“Senior sister, weren’t we a bit too much?” A young girl with big eyes showed a look of reluctance and whispered to another girl.

“You’re just too soft-hearted! You have to know, the world of martial artists is all about taking by force—without strength, how can you deserve to own treasures?” The other girl looked completely unconcerned.

Henry Dawson’s face was expressionless, but the fire in his heart was burning ever stronger. He could tolerate them taking the corpse of the three-tailed wolf sculpture, but as for the treasure hidden behind that rock, he was determined to get it!

“Kid, don’t just stand there like an idiot. We’re disciples of White Jade Valley!” A young man with triangular eyes stepped forward, his expression full of arrogance.

White Jade Valley—what’s that?

Seeing the confusion flash across Henry Dawson’s face, the eight people all showed a trace of disdain, as if not having heard of White Jade Valley was the height of ignorance.

Because of this, they looked down on Henry Dawson even more, not taking him seriously at all.

“Hurry up and get lost!” The triangular-eyed youth, emboldened, reached out to push Henry Dawson.

Swish—a sword flashed, its cold light slicing through the air!

The triangular-eyed youth was shocked—he never expected Henry Dawson would actually dare to attack him! Now it was too late to defend himself; he hurriedly tried to push off with his feet and retreat.

However, to his horror, he found that his body couldn’t move!

Chapter 7: Ink Fruit

It was as if he was fighting against the heavens and earth themselves—just moving his body meant resisting an immense pressure from all around!

Even though the triangular-eyed youth was at the peak of Body Refinement Level Five, and in terms of strength was still a notch above Henry Dawson, in the face of this sword strike, he couldn’t even dodge!

—In reality, it wasn’t the world suppressing him, but his mind had been completely dominated by the sword’s momentum! Only when Henry Dawson’s sword reached his chest did he barely react, but by then it was already too late!

To the others, it was an incredibly bizarre scene: Henry Dawson thrust his sword, and the triangular-eyed youth just stood there like a fool, not even trying to dodge or block, letting the sword stab straight into him.

Puff!

The sword pierced directly through the triangular-eyed youth’s heart. As Henry Dawson withdrew his blade, a torrent of blood gushed from the heart chamber like a pump, spraying out nearly two meters.

Henry Dawson immediately felt a wave of intense weakness. Although he had already recovered part of his true essence, this sword strike had consumed nearly half of it again, leaving him almost completely drained!

He quickly retreated, leaping behind the rock. His gaze swept over the area, and he saw that beneath the stone grew a strange herb, only about two inches tall, jet black throughout with not a trace of any other color. It had five leaves, spread out like umbrellas, and at the top hung a similarly black fruit, only slightly larger than a grain of rice.

Was this the treasure that made the black broken sword tremble?

Without hesitation, Henry Dawson darted forward, grabbed the black fruit at the top, and, without pausing for even a moment, sped away.

“Bastard!”

“Damn animal!”

“Brother Niu!”

Only then did the remaining seven react, all letting out furious shouts. Two of them rushed to check on the triangular-eyed youth, while the other five chased after Henry Dawson.

Henry Dawson snorted coldly in his heart. When these people were acting so overbearing before, why didn’t they consider the consequences? Now that someone’s dead, suddenly they know how to be angry!

Who doesn’t have a bit of a temper?

Originally, he could have just taken the black fruit and left, but since they were so aggressive, how could he not teach them a lesson?

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—figures darted through the dense forest as the two groups began a fierce chase.

Henry Dawson kept changing his route, gradually widening the gap between himself and his pursuers, but he still hadn’t completely shaken them off. He wasn’t worried, though—the mountain forest was complex, and as long as he could drag things out until nightfall, once the light faded, even fifty people wouldn’t be able to catch him, let alone five!

Unfortunately, the Nine Forms of Ling Tian consumed too much true essence. One sword strike had cost him nearly half his reserves; otherwise, he could have taken them out one by one, and the roles of hunter and hunted would have been reversed.

The five behind him also knew that chasing after dark would be difficult, so they shouted angrily, even taunting Henry Dawson to stop and fight.

Henry Dawson paid them no mind, simply pushing his speed to the limit and running with all his might.

Heaven seemed to be on his side—before night fully fell, dark clouds gathered and a steady rain began to pour.

The forest was already dimly lit, and now it grew even darker. The five pursuers called out to each other to keep from getting separated, but judging by the sound of their voices, they were getting farther and farther from Henry Dawson.

The rain only grew heavier. When the last ray of sunlight disappeared, the forest became so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. The shouts behind him grew fainter and more distant—Henry Dawson knew he had pretty much shaken off his pursuers.

He didn’t stop, though—he was still far from being at a safe distance.

With almost no light in the forest, Henry Dawson didn’t dare run too fast. The ground was now wet and slippery, and if he wasn’t careful, he could crash into a tree—then haste would make waste. He slowed his pace, his movements becoming even lighter and more agile.