your ass," Lin Feng stated flatly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

Then, his gaze shifted toward Chen Si and Huang Bei.

"Chen Si, Huang Bei, I’m leaving you two here. If I find where they’re keeping the kidnapped people, I’ll do my best to save them. But try to catch up as soon as you can."

Chen Si, strong in his own right, gave a firm nod before replying, "I’ll catch up soon, but my instincts are telling me reinforcements are on their way. If that happens, you might be on your own for a while."

WHOOSH!

Suddenly, Chen Si raised his hand, and in an instant, his arm transformed into pure Nethersoul Poison.

It shot forward like a whip, elongating before slamming into the face of a seventh-level Qi Condensation cultivator.

Blood sprayed as the ambusher was sent flying, his attempt at striking during the conversation completely backfiring.

Unfortunately for him, the attack had already sealed his fate. With Nethersoul Poison coursing through his body, the direct hit only worsened his condition.

He collapsed onto the snowy ground, writhing in agony as he let out bloodcurdling screams.

"Lin Feng, be careful!" Huang Bei said seriously, his aura surging with powerful spiritual energy. "I don’t want anything happening to you. If things get too dangerous, just wait for us to catch up!"

Wei Mun, the cultivator facing Huang Bei, suddenly let out a malicious grin.

"Heh... you really think that just because you defeated Mo Chen, you stand a chance against the young master?" He sneered. "You’re overestimating yourself."

His smirk widened as he continued, his voice dripping with mockery.

"And besides, before you even reach the young master, you’ll have to get past Wei Zihao—one of his strongest subordinates. I hope you at least put up a decent fight before you die."

Then, his gaze shifted to Zhi Hao. With a look of pure disdain, he spat at the ground and snarled, "And you, traitorous brat. You think you can betray the Wei Clan and get away scot-free? After this is over, you’re dead."

Zhi Hao shivered at Wei Mun’s words. He wanted to defend himself, to explain that he had no choice, but before he could get a word out, the battlefield shifted once more.

Huang Bei, already locked in combat with Wei Mun, saw an opportunity and didn’t hesitate. His eyes flashed with determination as his aura surged violently.

Without warning, he dashed forward with explosive speed, his entire body brimming with raw power.

A deep, resonant bellow echoed through the battlefield as a towering image of a black bull manifested around him, its massive form radiating an oppressive force that sent shockwaves through the air.

The ground trembled beneath his feet as his spiritual energy surged to its peak.

"Black Bull Art: Black Horn Rage!"

The moment the words left his lips, Huang Bei charged like an unstoppable force of nature, his body merging with the spectral bull’s might.

His speed was terrifying, his power overwhelming.

BOOM!

Wei Mun barely had time to register what was happening before the devastating impact crashed into him.

The force was monstrous—his body was flung through the air like a broken doll, sent flying across the battlefield before crashing into the snow with a thunderous impact.

A cloud of ice and debris exploded outward as he tumbled violently, leaving a deep trench in the ground.

This time, he didn’t just suffer a few minor injuries. Huang Bei’s attack had landed directly on his chest, and the damage was severe.

A deep, gaping wound was torn across his torso, blood pouring from the injury like a crimson river. His breath came out in ragged gasps, and for the first time, fear flickered in his eyes.

If not for the fact that he, too, was a beast-type cultivator, that single strike would have killed him on the spot.

A guttural scream of rage and agony erupted from Wei Mun’s throat.

"YOU BASTARD!!!" he howled, clutching his chest as pain wracked his body.

His expression twisted into one of pure fury, his pride and strength shattered by the sheer force of Huang Bei’s attack.