The training ground had become a battlefield of screams and clashing steel.
Feng's mind went white with rage and grief as he stared at the lifeless bodies of his son and daughter in his arms. The pain in his heart was sharper than any blade.
But he did not stay on his knees.
He gently laid Shihao and Suki down, then rose with the Adamantite dagger already in his hand. His eyes burned with a cold, terrifying fury no one had ever seen from the calm farmer.
He attacked.
Stealth Specialist wrapped around him like a shroud. He became a ghost among the chaos, vanishing and reappearing in the blink of an eye. The dagger flashed like black lightning.
The battle turned instantaneous and brutal.
Feng moved with everything he had. He slashed at the heroes' joints, throats, and eyes, using Appraisal to find every weakness in their blessed armor and movements. The heroes were no longer the same as before — they had grown far stronger, their SSS- and SS-rank power radiating like divine suns. Every clash sent shockwaves across the ground.
A holy sword strike from the golden-haired leader caught Feng across the stomach. The blade tore deep, slicing through muscle and organs. Blood poured out instantly. Feng staggered and dropped to one knee, clutching the gaping wound as pain exploded through his body.
But he did not stop.
He activated Stealth Specialist again, disappearing completely. In the next heartbeat he reappeared behind the enemy healer — the SS-rank woman who had been keeping the heroes alive with her powerful restoration magic.
The Adamantite dagger sliced clean through her neck in one merciless stroke. Her head tumbled away before her body even realized it was dead.
Feng stood over the falling corpse, blood dripping from his stomach and the dagger.
"Now your healer is dead," he said, voice low and ice-cold. "Let's see who will heal you now."
The four heroes froze for a split second, then their faces twisted with pure, unbridled rage.
"You bastard—!!"
They attacked with everything they had — holy light exploding, swords swinging in deadly arcs, divine power crashing down like meteors. Feng fought back with desperate ferocity, using every ounce of his skill and the dagger's legendary sharpness. He dodged, countered, and struck whenever an opening appeared.
The battle raged for a full hour.
Steel rang against steel. Blood sprayed across the stage. The adventurers and guild staff were locked in their own fierce fight against the disguised soldiers, but the main clash remained centered on Feng and the four heroes. The ground was torn apart, the air thick with holy light and the smell of blood.
Feng was hurt badly — the wound in his stomach still bleeding heavily — but he refused to fall. He kept moving, kept fighting, his calm mask completely shattered into something raw and terrifying.
The four heroes, now without their healer, grew more and more furious with every passing minute.
The fight was still going.