He could do nothing.

He watched helplessly as the uncles were killed by the thugs Jiang Feng had summoned, and saw the junior brothers create a commotion, divide the family estate, seize the master's relics, and even violently attack him, adding injury to injury.

They even coerced him into handing over his Qiankun Bag, and in the end, he was no match for the two junior brothers. The injuries he had painstakingly nurtured worsened, his dantian and meridians ruptured, and he barely escaped with his life. Most despairingly, the two junior brothers took away his Qiankun Bag.

He wasn't distressed about the cultivation treasures inside, but what truly shattered his last psychological defense was the lost relics.

Inside the Qiankun Bag was the carefully selected birthday gift he had chosen for his junior sister, which was also her last relic, along with the teachings from his master and the shattered lifebound magical treasure. He didn't care about the quality or value of these things, but they were the only things he could hold onto.

After hiding in the mountains for a few days, he barely regained some ability to move and some cultivation. When he limped back to the Fan Yin Sect, what he saw was the remnants of the sect burned by fire and...

The unearthed graves, surrounded by vultures and wild dogs gnawing on the corpses.

Broken bodies were everywhere, and the corpse of Wu Mingsheng, which he had personally sewn together during the interment, was once again torn apart. Many bodies were nowhere to be found, seemingly eaten clean by wild dogs and vultures.

What made him emotionally numb was that his junior sister's corpse had been stripped bare.

To prevent his junior sister's corpse from decaying, he had spent a fortune to craft a magical treasure from a cloth imbued with spiritual energy, to preserve her body. But he never imagined these vile beasts would even take that garment.

He could even see signs of desecration on the bodies...

In fact, from that moment on, Wu Daoxu was already dead. What remained in this world was a soulless, mindless shell, a corpse driven by obsession.

From then on, this once high disciple of the Fan Yin Sect roamed the streets aimlessly, gathering news on his former junior brothers, though his strength regressed more than progressed. From a mid-grade Foundation Establishment, his injuries and broken spirit caused his realm to fall to a low-grade Foundation Establishment.

Later, he could hardly recall much, living in a haze, only remembering someone sought him while he was loitering on the streets, curled up in a corner. He sensed that this person was extraordinary, but the person did nothing but observe him, while Wu Daoxu continued to curl up and daydream.

However, he remembered the words the person spoke.

"Though your talent is lacking, this temperament is quite fitting. The Filth Ming Ghost Devouring Technique suits you well in your utter desolation."

"Take it, if you wish to avenge yourself against the disciples of prestigious sects, study it well. Otherwise, even with a century, your talent could never surpass them."

"Blood, soul, and spirit; this cultivation technique is venomous and can affect others' sanity, but if you maintain your Dao heart, it becomes among the best techniques in the world."

"Young one, cultivate well. We may meet again if destiny allows."

All he remembered were those words, then he idly picked up the cultivation technique to glance through it, realizing it was perfect for his current state. Previously, he wouldn't have even considered cultivating it; at the sight of an evil cultivator wielding such a technique, he would've long drawn his sword.

Each day, aside from studying the cultivation technique, he scoured for information about Jiang Feng and his junior brothers, and once his body healed, he hunted them down one by one, ensuring they died in the most painful ways, and then refined their flesh and soul!

Though some disciples remained unaccounted for, he continued to uphold the last bit of dignity of the Fan Yin Sect in his own way. Now, the man who changed his life stood before him, eyes red with rage, and no one could imagine how he endured those three years.

It was all because of Jiang Feng.

"I want your life! I want your life!"

The beast-like roar was deafening, spiritual energy as dark as ink, not particularly potent but extremely murky, domineering. His steel-flesh physique punched through the iron wire, with bulging veins resembling those on his neck.

Clang—

He stepped back, blocking with a weapon, but what followed was another tiger claw. It was evident that Wu Daoxu had completely abandoned the Fan Yin Sect's ultimate skills.

"Black Demon Claw!"

The other hand also struck, though the decay wasn't as terrifying, the speed was incredibly fast, leaving no room to dodge. Even Jiang Feng was taken aback by the sudden change, as even he had to momentarily evade such might.

Oh, by momentarily evading, he didn't mean running but rather not confronting it directly and instead, countering it with his own techniques.

"Demolishing Demon Frost Palm."

Raising his hand, he instinctively clashed against it.

Boom!

This time, the sound was distinctly different.

Black clouds and icy mist rose in the forest; when it came to executing daoist techniques and mastering them, Jiang was no amateur. Though his cultivation realm was low, his spiritual energy was exceptionally pure. To put it plainly, it was the difference between pork and beef — the density is not on the same level, and the same applied to the physical body.

In a direct clash, the smoke dispersed. Jiang Feng was still standing where he was, though he took two steps back, barely able to maintain his stance, his feet sinking into the mud up to his calves. On the other side, Wu Daoxu was not nearly as composed as Jiang Feng.

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