Dual Cultivation System: My Cultivation Was Crippled, So I Rely on Intimacy to Level Up

Chapter 241: The Blood Fiend Maniac’s Feast

Zhou Kai stared at Wu Chao. The hulking body cultivator had sustained barely a scratch. A vicious twitch pulled at the corner of Zhou Kai’s eye. How the hell do we fight this? The urge to turn and run screamed in his mind.

“Junior Brother Zhou! Take your woman and get the hell out of here!”

Zhou Kai whipped his head around, meeting Gao Feihuang’s bloodshot gaze.

Gao Feihuang leaned heavily on his broken sword, his body trembling as he forced himself upright. Thick, dark blood poured from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, soaking his flamboyant red robes until they clung to him in a sickly, purple-black sheen. He looked like a corpse dredged from a slaughterhouse floor.

And yet, he was laughing. His lips stretched wide, tearing the half-clotted wounds on his face, twisting his normally handsome features into a sinister, unhinged grin.

“I’m afraid…” Gao Feihuang rasped. “The show is about to get a little too spectacular. I’d hate to catch you in the crossfire.”

The moment the words left his lips, the blood pouring from his veins stopped dead. It hung suspended in mid-air, gripped by an unseen force.

A heartbeat later, the crimson droplets came alive. They twisted and condensed, flattening into thousands of rice-sized, blood-red runes. Like a ravenous colony of flesh-eating ants, the runes swarmed over his skin, emitting a high-pitched shriek before drilling violently back into his facial orifices.

“Graaaagh!” Gao Feihuang threw his head back and roared, the sound tearing from his throat like grinding metal.

Within his gaping wounds, his flesh began to writhe. This wasn’t natural healing. It looked as though thousands of crimson threads were moving furiously beneath his skin, acting as brutal needles that forcibly stitched his torn muscles together, leaving behind ugly, raised scars that resembled squirming centipedes.

Crack. Snap. Zhou Kai gritted his teeth as sickening crunches echoed from Gao Feihuang’s body. Broken bones were being violently snapped back into place. A rampant, bloody energy surged through the man, aggressively burning through his blocked Meridians with brute force.

He had regained his mobility, but he looked like a badly glued porcelain doll—one heavy impact away from shattering into bloody dust.

Zhou Kai’s scalp prickled with dread. This technique… it was utterly demonic.

A Blood Art?

A deep frown etched across Wu Chao’s face. The massive body cultivator clenched his fists. His knuckles cracked like gunfire, and a suffocating pressure descended from him, turning the very air thick and heavy. As a pure body cultivator, his sensitivity to Vitality was absolute.

Wu Chao’s heart skipped a beat. What he sensed radiating from the red-robed man wasn’t Qi. It was blood. Every single drop of Gao Feihuang’s blood felt like it was screaming, burning, boiling alive!

“You court death!” Wu Chao bellowed, refusing to give the maniac another second to prepare.

The earth caved beneath Wu Chao’s boots with a deafening boom, a crater of spiderweb cracks erupting in his wake. He vanished. A split second later, a tyrannical fist tore through the air, screaming straight for Gao Feihuang’s face.

The sheer atmospheric pressure of the strike arrived first, scraping against Gao Feihuang’s cheeks like jagged blades and stealing the breath from his lungs.

Faced with this overwhelming, pure violence, Gao Feihuang didn’t even flinch. His twisted smile simply grew wider. Instead of dodging, he threw a punch of his own.

His strike was entirely different—like a viper lashing out from the shadows. It carried a bone-chilling coldness and the nauseating stench of an open grave, aiming squarely for Wu Chao’s vitals. A lurid, bloody light coiled around Gao Feihuang’s arm, condensing into a razor-sharp, crimson drill over his knuckles.

BOOM—!

The collision didn’t ring out like clashing steel. It was a dull, earth-shaking detonation, like the beating of a war drum made from a titan’s hide. The air instantly ruptured, blasting outward in a devastating shockwave that peeled the topsoil right off the battlefield.

Wu Chao staggered a half-step backward. The webbing between his thumb and forefinger tore, stinging with a blinding pain. Shock widened his eyes. How is this possible? No frail cultivator should possess the physical force to clash directly against a body cultivator!

Gao Feihuang came off much worse. His right sleeve detonated into confetti. His arm ruptured, flesh and skin peeling back to expose splintered bone. Yet, the blood that sprayed from the gruesome injury didn’t fall to the earth. It transformed into a crimson mist, which was instantly sucked right back into his torn muscles. The wound writhed like a nest of worms, knitting itself back together in the blink of an eye.

“Your Vitality…” Gao Feihuang slurred, sticking out a tongue to lick a streak of blood from the corner of his mouth. “…tastes exquisite.” His eyes locked onto Wu Chao with the ravenous hunger of a starving beast presented with a royal banquet.

Ice water flooded Wu Chao’s veins. During that brief clash, he hadn’t just felt the maniac’s bizarre physical strength. He had felt a fleeting, terrifying sensation of weakness.

It was as though the vast reservoir of Vitality in his arm had been forcefully siphoned, leaking a fraction of its power into his enemy.

“Cheap tricks!” Wu Chao roared, abandoning all restraint. A body cultivator’s path was one of pure, unadulterated dominance.

He unleashed a tempest. A torrent of golden fist-shadows blotted out the sky, every single strike packing enough kinetic force to shatter a mountain. The air detonated in a continuous chain reaction around him, carving out a crushing vacuum. He became an unstoppable, walking siege engine.

Gao Feihuang laughed—a broken, wheezing sound—and completely abandoned his defense.

He didn’t retreat a single inch. Instead, he lunged forward, trading injury for injury, blurring into a streak of bloody light that hurled itself directly into the meat-grinder of golden fists.

He fought like a rabid dog. His attacks held no form or martial grace; he slashed with claws, struck with palms, and jabbed with fingers, aggressively targeting Wu Chao’s throat, eyes, and joints. The golden fists battered him mercilessly. Where Wu Chao’s attacks landed, Gao Feihuang’s flesh was pulverized and his bones shattered.

But he didn’t even flinch. He fought on like a tireless, unfeeling puppet of meat and bone.

It was a horrific cycle. The more severe his injuries became, the more blinding the bloody aura radiating from him grew. His unnatural regeneration accelerated, and his killing intent spiked to psychotic levels.

CRACK!

Wu Chao seized a fractional opening, driving a brutal, unadorned haymaker directly into Gao Feihuang’s sternum. The cultivator’s chest caved in with a sickening crunch, and he was launched backward like a broken ragdoll.

Wu Chao planted his foot to press the assault—but his knee buckled. He staggered, barely catching his balance as a violent wave of vertigo crashed through his skull.

Panic seized him. The torrential river of Vitality that usually roared through his flesh felt… sluggish. His mighty heart actually skipped a beat.

He’s draining me. The realization hit him like a physical blow. Every time we touch, he’s stealing my Vitality!

Wu Chao snapped his head up. Mid-air, Gao Feihuang stabilized himself, staring down with eyes brimming with sheer, greedy mockery. With a chorus of gruesome popping sounds, Gao Feihuang’s crushed sternum began to pop back into place, inflating his chest to its original shape.

“Do you feel it?” Gao Feihuang whispered, a grotesque smile splitting his face. “This is why I absolutely adore body cultivators. You’re just walking batteries of thick, rich Vitality. Every ounce of your strength nourishes me. Every single time you hit me, you prolong my life!”

Before the echo of his voice faded, he vanished.

Reappearing as a bloody comet, he plummeted toward Wu Chao. He was faster now. The dense crimson aura clinging to him suddenly crystallized, violently tearing out from his shoulder blades to form a pair of horrific, bat-like wings made entirely of coagulated blood.

Fury and a creeping, primal terror warred within Wu Chao’s mind.

He finally understood the nightmare he was trapped in. This wasn’t a duel. It was a harvest. The lunatic didn’t care about defending himself because taking damage was the entire point! All Gao Feihuang needed was physical contact to feed.

“Get off me!” Wu Chao roared in panic, channeling his remaining power into a frantic barrage. He unleashed a shockwave of golden force, desperate to blast Gao Feihuang away and buy himself some distance.

But the blood cultivator clung to him like a parasite. Gao Feihuang rode the shockwaves, staying within point-blank range as bloody claws and golden fists traded blows at a blinding, suicidal pace.

With every passing second, Wu Chao’s dread deepened. He could literally feel his life draining away. Through every block, every parry, and even through the ambient bloody mist swirling around them, an invisible, magnetic force was ripping the life essence directly from his cells.

It started as a leak. Then a stream. Now, it was a ruptured dam.

Wu Chao’s fists turned sluggish. The mountain-shattering weight behind his blows evaporated. His vibrant, bronze-colored skin paled into a sickly, ashen gray. Before Zhou Kai’s eyes, the towering body cultivator’s muscles visibly began to shrivel and atrophy.

Gao Feihuang’s hysterical laughter echoed across the ruined battlefield. “Junior Brother Zhou! Watch closely! Watch a cultivator break a body cultivator in close combat!”

He threw his arms wide open, deliberately offering his chest to Wu Chao’s fading, desperate punch.

Squelch!

The golden fist punched cleanly through Gao Feihuang’s torso, bursting out of his back in a shower of gore.

Wu Chao froze, staring in disbelief. Then, an apocalyptic suction force erupted from the ruined cavity of Gao Feihuang’s chest!

This wasn’t a technique powered by Qi or guided by Divine Sense. It was an absolute, domineering law of gluttony aimed directly at Wu Chao’s Source Origin!

“You—!” Wu Chao’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. He tried to rip his arm back, but the muscles inside Gao Feihuang’s chest clamped down, locking his arm in place like it was encased in solid iron.

His remaining Vitality—his very life force—surged toward the breach. Like phantom red dragons, his essence ripped itself from his body, madly pouring into the blood cultivator.

Wu Chao stared down in abject horror as the flesh on his trapped arm rapidly liquefied and withered away. His thick black hair faded to ash, then to snow white. His skin sagged as deep wrinkles carved into his face. His eyes sank hollowly into their sockets, the light of his spirit extinguishing.

In a mere handful of breaths, the indomitable body cultivator, a man whose Vitality had burned like a solar furnace, was reduced to a decrepit, brittle husk of an old man.

“Gaaah!” Wu Chao unleashed a hollow, rattling scream that barely sounded human.

In a final act of desperation, he ignited the very last microscopic trace of his Essence Blood. The violent detonation of energy blasted from his shriveled frame, violently launching Gao Feihuang away.

Wu Chao collapsed to his knees, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He remained frozen in that position, perfectly still, his life flame flickering so faintly a breeze could snuff it out.

With ninety-nine percent of his Essence Blood devoured, not even an immortal descending from the heavens could save his foundation. Even if he somehow survived the day, he wouldn’t recover his strength in ten lifetimes of bitter cultivation.

A dozen yards away, Gao Feihuang wasn’t faring much better.

The sheer volume of raw, incompatible Vitality he had gorged upon couldn’t heal his shattered body smoothly. Instead, it acted like a highly volatile poison rampaging through his veins. Beneath the pale skin of his twisted, handsome face, a network of pitch-black, rotting blood vessels pulsed angrily. He looked like a bloated corpse on the verge of violently bursting.

He had won. But as he stood there bleeding out, he looked infinitely more like a dead man than the opponent he had just destroyed.