Chapter 184

The battle cries below the city gate surged like boiling water, and a thin layer of sweat beaded on Ye Fan's palm as he gripped Qín Wǎnshuāng's wrist. Thirty soul-reaping emissaries from the Blood Fiend Sect charged in a wild goose formation, the sharp whistling of their chained double-hooks tearing through the air and making eardrums ache. The small space within his Inner World was expanding at a visible rate, and the three-inch Jiuxiao Huanpei buzzed in his Sea of Consciousness, projecting the flaws of all thirty figures straight into his eyes: the third soul-reaping emissary on the left had an unhealed old injury on his left leg, causing his center of gravity to shift left when throwing his hook; the fifth one on the right had a hook chain that gleamed with an unnatural dullness under the moonlight, half an inch of rust hidden within its worn spots; the leader in the center had his Adam's apple rolling violently, the vibration frequency of the hook blade at his fingertips two beats faster than usual—it was fear. "Shuang'er, dodge three paces to the left," Ye Fan shouted in a low voice, the cyan light blade in his palm suddenly surging by three inches.