Chapter 1382 - 1358: Assassin Group - Liu Yi

Chapter 1382: Chapter 1358: Assassin Group - Liu Yi

The branch in Liu Yi’s hand neither dodged nor retreated, thrusting straight toward Xiao Lin’s twin spikes.

The attack came too fast, the timing grasped to perfection, and the branch was launched exactly as Xiao Lin’s arms jolted, skewering in at a slant three inches beneath his armpit.

Rip! A gash split open, scraping across his skin, making Xiao Lin’s offensive stall for a few seconds. Seizing the chance, Liu Yi rolled the branch along and pressed up against Xiao Lin, slipping behind him; his left palm shot out and slammed into the center of Xiao Lin’s back.

A muffled groan, Xiao Lin pitched forward, the pain from his back making his chest feel stifled; a mouthful of bloody froth spilled from his lips.

No pity, no mercy—Liu Yi’s feral grin widened. He tossed the branch aside, both palms flipping and flashing as they drove straight toward Xiao Lin’s chest. His confidence in his own strength was absolute; with every strike, he could clearly read the opponent’s counters and escape routes. The split-second judgment was like seeing the Grim Reaper beckoning to the other man—thrilling.

The entire mountaintop seemed to fall silent in that moment. Xiao Lin caught a strange chill, like a kiss from the Grim Reaper, piercing straight into his heart, as if it wanted to freeze him solid. The spikes in his hands suddenly sped up; the rhythm of their dance fused perfectly with his own movement—this was that so-called growing fiercer the more you fight, potential flaring in the midst of battle.

With a savage roar, in a hideous frenzy, his twin spikes seemed to cut across space, chopping in from left and right, tearing the air, leaving afterimages hanging, driving straight for Liu Yi’s neck.

Squirt!! Scarlet blood sprayed wildly!

Liu Yi’s right hand was already driven deep into Xiao Lin’s lower abdomen, the five fingers pressed together, stabbing straight through skin into the intestines. Yet... those five fingers inside Xiao Lin’s body could go no further; the power poured into them was rapidly draining away.

Liu Yi looked down at Xiao Lin in astonishment—his vision suddenly flipped and spun, his brain seeming to lose control of his body in an instant. Though his whole being was dizzy, he still braced hard against Xiao Lin, refusing to let go even for a heartbeat.

Sharp, searing pain spread from both sides of his waist all the way across his back. That torn-apart agony was so strange, so alien, as if such a sensation shouldn’t exist for Liu Yi at all—yet now it clamped onto his heart and wouldn’t let go.

He did it. He really did it! Xiao Lin stared at his own hands, still feeling the warmth of Liu Yi’s blood on them. He couldn’t feel his own pain at all—only a nameless excitement. In front of Liu Yi, he wasn’t that helpless, one-hit pushover.

Thud, he yanked the spikes free, flecks of blood spraying everywhere. He slammed a palm into Liu Yi’s chest, forcibly wrenching himself out of Liu Yi’s grip. The wound felt like it had been filled with wind, cold and biting, and only now did that almost maddening pain truly hit.

Liu Yi, after a brief daze, let a strange smile curl at the corner of his mouth. One hand pressed over the wound on his left side, he sat down cross-legged. The sudden ceasefire, like the inexplicable start of the fight, left Xiao Lin thoroughly puzzled.

The injuries Liu Yi took from the spikes weren’t as severe as Xiao Lin had thought, but Xiao Lin, who’d been stubbornly standing, had his eyes bulging like bronze bells. He trembled as he raised his left hand to point at Liu Yi, his lips working soundlessly, unable to form words.

The wounds the spikes had pierced were miraculously healing. That impossible trace, that impossibility made fact, was all too real in Xiao Lin’s eyes. He watched the wound slowly knit together on its own, the blood congealing and gradually stopping. He suddenly wanted to rush over, grab Liu Yi, and demand the truth—but before he could take a single step, he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

After Liu Yi finished regulating his breath, he stood up. Today could be called a misstep. It was as if he could feel the emotion that flashed through Xiao Lin in that instant before he fell—shock, fury, disbelief.

Several people in White Robes carried Xiao Lin back to the Assassin Group’s quarters. Xia Xue sprinted toward Xiao Lin, but was blocked by one of them. Consort Ling frowned and pulled Xia Xue to her side.

"Lin?" Xia Xue cried out, then looked at Liu Yi, who had followed them in from outside. She swallowed her worry back down; no one’s gaze was colder than this man’s. Once he fixed his eyes on you, it was like the Grim Reaper clamping a hand around your throat—you couldn’t breathe.

The Assassin Group members carried Xiao Lin down into the basement. The heavy black iron door was shut hard in front of Xia Xue, then locked with a loud clack.

With her strength gone, Xia Xue collapsed limply into Consort Ling’s arms. She couldn’t understand why this man wanted to hurt Xiao Lin.

"He’ll be fine." Consort Ling sounded like he was comforting her, sending Xia Xue back to her room. "Wait a bit."

Just as he stepped into the room, Consort Ling caught the scent of someone else. As he drew his sword-staff, a body slumped against his right shoulder.

Xia Xue looked at the man covered in blood and filth, clapping a hand over her mouth, nearly screaming.

"Xiao Ya?" Consort Ling looked uncertainly at the man on his shoulder, gesturing for Xia Xue to stay off to the side.

With Consort Ling’s sidestep, Xiao Ya dropped fully to the floor, his body covered in wounds. Consort Ling let out a soft "Huh?" After Yelü Shou, he had left together with Xiao Ya. Now only Xiao Ya, injured, was hiding here—so where had Yelü Shou gone?

Though "Wagangnai" wasn’t Palermo’s largest organization, no one would dare run wild here, killing people in this territory—unless it was "Wagangnai" itself.

"How is he?" Xia Xue pulled out a first-aid kit. Because Consort Ling often got injured because of her, Xia Xue had gotten used to carrying a medical kit wherever she went.

"Nothing serious. All flesh wounds, no vital points hit." After carefully checking Xiao Ya’s injuries, Consort Ling let out a breath. "The back wound from a blade is relatively severe. Looks like he was taken by surprise."

"Get him on the bed. I’ll treat his wounds; the light’s better there." Xia Xue cleared the bedding off the bed, laid out a blanket, and had Consort Ling carry Xiao Ya over.

Tearing open Xiao Ya’s clothes, they realized his injuries were much worse than they looked. "He might develop a high fever tonight from inflammation. Go get some ice, and preferably some antibiotics." Xia Xue skillfully cleaned the grime and blood from the wounds, cutting away the dead flesh with a knife, sprinkling on a special medicinal powder she’d gotten from the Assassin Group, then wrapping it tightly with bandages. Only when the bleeding stopped did she consider it done.

"Why are you still standing here?" Xia Xue turned and looked at Consort Ling.

"He can’t stay here."

"No. I remember he’s Xiao Lin’s brother."

Seeing Xia Xue’s resolve, Consort Ling said nothing more and turned to leave the room.

A towel soaked in water was pressed to Xiao Ya’s forehead. Starting around midnight, he began to run a fever, muttering in his sleep. It was hard to make out what he was saying; every now and then he mentioned Xiao Lin’s name, his expression twisted in pain. (To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to go to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation votes and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please read at m.qidian.com.)