Chapter 215: Visualization Great Art

Thump, thump, thump…

In the depths of the underground, within a chamber filled with poisonous mist, deafening low thuds echoed one after another.

The glow on Mu Feng’s Blood Armor grew dimmer and dimmer until it eventually collapsed completely. His back, legs, shoulders, and other areas were struck heavily, leaving his flesh torn and bloody.

Taking advantage of the dense mist’s cover, Old Monk Jingxu, wielding the Heavenly Zen Wheel, moved unpredictably, launching wave after wave of fierce attacks. Each time he struck, whether he hit his target or not, he would retreat immediately, never giving Mu Feng a chance to counterattack.

The thick mist, crafted from some unknown substance, not only made one feel drowsy and disoriented but also blocked spiritual sense. Trapped within the mist, Mu Feng could not see, his ears and nose were useless—he was like a deaf and mute blind man, helpless and at the mercy of his enemy.

Restriction!

This was not merely a dense mist; it was a highly advanced restriction!

Mu Feng quickly understood what was happening. However, understanding alone did not help him—under the old monk’s relentless attacks, he had no chance to use Ancient Witchcraft to break the formation.

“Hahaha, a stinking brat in the Mortal Realm thinks he can turn the tables? Keep dreaming!”

“Damned pest, you ruined this master’s plans. Now you’ll pay with your life!”

…

Old Monk Jingxu laughed heartily, frequently launching his vicious assaults.

Seeing Mu Feng’s injuries worsen, the old monk laughed even louder, a savage expression on his face as he swore to tear Mu Feng into pieces that very day.

A prime Cauldron had slipped through his fingers, and a stronghold he’d managed for years had to be abandoned—all because of Mu Feng’s interference.

The mere thought of Mu Feng’s destruction filled him with bitter hatred.

Thump…

Another heavy blow landed—this time, the old monk’s crescent blade struck Mu Feng’s chest with tremendous force, nearly shattering his internal organs.

“Hahaha! You tough brat, I see your body is surprisingly sturdy. But let’s see how many more strikes you can take. This time, it’s your chest—next time, I’ll split it open and pull out your heart!”

The old monk’s voice drifted through the dense mist, his figure flickering unpredictably—one moment to the east, the next to the west—making it impossible to track his location.

Heart?

Suddenly, something clicked in Mu Feng’s mind. He gripped his sword with both hands, drove its tip into the ground, and stopped his futile efforts to track the monk’s position. Instead, he sat down cross-legged. Focusing his gaze on his nose, and his mind on his heart, he swiftly calmed himself, entering a state of tranquil clarity.

Far from being rattled by the old monk’s biting words, they had reminded him of something his Family Patriarch once said:

A person’s eyes can be deceived, their spiritual sense misled—only the mind can see past illusions to perceive the true nature of things.

“Huh? Brat, are you trying to die?”

Seeing Mu Feng suddenly sit cross-legged so strangely, the old monk, hidden in the mist, let out a startled cry.

Mu Feng’s reaction was utterly unexpected.

He didn’t beg for mercy or show any sign of pain despite being covered in blood—he was as tough as nails. Yet, he didn’t appear disheartened or resigned to death either. His expression was calm, with not a hint of despair.

Could it be that one could kill without even moving?

An absurd and ridiculous idea suddenly surfaced in the old monk’s mind.

Having trained in the Heavenly Zen Sect for so long and traveled the Great Thousand World for over a hundred years, he had never heard of such a power. The only explanation was that Mu Feng had lost his senses—or, affected by the poisonous mist, he had begun to hallucinate.

“Hahaha, interesting, very interesting! Brat, a year from today will be the anniversary of your death!”

Recovering from his surprise, the old monk burst into laughter and lunged at Mu Feng, raising the Heavenly Zen Wheel high. This time, he put all his strength into the attack, aiming to crush Mu Feng’s skull and finish him off for good.

But after taking only a few steps, before he could get close to Mu Feng’s seated form, a blood-red vine suddenly appeared out of thin air. Glowing with crimson light, it stretched horizontally across the entire chamber.

“What’s this?”

The old monk didn’t dare be careless and halted abruptly.

Before he could take a closer look, whoosh—another vine appeared in the air, sweeping past him and stretching vertically through the chamber.

One horizontal, one vertical—the two vines intersected at the center where Mu Feng sat, forming a large cross.

“Huh… what trick is this brat playing?”

The old monk yelped in surprise, instinctively sensing danger. Gritting his teeth, he prepared to charge at Mu Feng and smash his head before the situation escalated.

Yet, whoosh—four vines appeared simultaneously around him, barring his path.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…

Before the old monk could react, more and more vines appeared in the air. Gradually, they became too numerous to count, enveloping the entire chamber. First sealing it shut, then slowly encroaching inward, shrinking the space the old monk could move in.

Visualization Great Art!

At this critical moment, Mu Feng calmed his mind and employed the mysterious Visualization Great Art. He visualized himself as a millennia-old towering tree, with tough roots sprouting from his body—digging deep into the earth and reaching into the sky, forming a three-dimensional sensory network that left no gaps.

Though the poisonous mist restriction blinded his sight and spiritual sense, the moment the old monk so much as brushed against the Blood Vines condensed from his own blood energy, Mu Feng sensed it immediately.

Though the sinister Ghost Mother had her own sinister motives, the power of the technique she taught was undeniable. Mu Feng couldn’t refute that. Slowly, as more Blood Vines filled the chamber, though he still couldn’t pinpoint the monk’s exact location, he steadily forced him into an increasingly narrow space.

So it was true—one could kill without even moving!

Looking at the multiplying Blood Vines around him, Old Monk Jingxu’s laughter died in his throat. Instead, a deep fear welled up from the depths of his soul.

A mere Mortal Realm cultivator!

He had encountered many outstanding talents before, but never had he seen a cultivator—only at the Mortal Realm Peak—with such terrifying power and abilities.

As the Blood Vines multiplied, the chamber gradually filled with swirling, scorching heat. The temperature rose so high that the floor grew hot to the touch, and the poisonous mist began to evaporate bit by bit.

Accidentally touching a Blood Vine made his fingers burn with a sharp sting. Continuing like this, even if Mu Feng didn’t strike personally, the old monk would either be strangled by the dreadful vines or suffocated by the blistering heat.

“Damn brat, I’ll fight you to the death!”

Realizing that waiting would only lead to disaster, Old Monk Jingxu had no choice but to risk everything. Clutching the Heavenly Zen Wheel, he charged desperately toward Mu Feng.

Biting the tip of his tongue, he spat a mouthful of Lifeblood Essence onto the wheel. Instantly, it blazed with cyan light, shearing through the Blood Vines blocking his path as he drew closer and closer to the motionless, cross-legged Mu Feng.