CHAPTER 270: SCUFFLE FOR THE TREASURE!

Twenty minutes before midnight,

Similar to how Qin Feng convinced the demonic tribes to fight together, the righteous tribes also aligned themselves together, letting the Qinglong tribe go after the treasure while others would defend them.

The stalemate that was maintained for almost ten minutes was broken suddenly.

A crimson streak burst from the demonic ranks — Qin Feng. Blood Qi swirled violently around him, coiling into an aura that painted the air red. In his right hand appeared the Blood Demon Sword, its edge pulsating like a beating heart.

A fire-breathing python, scales molten with spirit flame, lunged forward — its roar shaking the air.

Qin Feng’s gaze sharpened. He swung.

The sword tore through the night, unleashing a crescent arc of blood Qi that sliced the python’s fire in half before cleaving its massive head cleanly from its body. The severed head fell with a thunderous crash, rolling in a trail of crimson smoke.

"Follow Lord Qin Feng!!"

The prefecture lords of the Xue Mo tribe bellowed, their killing intent surging. They soared after him, cutting down anything that dared to block his way.

From the other side, panic erupted.

"The demonic bastards are heading for the treasure! Stop them!!" roared Tian Jian Kong, the leader of the Tian Jian tribe, pointing furiously toward Qin Feng — a blazing specter tearing through the sky, leaving death in his wake.

"Qin Feng..." murmured Wang Ling-Er, her voice trembling with pain. For a moment, her sword hand hesitated — but only for a moment. Her eyes hardened, and she spread her azure wings of Qi.

"Follow Lady Wang Ling-Er!" cried the Qinglong tribe cultivators as they soared behind her. Each swing of her Ice Dragon Sword summoned a freezing gale, shattering spirit beasts into glittering shards of frost.

"We should follow her too!" Tian Jian Kong shouted, surging forward. But before he could go far—

Phoosh!

A thick green fog exploded before him, halting his advance. His instincts screamed danger.

"It’s been a long time, Tian Jian Kong!" a chilling voice thundered through the mist.

Yedu Wuyan emerged — his palms oozing venomous Qi that hissed against the air. His strike came like lightning. Tian Jian Kong barely managed to block it, sparks flying as Qi collided.

Behind Yedu Wuyan, the cultivators of the Yedu tribe dove into the fray, their palms painting the night sky with trails of poisonous jade light.

"Tian Jian Kong! Hold on! I’m coming to help!" shouted the leader of the Baihu tribe.

But before he could advance, a sweet fragrance drifted through the air — intoxicating, almost divine.

From within the haze of petals appeared Mei Xueyao and the enchantresses of the Mei Hua Tribe, their eyes glimmering like amethyst moons.

"Warriors of the Baihu tribe," Mei Xueyao purred, her voice dripping with charm. "Let us beauties take you to heaven."

The Baihu leader’s face drained of color. "Don’t look at her!" he shouted —

Boom!

But it was too late.

From behind, his own tribe’s prefecture lord lunged at him, attacking with full force.

He blocked instinctively, his arms trembling. "Too late..." he whispered bitterly as his heart sank.

Elsewhere, chaos consumed the field.

The Tianlu tribe clashed against the Zhuji, whose leader Huan Shou

laughed wildly. "Baldies! Been a while, hasn’t it? Hahaha!"

Twin lion kings roared beside him, their claws smashing into the Tianlu leader’s shield. Overhead, Kui Long’s two lesser dragons unleashed torrents of breath attacks, while Lang Zhen’s Tempest Wolf King darted through the battlefield like lightning, conjuring tornadoes that shredded formations apart.

And amidst that storm of death—

Qin Feng advanced.

His sword howled with every swing, severing the necks of spirit beasts that dared approach. Blood splattered across his face, hot and metallic, but his eyes were unflinching.

Then—

A freezing light flashed from his flank.

Fwoosh!

An ice breath swept toward him. Qin Feng twisted away at the last instant, the frost grazing his shoulder — but the cultivator behind him wasn’t so lucky.

The man froze mid-air, his scream silenced as his body crystallized into a statue of blue ice. A heartbeat later, he shattered into shards that scattered like dying stars.

Qin Feng’s gaze snapped toward the source — Wang Ling-Er.

She hovered in the air, her expression fierce yet sorrowful, her Ice Dragon Sword glowing with ethereal frost. Behind her loomed the Ice Dragon Spirit, coiling majestically around her, roaring in defiance.

She was closer to the treasure now.

Qin Feng’s jaw tightened. Wang Biao’s life, his clan’s hope — all of it depended on him. He couldn’t fail.

"Qin Feng!" Wang Ling-Er’s voice trembled with emotion. "Stop this madness! Leave the demonic tribes and return to the Qinglong! Please!"

Her words echoed with longing — the kind that cut deeper than any sword.

But Qin Feng only spat blood and fury. "Return?

I would’ve died rotting under your tribe’s hypocrisy! Stop pitying me, Ling-Er!"

Her heart clenched. His hatred was colder than her own ice.

"Then I’ll take you back by force!" she cried, her dragon roaring as it unleashed another storm of frost.

"Enough!" Qin Feng roared. His Blood Qi erupted like a volcano, forming a scarlet wall that shattered her attack. From it, countless blades of blood shot outward, cutting through the Qinglong cultivators.

Clang! Clang!Their swords met the blood blades, but each strike slowed them, forcing them back inch by inch.

A grim smile touched Qin Feng’s lips.

The treasure was within reach now.

He surged forward, cutting through beasts — eagles of metal, antelopes of frost, wolves of wind. Blood and ice rained together, painting the battlefield in chaos.

Five minutes left.Five hundred meters.

He could already see the treasure’s radiance pulsing like a heartbeat, calling to him.

But Wang Ling-Er refused to yield. Her sword danced like a silver comet, chasing him relentlessly.

Then—

Boom!

The air trembled. Space itself rippled.

Just as Qin Feng’s hand reached out, a shadow materialized before the treasure — silent, sudden, impossible.

A man materialized out of nothingness.

An instant later, a pressure so vast it felt like the heavens themselves had descended crushed everything around him.

The air screamed. The earth cracked. Both Qin Feng and Wang Ling-Er were flung away like leaves in a storm.

"Argh!" Qin Feng coughed blood, his body trembling under the immense force.

He forced his eyes open — and froze.

The man before the treasure stood unmoving, his robes unruffled, his eyes as deep and cold as eternity itself.

An Emperor Realm expert.

Qin Feng’s breath hitched. His vision blurred with desperation.

At that moment, even the howling battlefield seemed to go silent.

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(A/N - Thanks for reading. ^..^)