Chapter Thirty-Five: Power of the Origin in the Dark Night

Wang Fan burst out from the crowd with a forceful, almost domineering presence. Behind him, Zhao Fan witnessed Wang Fan’s charge and his pupils contracted sharply—was Wang Fan courting death?

Zhao Fan didn’t believe Wang Fan stood a chance against so many ferocious beasts. In his eyes, Wang Fan’s reckless dash from the group was nothing but a death wish.

In truth, Zhao Fan was not alone in his thoughts. Nearly everyone present believed Wang Fan’s actions amounted to self-destruction. Just moments ago, over a dozen people had already fallen victim to the venomous snakes, their lives snuffed out in agony. Now, Wang Fan was charging straight at the serpents. Could he really change the tide of battle? Clearly impossible. Not a single soul believed Wang Fan could alter the outcome.

But in the next instant, Wang Fan collided with the venomous snakes. At the very moment of impact, he unleashed the Disha Assassination Technique. Boundless vital energy surged from his body into every limb and bone. In that instant, his hands were empowered, his fingernails sharpened to an extreme—sharper than military blades—slicing through the night and severing the head of a seven-colored snake mid-leap. The snake’s head dropped cleanly, its body writhing in the air.

After decapitating the first snake, three more leapt toward him, lightning-fast, tongues flickering and jaws agape, eager to inject their deadly venom into Wang Fan. This scene, witnessed by the onlookers, left them certain Wang Fan was finished. After all, he now faced three seven-colored venomous snakes.

Yet in the following moment, everyone saw something that stunned them. The man in the hat—Wang Fan—remained unwavering, stretching out his hands without hesitation. His fingers sliced through the air, decapitating two snakes in a single motion. As the third snake lunged at him, he kicked it fiercely, sending it hurtling ten meters away to crash violently against a towering tree.

How could this be? The snakes were so swift—how was he able to intercept them?

Many were dumbfounded, unable to believe Wang Fan possessed such skill. Two people were needed to handle a single seven-colored snake, yet this man in the hat could face three or four alone with ease. The scene left all present in awe.

A gleam of admiration flashed in Zhao Fan’s eyes as he watched Wang Fan dispatch the venomous snakes. He activated his martial internal energy, invoking the Dragon’s Eye technique. Through his altered vision, he observed the slowed movements of the snakes and Wang Fan, and wondered silently—could his brother Wang also possess an eye technique?

Watching Wang Fan’s relentless battle, Zhao Fan gripped his alloy spear tightly. His previously timid heart now brimmed with renewed courage. He felt a restless urge to join the fight.

“Please, young master, do not intervene. The venom of those seven-colored snakes is deadly. If you come into contact with it, there is no hope—you will surely die,” one bodyguard urged.

“Yes, that's right, Young Master Zhao. You absolutely must not join the fight. If you’re poisoned, it’s over. We have no antidote,” another advised.

Zhao Fan’s bodyguards had noticed their master’s growing eagerness to act and pleaded with him.

“No, I am also a cultivator, a martial artist. Brother Wang has stepped up—why shouldn’t I? Trust in your young master’s abilities!” Zhao Fan retorted.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Fan recalled the potency of the seven-colored snakes’ venom. He glanced again at Wang Fan, locked in fierce combat, and summoned his courage. Spear in hand, he strode forward, claiming his identity as the inheritor of Mount Chang’s Zhao Zilong legacy, and allowed his martial strength to surge as he marched forward to support Wang Fan.

Wang Fan, embroiled in battle with the venomous snakes, sent two airborne snakes flying with powerful kicks. Hearing Zhao Fan behind him, declaring his intention to join the fight, Wang Fan frowned slightly—not at the snakes, but at Zhao Fan’s desire to assist him.

“You need not help me, Young Master Zhao. As your bodyguards said, the venom of these snakes is extraordinarily lethal. Each snake’s poison can claim a life in mere seconds, leaving no time to seek an antidote. Please, stay put and simply watch. Do not risk yourself,” Wang Fan said, his meaning clear: he would handle the enemies alone, with absolute confidence in exterminating all the snakes. In fact, he was concerned that if Zhao Fan entered the fray and was bitten, their collaborative agreement in the Greater Z Mountain Range would be ruined.

“What are you talking about? I have the Xuan-level inheritance, am a descendant of Changshan Zhao Zilong, and besides, we’re partners!” Zhao Fan declared, stepping onto the battlefield, channeling his martial strength, and thrusting his alloy spear into the grass. The spear struck a seven-colored snake, tearing its body and spilling blood on the earth.

Wang Fan glanced sidelong at Zhao Fan, noting the resolute shine in his eyes, though his hands trembled, as if forcing himself to adapt to the beast-filled battleground and the deadly serpent crisis. Realizing this, Wang Fan spoke softly, “Alright then, let’s fight together. Good luck!”

Though he spoke of fighting side by side, in reality Wang Fan was not truly collaborating; while battling snakes, he was also continually concerned for Zhao Fan’s safety, lest the young master act rashly.

Wang Fan wielded his fingernails as weapons, harvesting snakes amid the swarm. Whenever a snake launched a surprise attack, Wang Fan’s auditory and visual senses detected it, allowing him to dispatch each snake with ease using the Disha Assassination Technique. With his perfected first-level spirit and soul, such feats were effortless.

In just a few dozen seconds, most of the snakes had fallen to Wang Fan. At that moment, Zhao Fan, spear in hand, grew emboldened. He broke from Wang Fan’s protective flank, and as he did, several remaining snakes immediately targeted him, lunging straight at his body.

As the snakes closed in, Zhao Fan’s eyes shone with the power of the Dragon’s Eye technique. He raised his alloy spear and swept it in a crescent arc, decapitating one snake. However, two others used the spear’s shaft as a springboard, launching themselves at Zhao Fan with alarming speed.

Cold sweat broke out on Zhao Fan’s forehead, fear flickering in his eyes. Just as he believed his end had come, Wang Fan, ever vigilant, frowned deeply. He hadn’t expected Zhao Fan to act so recklessly, breaking away from his protection and becoming easy prey for the snakes.

There was no time to retreat; only special means would suffice.

This realization flashed through Wang Fan’s mind. In the next instant, he tapped into the special power within his body, absorbing the essence of the night. His body merged with the darkness, accelerating like a deadly serpent assassin. He closed the distance to Zhao Fan in a heartbeat, his hands stretching out, the air echoing with the hissing of snakes. In that instant, the heads of the two seven-colored venomous snakes lunging at Zhao Fan were severed, crimson blood dripping from Wang Fan’s blood-red, eerie fingernails.