Horrible Enemy! . . .
Returning to events from several days prior, a group of forty-eight exceptional cultivators engaged in a formidable battle against Feng Monarch. Tragically, every single one of them met their demise, sending shockwaves reverberating throughout the world.
However, the twenty-eight valiant warriors representing the two prestigious sects remained in the dark regarding the precise sequence of events. Their knowledge was pieced together from accounts provided by surviving assassins who had witnessed the night when Feng Zhiling deployed his lethal poison beads. They also sought insights from individuals hailing from noble clans who had some information about the confrontations. From these fragmentary sources, they constructed a mental image of Feng Zhiling: a rugged individual wielding an immensely potent cultivation, a mysterious master of deadly poisons. According to these accounts, he had employed his venomous arts to vanquish numerous opponents from various sects and had laid waste to the entirety of the two great sects.
However, they were well aware that stories, especially of such magnitude, often acquired embellishments and exaggerations. When they heard these sensational tales about Feng Zhiling, their reactions were marked by skepticism.
"So, he possesses formidable cultivation?"
"How much truth is there to these claims?"
"Pah! They say he single-handedly dispatched Senior Elder Bu Jingtian with a palm strike. Who's to say he didn't resort to some deceitful stratagem? Perhaps Feng Zhiling concealed secret weapons to outmaneuver our allies!"
"I, for one, doubt that he's truly more formidable than we are!"
"As for his proficiency in poisons and his vicious reputation..."
"Humph. Even if he excels in the art of poison and wields an invincible toxin, so long as we maintain a safe distance, he'll never have an opportunity to employ it against us. What good is poison if he can't deploy it effectively?"
In essence, the information they had gathered did little to sway their opinions. Their collective might, reinforced by the potent Lunisolar Glory technique, bolstered their confidence. In their eyes, they stood as an indomitable force, unchallenged by any adversary.
Their motivation was simple; they sought to swiftly dispatch Feng Zhiling and return to their cultivation of the Lunisolar Glory. Nonetheless, they were not blind to the need for caution. Prior to their mission, they conducted a thorough investigation at Ling-Bao Hall, scrutinizing every facet of Feng Zhiling's capabilities. They meticulously orchestrated a trap, ensuring that he would have no opportunity to unleash his deadly poisons. They had painstakingly anticipated every conceivable move in Feng Zhiling's playbook.
Yet, in a cruel twist of fate, their meticulously devised plan became the very linchpin of their failure. Their strategic brilliance ultimately played into Feng Zhiling's hands. He had bided his time, steadily luring them in, all the while ascertaining the full extent of their capabilities. When the moment was ripe, he launched a calculated counterattack, turning the tide in a single decisive stroke.
Their collective memory of that encounter was etched with indescribable horror, provoked by the overwhelming might exuded by Feng Zhiling. The palpable malevolence in the air had nearly frozen their hearts, rendering them helpless in the face of such overwhelming power.
In that harrowing moment, their deepest desire was to kneel and beg for mercy.
Had they been even slightly less resilient, they might have succumbed to a state of utter helplessness, their lifeless bodies sprawled on the floor, forsaken in their most vulnerable moments.
Feng Zhiling's vigorous onslaught had left an indelible impression on their senses. His movements were nothing short of lightning incarnate, swift and precise.
In a single, relentless strike, he extinguished the lives of seven amongst their twenty-eight, a testament to his lethal efficiency. Without a moment's hesitation, he made his escape. Throughout the confrontation, he had steadfastly held the reins of control, leaving them at his mercy.
As the minutes passed, the twenty-one remaining men gradually pieced together the disconcerting reality of their situation. A collective shiver coursed through them, for they were confronted with a disconcerting question: What means existed to counter such a formidable adversary?
In their eyes, Feng Zhiling was a nightmarish entity, a foe they could never hope to vanquish.
"That man... is an abomination!"
"Indeed. His martial prowess and mastery of poison are overwhelming, and he possesses a profound and cunning intellect. At first, I doubt he was aware of our plan, but he swiftly devised a counterattack, leading us to what we believed was an advantageous position. It seemed as though we were luring him, but, in reality, he used us to dismantle our strategy, and we fell right into his trap."
"That's correct. His counterattack was so fierce and overwhelming, yet he executed it under our restraint."
"Under restraint? If not... what would have transpired?" One among them struggled to come to terms with the implications of his own question, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Words failed them. An icy sensation coursed from the soles of their feet to the peaks of their heads.
Feng Zhiling, it seemed, had only been exercising self-restraint all along. What if he had initiated the attack himself? The man who had posed the question found himself stunned by his own line of thought.
Feng Zhiling had proven to be an intractable thorn in their side.
After a prolonged silence, one of them finally spoke, his voice tinged with resignation. "To know your enemy and know yourself is the path to victory. In our case, we were well-versed in our own strengths and weaknesses, but when it came to Feng Zhiling, we were disdainful. Now, in the aftermath of our defeat, I must say it was only fitting. At the very least, we have gained a deeper understanding of Feng Zhiling. We have witnessed the devastating impact of his poison, grasped the extent of his cunning, felt the sheer power of his might, and comprehended the swiftness of his movements. He eludes our attempts at constraint. We brought this upon ourselves; I am resolute in this belief."
Sighs filled the air as they acknowledged the veracity of his words. Indeed, they had been outwitted, and worse yet, outperformed, by Feng Zhiling.
"The sole regret I harbor," another among them chimed in, "is that even after losing seven of our comrades, we still remain uncertain about the true extent of Feng Zhiling's capabilities. The display of power we witnessed today—was it eighty percent, fifty percent, or perhaps a mere thirty percent of his true strength?"
This haunting question cast a shadow over their collective psyche. For, in all its disconcerting truth, they had not borne witness to the full extent of Feng Zhiling's capabilities.
Thus, the Monarch of Feng had ensnared them in a web of deep trouble, and while they had been profoundly shaken by the encounter, they had not yet glimpsed the true breadth of his power. It bore reminding that they had never faced him head-on, a thought that continued to plague their collective conscience.