4: Chapter 4: Punishing Me to the Forbidden Area?

The strong wind scraped his skin raw, and that withered eagle-claw expanded rapidly in Ye Feng's pupils.

He couldn't dodge it.

The gap in Realm was too vast; at the Qi Gathering Realm, he was no different from an ant before this strike.

Instead of retreating, Ye Feng advanced, thrusting his chest forward to meet it.

The black hole inside his body spun rapidly, pushing all his remaining blood and Qi up to his crown.

"Want to kill me?"

"Then let's see if your claws are harder, or if my life is harder."

"As long as our skin makes contact, even for an instant, I will drain your spiritual energy and self-destruct, taking you down with me."

"Even if I die, I'll break your teeth."

Just as the sharp claws were about to touch Ye Feng's hair.

A brown afterimage, carrying a sharp whistling sound, struck Sun Kui's wrist with precision.

With a crisp crack, the wrist bone dislocated.

Sun Kui let out a muffled groan, his Protective Aura shattered, and he staggered back three steps, cracking the bluestone floor with every step.

The brown afterimage bounced back, spun in mid-air, and landed steadily in a hand covered in calluses.

It was a blackened, well-worn wine gourd.

"Which bastard is touching my people?"

A strong stench of cheap alcohol instantly spread, overpowering the smell of blood in the arena.

The Old Cripple limped out from the crowd of onlookers, shaking the gourd in his hand, his cloudy old eyes half-open and half-closed, as if he hadn't fully woken up yet.

"Elder Sun, what great majesty you display," the Old Cripple hiccuped. "The Inner Sect doesn't concern itself with the Outer Sect, and the Punishment Hall doesn't meddle with the Servant quarters. This boy chops wood for me in the back mountain; even if he committed a heavenly crime, it should be up to this old man to take him back and deal with him. It is not your place to lay a hand on him."

Sun Kui clutched his throbbing wrist, his Face turning livid.

Just as he was about to lash out, his gaze suddenly froze on the Old Cripple's waist.

Hanging there was a rusty iron plaque, with the character 'Tomb' faintly engraved on it.

The Gravekeeper Token.

The muscles at the corner of Sun Kui's eyes twitched twice, and the murderous intent that was about to erupt was forcibly suppressed.

There was a rule in the Sect: anyone holding this token could not be touched by anyone except the Sect Master.

"Fine, very fine."

Sun Kui stared fixedly at Ye Feng with venomous eyes. "Since he is from the Servant quarters, this Elder will give you some Face. However, this wretch committed violence in public and harmed his fellow Disciple; his death penalty may be spared, but his living punishment is unavoidable."

Sun Kui waved his large sleeve, his voice cold. "Punished to the abandoned Sword Tomb to guard the graves for three months. If he dares to step out a single step before the time is up, he will be killed without mercy."

The abandoned Sword Tomb.

Hearing these three words, the surrounding Disciples gasped.

It was where the Sect's discarded weapons from the past millennium were piled up; the metallic Evil Qi there was so dense it had turned poisonous. An ordinary person would have their Meridians shattered after staying there for three days. Three months—that was enough to refine a person alive into a dried corpse.

This was even crueler than killing him outright.

The Old Cripple said nothing, only tilted his head to take a swig of wine, tacitly agreeing.

Two Law Enforcement Disciples rushed up like wolves and tigers, grabbing Ye Feng from both sides and dragging him out roughly.

As they passed the edge of the arena, the armless Zhao Kuang was lying in a pool of blood, receiving treatment.

Seeing this, Zhao Kuang ignored his excruciating pain and roared, "Ye Feng! You will die in there! I will be waiting outside to collect your corpse, and I will tear you into ten thousand pieces!"

Ye Feng was dragged along, his feet carving two bloodstains into the ground.

He struggled to turn his head.

On that Face covered in blood and grime, he suddenly broke into a brilliant smile.

Ye Feng raised his right hand and made a light, non-threatening slashing motion across his neck.

"Wait for it."

This scene fell into Zhao Kuang's eyes, scaring him so much that he spat out another mouthful of blood and fainted on the spot.

Ye Feng was thrown heavily into a fully enclosed iron prisoner carriage, the door slamming shut and blocking out all light.

In the darkness, the wheels rolled over gravel, the jolting so severe that it felt like his internal organs were shifting.

He didn't know how much time had passed; the noisy voices faded away, and everything around him became deathly silent.

The prisoner carriage stopped abruptly.

"We're here, get out!"

The Law Enforcement Disciple opened the carriage door with disgust and kicked Ye Feng out.

This was the Forbidden Ground of the back mountain, where cold winds blew in gusts.

Before him was the entrance to a valley, with cliffs on both sides as if carved by knives and axes; not a blade of grass grew there.

Gray mist shrouded the valley entrance, and the air drifted with a heavy scent of rust and decay.

That was the abandoned Sword Tomb.

The Law Enforcement Disciple, as if avoiding a plague god, dumped Ye Feng and drove away, as if staying one second longer would shorten his life.

Ye Feng climbed up from the ground and brushed the dust off his body.

This is a death trap?

This is the punishment?

He took a deep breath.

The metallic Evil Qi, which was enough to cause the lungs of an ordinary Cultivator to fester, surged into his nasal cavity. Far from bringing pain, it caused the long-dormant hunger inside his body to erupt completely.

He could feel that every corner of his body was craving this energy, an impulse stemming from instinct.

Ye Feng licked his cracked lips, looking at the dim mist before him, the corners of his mouth curling into an arc.

This is no grave.

This is clearly an Opportunity gifted to him by the heavens.

He lifted his leg and stepped into the roiling gray mist.

A crisp sound of metal shattering came from under his feet; it seemed he had stepped on a broken blade.