Urban: Super God-Ring System

C24 – Ghostfreak

Wen Huaimu’s voice took on an even more bizarre tone, particularly with the severed hand still gripping a broken machete above his head, adding a layer of horror to the scene.

“Brother, controlling objects with psychic force is exhausting,” the elfin complained first.

A mysterious smile played across Wen Huaimu’s face. With a casual flick of his wrist, the machete hovering overhead was swept aside and clattered onto the carpet below. The severed hand twitched twice, adding a macabre touch to the already eerie atmosphere.

The gamblers collectively swallowed hard, realizing that Wen Huaimu was the true source of terror, and they were frozen in place, too afraid to move.

Miss Zhuang, on the other hand, had her eyes sparkle with excitement, her heart pounding with anticipation.

“Here’s his hand, as promised,” Wen Huaimu said with a playful wink to Miss Zhuang.

“My affection for you wasn’t misplaced,” Miss Zhuang thought, her anger subsiding. As a scion of a prominent family, she was no stranger to death and was unfazed by Mr. Zhen’s cries of agony.

“But it seems we have another with malicious intent. I’ve heard he’s an assassin from the Assassin Leaderboard, quite formidable indeed,” Wen Huaimu said as he confidently drew Miss Zhuang into his arms.

Miss Zhuang simply rolled her eyes and, without any resistance, snuggled contentedly against Wen Huaimu’s chest.

“I never imagined I’d mistake a supreme master for just another pretty face,” Ghostfreak said with a hint of self-deprecation, yet his gaze upon Wen Huaimu was not one of fear but rather brimming with a desire to battle.

“Brother, this old guy wants to make a move on you—take him out,” the elfin in the ring urged, even before Wen Huaimu had noticed.

With an almost imperceptible quirk of his eyebrow, Wen Huaimu looked at Ghostfreak with amusement. “Planning a sneak attack on me?”

Surprise flickered across Ghostfreak’s face, his eyes growing colder, his body tensing as if ready to spring into action.

Wen Huaimu’s lips curled into a scornful smile. “I have no desire to kill you, but take my advice: don’t harbor any thoughts against me. Otherwise, the moment you come near, I can split you into two lifeless halves.”

“Death doesn’t frighten me; it’s the thrill of combat I crave,” Ghostfreak said, his eyes alight with excitement, his breath quickening. “You’re strong, inscrutable, but I’m itching for a fight!”

Wen Huaimu kept his face impassive, though inside he was swearing up a storm.

“Brother, take him down. I’ll lend you my magic,” the elfin chimed in, her cheeks flushing with approval of Ghostfreak’s sentiment.

“Diaochan, are you really an elf? You’re nothing like the ones in the stories!” Wen Huaimu couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer.

The elfin’s hand, previously in motion, halted abruptly. She looked puzzled as she explained, “Don’t you know? I carry the bloodlines of three different elves. The most dominant is that of the Berserk Elves; battle is in my blood.”

“Berserk Elf!” Wen Huaimu had never heard of such an elf before!

“Come on, show me if you’ve truly broken through to the Innate Realm!” Ghostfreak exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

“Innate Realm!”

Ghostfreak’s declaration sent a ripple of shock through the onlookers. Miss Zhuang, Zhuang Xian, Zhuang Junjie, and Leng Hao all wore expressions of utter astonishment.

The Innate Realm was astonishing indeed. It seemed that no such master had graced the world in centuries.

Could Wen Huaimu truly be an Innate Master?

But then, the floating chopper that couldn’t be chopped down – if he hadn’t reached the Innate Realm with the ability to wield his internal energy freely, how could he have controlled it?

Yet, Wen Huaimu was so young. Even centuries ago, it was said that only those who had endured decades of rigorous cultivation could achieve the Innate Realm. And now, with the scarcity of the Spirit Energy of Heaven and Earth and the incomplete cultivation techniques of modern society, the Innate Realm had become the stuff of legends.

“Could it be true?” Miss Zhuang gazed at Wen Huaimu with a dreamy look, finding his youthful yet determined face unexpectedly captivating.

“Innate?” Hearing Ghostfreak’s challenge and seeing the crowd’s reaction, Wen Huaimu’s face showed a hint of scorn. “Innate is trivial. If you’re eager for a battle, then bring it on. I’ll make sure you die without ever finding out if I’m of the Innate Realm or not.” With that, he gently pushed Miss Zhuang to the side, ensuring she wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

“Then brace yourself for my attack,” Ghostfreak declared, raising his hands as the two ghost nails gleamed ominously in the distance.

“Then it’s your time to die,” Wen Huaimu retorted, visibly irritated. He had never encountered someone so obstinate. Lifting his hands, he recited the incantation for the wind blade spell. With the elfin’s full support, Wen Huaimu’s execution of the wind blade was swifter than ever. Six pale green wind blades spun rapidly in his grasp.

Ghostfreak, observing the nimble wind blades dancing on Wen Huaimu’s palms, squinted thoughtfully. Was this a manifestation of innate internal energy? He knew that upon reaching the Innate realm, a person’s internal energy could not only attack but also display color. Perhaps this was related to the individual’s bodily attributes.

“We don’t have to battle to the death. If you can handle my six wind blades, I’ll spare you today,” Wen Huaimu boasted, his arrogance returning. He had no other option; his magic reserves were running low. Deploying the six wind blades had depleted half of his magic in a single stroke. He needed to conserve what was left for any unforeseen circumstances.

“Fine,” Ghostfreak responded, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone, as if he had never been there at all, leaving the entire hall in stunned silence.

Yet Wen Huaimu only smirked with contempt.

The elfin’s potent psychic force easily penetrated the secret technique Ghostfreak used to cloak himself. Just moments after Ghostfreak vanished, Wen Huaimu, guided by the elfin, unleashed a swiftly spinning wind blade.

A faint clang echoed through the air as a ghost nail clattered to the floor. Ghostfreak’s form flickered into view before disappearing once more, true to his spectral namesake.

Inside, however, Ghostfreak was reeling with shock.

Wen Huaimu could actually see him. His prized, supremely powerful stealth technique appeared utterly ineffective.

Unconcerned with Ghostfreak’s repeated attempts at hiding, Wen Huaimu allowed himself a slight smile. He launched another wind blade, which whirred into a white wall.

This time, Ghostfreak did not reappear, sending a ripple of alarm through the onlookers. Had Wen Huaimu lost sight of him? But then, a garment began to drift down from above, gently floating to the ground.

Everyone was in disbelief. Wen Huaimu’s mastery of the Innate realm seemed all but confirmed. Ghostfreak, the fifth-ranked assassin on the Assassin Leaderboard, was toyed with as if he were merely a child. Only someone of the Innate realm could possess such formidable power!

“Damn it, the Life-Reaping Three Series!”

Enraged from the shadows, Ghostfreak’s two attempted sneak attacks had failed, leaving him overpowered. Abandoning the element of surprise, he resolved to confront his opponent directly.

Three streaks of red light shot forth in a straight line—a concealed weapon technique of horrifying proficiency. An ordinary person might parry the first strike, but the second would surely find its mark. And even the most nimble would likely succumb to the third.

In the wake of Ghostfreak’s assault, everyone in the hall contemplated their own response, their complexions turning ashen. They understood that, without the ability to dodge with even greater speed, there was no defense.

Wen Huaimu’s brow quirked, then his expression softened into a smile. He extended his hand, and a wind blade began to spin rapidly on his palm, swiftly coalescing into a wind element. The element’s verdant hue was notably intense.

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