[???]

If there were a Heart Core willing to dig out Pacquiao's thoughts at this moment, then the sky above Xinquan would likely be filled with question marks, endless and boundless.

What the hell is going on, where did this mad dog come from?

Pacquiao was originally overlooking the battlefield, observing its changes, when suddenly a chill swept over the back of his head—

Just a moment ago, they were at each other's throats, now out of nowhere, a bizarre figure rushed in, shouting things like 'Don't hurt my father, Old Deng, prepare to die'...

Its lethality wasn't much, but damn, it was terrifying!

Boom!

In the blink of an eye, it was upon him, then an axe halberd, a spear, two heavy swords swung towards his forehead. Not only that, a hand wielding a sickle attempted a sneak attack, while another pulled a revolver from its holster, unloading the chamber in an instant!

Suddenly, it was as if six people attacked simultaneously, their ferocity and cruelty opening everyone's eyes.

Unfortunately, the Rank... was worlds apart!

"Get lost!"

Pacquiao didn't even turn his head, steady as a rock holding the Blood Banner, the other hand swiftly drew a dagger from his waist.

With anger fueling his strike, the crimson blade wrapped in Blood Flames swept down.

In an instant, Blood Flames surged and roiled, a ruthless strike powered by the Transcend Rank, a lifetime of battle experience, combined with the Withering Destructive Power, Fire Fierce Wind Sweep, and Annihilate blessing chain, cleaving the axe halberd, spear, swords, sickle, and revolver into dust.

The bullets aimed at vital spots evaporated into ashes before they could touch him, incinerated by the Blood Flames.

Resembling a blood-red torrent surging to the heavens.

With a casual strike, the blade's light condensed to the extreme, slashing Tang Qian from the center in two, the violent airwaves and aftermath raging forward, tearing through the void as they roared away.

The boiling streams of Long River, the mud-covered shallows, and the widespread rain suddenly fractured, and under the wrathful strike, everything in its path was sliced in two.

Yet—

Crack!

The thunderous sound was abruptly interrupted by a soft noise, the falling dagger halted.

Right in front of Tang Qian's uplifted four hands!

On the blade edge wrapped in Blood Flames, two hands appeared out of nowhere to clamp down!

Empty-handed against the blade!

In that fleeting, brief moment, it effortlessly defused the savage intent and sharp edge, not only guiding the same clan's destructive power behind him, exempting over 80% of the damage, but also with a never-before-seen uncanny skill, precariously clamping the mountain-breaking sea-splitting dagger.

The price was his whole body almost shredded by the brutal impact, blood streaming, battered and bruised, yet in a single blink, the terrifying recovery ability of the Great Group restored him to normal.

And at the moment of clamping the blade edge, Tang Qian's other two hands already gripped his left hand, forming thin, crimson chains between his fingers within the Spiritual Flow, locking him down!

"...Far too distant."

A dull sigh sounded, like an appraisal.

From Tang Qian's neck, rising blood flesh slowly revealed an ugly, scarred face with one blind eye. No trace of warmth or kindness, the old woman's face was fierce and ghostlike: "The younger generations are reduced to seeking helpers for such trash?"

On the other side, the head of the fourth ancestor emerged slowly, lamenting: "A proper 'Fierce Roll' turned into this lousy form, I'm telling you, this Great Group, one generation worse than the last!"

You damn...

Tang Qian and Pacquiao's expressions simultaneously shifted.

Tang Qian, mocked by his ghostly ancestors, was disregarded, but as the two Old Deng ghostly faces appeared, Pacquiao's pupils contracted, a chill ran down his spine!

In his perception, the spectral body's originally erratic Spiritual Fluctuation suddenly surged and exploded like a rocket, transforming relentlessly.

And as the Spiritual Flow surged, at the peak of Transcend, a spear shrouded in endless storms and lightning appeared from the wrinkled and aged arm, aiming at his face, piercing forth!

The fourth ancestor's cloudy eyes shot fierce light, cold and contemptuous.

—Where did this worthless chicken find such death!

In that instant, Pacquiao could no longer maintain any pretense or composure, violently struggling, yet the crimson chains entwined on his left hand restrained his movement, locking him down!

The old woman watched coldly, manipulating Tang Qian's arm, effortlessly controlling Spiritual far weaker than before, chains morphing, suppressing a Spiritual surge ten times its size, sealing it momentarily.

Suddenly, the Blood Banner vanished.

The spear in Pacquiao's right hand barely rose, against the storm and thunder chaos, collided with the Dragon Hunting Spear, as crimson ripples spread, finally breaking free of the chains, staggering back!

Countless already stood dumbfounded, unable to believe...

In Pacquiao's chest, a sizable hole had appeared!

As blood and bone crawled, slowly and painfully healing...

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