Chapter Seventy-Six: The Sinner

Aside from Nightfeather and Luo Feng, even "From Wenjiushi," who hailed from the old server, was utterly dumbfounded. When Qu Zheng unleashed his "Spirit Flash" at the end, everyone witnessed the staggering damage he dealt. In the entire "Xuan Tian" server, it would be difficult to find another stealth-class player capable of inflicting such explosive, penetrating damage at this level.

Of course, Qu Zheng paid a considerable price; his body entered a state of severe weakness, and his health was down to just 21%. After resolving the situation, Qu Zheng emerged with cold sweat dripping from his forehead, clearly shaken by the ordeal.

Yet, he had indeed completed a solo feat, dispatching the elite-grade vine monsters. Though he had become severely weakened, he managed to handle the wave of elite monsters without anyone falling in battle.

“That was close,” Qu Zheng said, collapsing onto the ground. At that moment, Luo Feng stepped forward, raising his left hand; radiant green light shimmered forth, and rings of crystalline green aura emerged around Qu Zheng.

“My goodness!” Huang Hong’s expression changed slightly, his gaze toward Qu Zheng as if he were witnessing a monster. “The youngest actually slew four elite vine monsters—how is that... possible?”

“Enough chatter. Remember, each of you gets one thousand gold coins,” Nightfeather turned to the group, his lips curving into a gentle smile, though to the others, that warmth seemed more akin to a predator eyeing its prey.

“I suspect his talent tree skills are extraordinary, and his technique flows like water. He’s quite the understated player,” mused “From Wenjiushi,” a spark of insight flashing through his eyes. He had discerned Qu Zheng’s most distinctive trait—his talent tree skills. Yet, it was impossible to know the specifics, and deducing them from the battle before him was equally futile. After all, he was no “Liang Ye,” the cerebral strategist.

“My heart was pounding in my throat just now, afraid I’d get dragged into the fray and then…” Qu Zheng’s face betrayed panic and fear, but Nightfeather merely shot him an exasperated glance.

“You just lack experience,” “From Wenjiushi” said gravely. He too noticed that the player known as “the youngest” often presented an innocuous demeanor, but once combat began, his style transformed in a heartbeat.

Still, Nightfeather now had a clear understanding of everyone’s fighting prowess, especially the player from the old server, “From Wenjiushi.” Nightfeather observed his technique carefully—his combat style was versatile, yet he remained composed even in this environment. Clearly, in the old server, “From Wenjiushi” was not one to be underestimated; otherwise, how could he have become a renowned figure among the red-named players?

Nightfeather and the others pressed onward, slaughtering every vine monster they encountered. Perhaps due to their relatively advanced AI, these monsters began to avoid the party; some peeked out, and upon seeing Nightfeather and his companions, immediately retreated into shadowy fissures.

Eventually, Nightfeather and his group stopped before a chasm, a bottomless abyss that seemed a true pit with no end in sight. Below, darkness pressed upward, instilling an inexplicable sense of dread in all who looked down. Black mist continuously seeped from within, carrying a thick, metallic scent of blood, mingled with a nauseating stench.

“This must be where the boss resides,” Nightfeather said, brows furrowed as he pinched his nose, unable to bear the odor.

“But judging by the scene, how are we supposed to trigger the boss fight?” Luo Feng asked gravely. The abyss radiated a palpable sense of unease, but unless it could be triggered, the boss would remain elusive.

Nightfeather said nothing, instead looking at “From Wenjiushi.” Though his face was calm, when their eyes met, he shrugged helplessly and stepped forward.

“From Wenjiushi” turned to Nightfeather, smiling, “You can call me Old Hu from now on.”

The instant he spoke, a powerful current surged around Old Hu. He slammed his great shield to the ground, sending a fierce gust before him. Then, he swept his greatsword horizontally, unleashing a sharp, penetrating blade of energy that dispersed the blood-stained black mist hovering over the chasm. Apart from Nightfeather, everyone fell silent, somewhat speechless.

“Wait,” Nightfeather uttered a single word. The group’s expressions shifted; they realized Nightfeather had sensed something, and watched intently, their faces growing serious.

Time ticked by. Gradually, the black mist Old Hu had dispersed began to gather and recede back into the abyss. Not only from the chasm, but from the entire desolate forest around them, all the black mist rushed toward the abyss, as if summoned by some evil force.

From every direction, black mist sped toward the chasm, pouring in relentlessly. No one knew how much time passed, but eventually, all the mist from the surroundings was absorbed into the abyss. Nightfeather and the others could no longer detect the slightest trace of black mist escaping, not even from the fissures in the ground.

Suddenly, a shadow shot out from the depths of the abyss. Before Nightfeather and the others could react, it had already passed through their ranks, stopping with a sharp sound behind them. Turning, they saw a figure nearly two meters tall, shrouded in swirling black mist, holding a three-foot-long black blade. The sword was so slender that its razor edge was apparent even to the naked eye.

Nightfeather’s black eyes flashed coldly as he gazed at the figure, feeling an uncontrollable chill. Old Hu’s expression changed, his brows knitting as he murmured, “It’s the Sinner.”

…