As Qin Feng stepped aside, he launched a fiery dragon spell. Gris didn't know what had happened, so he promptly executed a dodge—though this basic fire spell posed no real threat to him. At that moment, Lin Caivé's flying sword came in from a sharp angle, aiming directly for his throat. Gris managed to evade again, still unsteady in his footing, only for Qin Feng's attack to come once more. The combined pressure from both sides proved effective—soon, both gained the upper hand, and Gris found himself struggling to keep up. Lin Er finally caught his breath and managed to withstand the enemy's assault, thus saving his life. He looked down at the wreckage of the sword, his heart aching—this had been a gift he had fought for two years, finally securing it from his father. Just recently, he had achieved harmony between sword and self, envisioning using it to establish his reputation in the cultivation world. Yet, it was gone so quickly. Moreover, it was a foreigner who ruined it—should this news spread, Lin Family's second son would lose face. After a moment of concern, he noticed his body growing numb, with a sharp, scorching pain intensifying in his abdomen. Looking around, he saw that the several wounds on his stomach had turned pale, oozing a white, foul-smelling fluid—this startled him. The foreigner was poisoned from head to toe; his claws must have carried the toxin. I’ve been poisoned. Without hesitation, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a bottle of medicine, drinking it all down at once. He then retrieved several pills from his meditation belt and swallowed them as well. Yet, even after consuming these remedies, the pain in his abdomen persisted and the wounds showed no sign of healing. His heart sank—he had no doubt the foreigner’s poison was particularly potent. The well-tested Lin Family healing and detoxifying pills, which had always proven effective, offered no relief at all. Meanwhile, Qin Feng and Lin Caivé were engaged in fierce combat with Gris, leaving no time to attend to his condition. He continuously tapped his fingers on his chest and abdomen, sealing the meridians there, then strained with all his might to expel the toxins outward. "Wivi, take over," Qin the young lord shouted an unspoken command. Qin Dashi chuckled, "When it comes to dealing with someone like you—half-human, half-beast—I certainly don't need to adhere to the conventions of chivalry. After all, didn't you also use a fire projector when you fought Lin Laodai?" Aahhh! The mighty tiger roared, its four strong, thick legs driving hard into the ground as it charged toward Lin Caivé. He realized that tackling Qin Feng first was a poor choice—such a slick competitor! Instead, he decided to focus on the relatively weaker female targets. Once one of them was secured, the second would fall easily. Lin, the graceful woman, remained calm. With a mere thought, her flying sword returned and steadily descended in height. She gracefully leapt upward, landing both feet on the sword, lifting herself into the air. Gris launched a powerful tiger pounce, soaring several meters off the ground, yet still failed to touch a single strand of Lin’s hair. He then turned his attention to Qin Feng, who also rose into the air on his flying sword. "Hah! Foolish tiger," Qin Feng laughed, "I know you can transform into a leopard or a shark, but can you become a bird?" He suddenly tossed two hand grenades—deliberately delayed, so as to leave no time for Gris to react. Boom... boom... After the explosion, the once-brave, vibrant tiger was left with countless scorched patches, looking utterly disheveled. Gris was furious, yet completely helpless—regretting at every moment why he hadn't chosen avian genes back then, otherwise he wouldn't be in this predicament now. Of course, this thought only lasted a moment. He knew very well that his own physiology could successfully integrate mammalian genes, but if it came to avian genes, the outcome would be certain—dying in the incubation dish. By chance, he caught sight of Lin Er, desperately healing himself. "You're out of reach, so the fire will only fall on you." When Lin Er saw the enemy charging toward him, he was so startled he nearly lost his bladder; if the attack came one more time, he'd truly be done for. The guy leapt up without hesitation, his feet planted firmly on a flying sword that appeared quite ordinary. He was grateful to be such a thrifty person, never having thrown away his earlier swords—though this one was extremely plain, it still managed to glide smoothly with the owner. Gris didn't notice, and suddenly, Qin Feng dropped two more "eggs" from the sky. Boom… boom… The explosions drew the attention of many students, who quickly pulled out their phones to take photos. However, due to the distance, they could only capture a ball of fire—no one knew exactly what was happening on the ground. Qin, the young lord, watched Lin Er with deep concern and said, "Uncle Er, you seem to have sustained serious injuries. Why don't you leave now? What if something unexpected happens—how will I explain it to Lin Senior?" "Yes, only Grandpa can heal your wounds," added the beautiful Lin girl, equally concerned. The injury to himself, Lin Er clearly understood its seriousness, and nodded, saying, "Then I'll leave this matter to you. I'll be off now—see you later!" He didn't mention anything about compensation—not because he had become more generous, but because he was eager to escape. With no time to spare for other matters. When he vanished into the distance, riding on his flying sword, Qin Feng smiled and said, "Shasha, you can come out now—it's your turn to shine."