Chapter 195: Desperate Struggle for Life

Indeed, the man staggering through the woods, struggling forward, was Rod.
Despite that terrifying lightning strike, he didn’t die immediately. At the critical moment, he used a space scroll to escape to a place a kilometer away, saving his life!
That space scroll was one he had purchased at the trading hall some time ago. He never expected it to actually save his life today—Rod was secretly grateful.
In fact, though that lightning strike was terrifying, its power was still less than one-tenth that of the God-Annihilating Thunder Tribulation from over a month ago. But first, Rod had been in battle, and then he was struck by Old Nash’s devastatingOverlord’s fist fist, causing severe damage to his internal organs. A large amount of dark combat energy flooded his body, and the combat energy and dark energy inside were fighting against that force, leaving him unable to defend himself against the lightning. Otherwise, Rod would have taken that strike head-on!
That’s why Rod couldn’t withstand the lightning. Instead, the dark energy in his body ran rampant, and the stray energy from the lightning invaded his body, nearly costing him his life. Thankfully, the space magic scroll worked—as expected, it was fast, instant, and required no medium. It was just a pity that those magic cores could only be used once per scroll.
Ah… The wounds on his body torn again, and the pain made Rod gasp, almost screaming in agony.
Several figures were approaching rapidly. Rod was shocked and thought, “Trouble,” then rushed forward. He cursed inwardly—these guys were really fast.
But he didn’t know which faction was after him this time—the Purple-Winged Thunder Eagles, or someone else? He had no idea; he only knew he had to leave this place as soon as possible.
The Ming Lake behind him grew farther and farther away, disappearing in the blink of an eye. He had left from Ming Lake earlier as a backup plan when he entered Dark Moon City to prepare for his actions.
The forest ahead was pitch black, blocking his view. It was deep night, and after the heavy rain, a thin layer of mist seemed to cover everything.
Blood kept flowing from the corners of his mouth. Rod’s face was deathly pale, like a blank sheet of paper. His body was covered in mud, but his wounds stood out sharply.

The injured Dark Dragon was no longer its original pitch black color; instead, it had turned an astonishing deep red, as if blood were flowing within it. Rod didn’t have time to ponder what was going on. All he wanted was to leave this place as soon as possible and find a safe spot to avoid those chasing him.

As for Furnace Sky, its situation in this battle wasn’t much better than his own. If he hadn’t recalled it at a critical moment, it would likely have been reduced to ashes under the lightning. Its injuries would probably require it to rest for some time again.

In this forest, which had previously gone unnoticed, a chase was now underway. Wave after wave of people flocked into the forest in search of clues about that man, including Sognar and Lilith. Everyone shared the same goal. Rod, on the other hand, ran desperately forward, hoping to escape his pursuers.

Shadows darted through the forest with incredible agility. Rod’s frown grew deeper as his injuries slowed him down. In the blink of an eye, the distance between him and his pursuers narrowed significantly. Rod could sense that the first group was now less than a hundred meters away—just a short while longer and they would catch up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A furious shout came from behind him. A figure rushed forward at incredible speed, closing the distance to within ten meters of Rod in no time, demonstrating its formidable strength.

“Damn it!” Rod cursed inwardly upon hearing that voice. It was familiar—he already knew who it was: the head of the Nash family, that annoying middle-aged man. A god-tier powerhouse, the leader of his clan! Now, he was locked in a deadly feud with him and the Nash family. It seemed they would never reconcile. That old Nash had almost died at his hands that night, and it was obvious what this guy wanted now!

Ignoring the middle-aged man’s words, Rod pushed forward with all his remaining strength, his battered body straining, without looking back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The middle-aged man shouted again when he saw Rod continuing to move forward. He wasn’t worried that his shouts would attract more people—the more, the better. He wanted to kill this despicable guy right there and then.

With another roar, his speed soared once more. In a flash, like a meteor, he appeared in front of Rod, blocking his path.

“Bastard!” Rod spat in hatred at the middle-aged man standing in his way.

Before his words faded, he saw a middle-aged man sneering as he swung a palm at him. Desperate, he realized that even at the peak of his strength, he could hardly match a martial artist at the later stage of the Saint level. Now, wounded and with strength far below that of the third level, he had no chance to resist.

The middle-aged man delivered the palm strike with a cold smirk, already aware of Rod’s condition—he knew Rod couldn’t possibly withstand it. He could even imagine the guy’s miserable death.

The palm strike blocked all of Rod’s escape routes, its force like that of a fierce tiger, lunging at Rod with terrifying speed.

“Get lost!” With no other choice, Rod used his Dark Dragon power to block the strike.

A dull collision sound came as Rod, unable to fight back, was flung dozens of meters away. He spat out more blood, looking utterly devastated. He tried several times to get up but failed, struggling desperately.

“Kid, are you Rod? My son died at your hands, right? I never thought the God-Annihilating Thunder Tribulation wouldn’t kill you. Were you the one behind all these events?” The man stepped in front of Rod, stepping on his chest and pressing down, causing Rod to groan. With a cold smirk, he asked, while observing this man who had become so legendary lately. He was surprised by how young he was, feeling a hint of regret—another genius had emerged, only to perish soon.

Then he slowly looked down at Rod, whose face was pale with anger and resentment. “Don’t worry. If the God-Annihilating Thunder Tribulation can’t kill you, I will. You won’t leave here alive today. You’ll accompany my family members as sacrifices—my son’s sacrifice! No one can save you!”

Seeming to think Rod was already trapped like fish on a chopping board, ready for his slaughter, he wasn’t in a hurry to kill this mysterious man right away.

Panting heavily, Rod’s vision blurred, the blood-red tint in his eyes fading as the demonic energy in his body retreated into his meridians, rapidly healing the injuries that would have killed an ordinary person.

Rod’s mind gradually cleared. Without the surge of anger, his thoughts became slightly calmer, but his consciousness grew increasingly blurred. The excruciating pain made him grit his teeth.

“Kill me then. Stop talking!” Rod growled through clenched teeth.

“Heh, you have some backbone. Want to die right away?” The man smiled coldly, his words icy enough to make every pore in Rod’s body stand on end.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you die so easily. If you die like this, my son won’t be at peace, the dozens of brave men of my Nash family won’t rest in peace, and the Purple-Winged Thunder Eagles won’t accept it either. Wouldn’t that be giving you an easy death?” The man sneered before continuing. The evil smile on his lips was utterly sinister.

Several sounds of something cutting through the air came from afar; clearly, someone was rushing toward them. The man seemed to notice as well, frowning slightly before seeming to decide to take Rod away from that place.

He released his foot and reached out to grab him, only to see Rod, who had been gasping like a dead dog moments before, suddenly leap up and punch him in the head. Frightened, the man quickly stepped back.

He slid several meters across the ground to avoid Rod’s punch, shouting, “You fool, seeking death!” In such a situation, he almost gave the other man a chance to counterattack, and he himself almost fell for the trick—how could he not be furious?

Without caring about the middle-aged man, Rod turned and kept running forward, buying time. His only plan now was to delay and hope for a miracle.

Anxiously, he realized the man behind him was chasing after him again and soon reached his side.

“Die!” he roared, then threw a punch without leaving any chance of escape. Rod, unable to fight back, instinctively tried to block with his Dark Dragon power, but was sent flying like a kite with a broken string. This time, he convulsed on the ground twice before being unable to stand up again. His internal organs seemed displaced, blood foam flowing from his mouth, his eyes rolling back—he was on the verge of death!

Everything around him was dark, the world spinning. For the first time, Rod was so close to death, feeling as if he had reached the threshold of death, feeling utterly powerless. His body was ice-cold, he couldn’t hear anything, only the ever-changing illusions before his eyes. It seemed the entire world no longer had anything to do with him.

In his confused consciousness, he seemed to see the man approaching with a cold smile, about to stomp on his head at lightning speed. If that foot landed on him, there would be no chance of survival.

“Is my life over?” he sighed despondently. This time, Rod was truly desperate. He simply closed his eyes, waiting for the footfall. Too weak to fight back, he could only lie there helplessly, waiting for death.