Vol. 1 - Chapter 57 - A Turning Point!
At the Last Moment, a figure suddenly leaped out from the side.
The person held an unusual iron umbrella, landing in front of Chen Er and Zhou Ba. With a flick, the umbrella opened.
The umbrella’s razor-sharp metal spokes spun rapidly, gleaming coldly under the moonlight.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The projectiles launched by the three Tang Sect assassins were deflected, scattering harmlessly to the ground.
The sight stunned the Tang Sect warriors.
“The Deadly Umbrella—He Wu?”
Zhou Ba instantly recognized the newcomer, and his face lit up with delight.
“Save the chatter! Run! Xu Xiaolin is right behind me! Damn it, just my luck!” The killer wielding the iron umbrella cursed under his breath, snapped the umbrella shut, and sprinted.
Chen Er and Zhou Ba exchanged a brief, stunned glance before quickly activating their qinggong techniques to follow He Wu.
If they didn’t flee now, they’d truly be corpses in no time.
The Tang Sect disciples were notorious for their prowess in battle, capable of defeating stronger opponents through cunning and skill.
And here, there were three second-grade Tang Sect warriors.
If they delayed any longer, they wouldn’t even know how they died.
Just as the trio made their escape, a shadowy figure appeared silently on the path ahead.
The man had a hunched back and walked quietly—it was none other than Xu Xiaolin, the leader of the Yuhu Hall.
Xu Xiaolin glanced briefly at the Tang Sect assassins but said nothing.
As he was about to pursue, he suddenly froze in place.
For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a familiar silhouette.
That brief pause was all it took for the three elite assassins of Fengyu Tower to disappear into the distance.
Xu Xiaolin quickly refocused, gathering internal energy into his legs, and pursued them with ghost-like speed.
The three Tang Sect warriors in black exchanged wary glances.
“Move! Don’t let Xu Xiaolin take advantage!”
“The Purple-Gold King was hit by my hidden weapon— it’s poisoned, they won’t get far!”
“After them!”
The three men launched into pursuit, their qinggong techniques allowing them to run just like dragonflies skimming across the water.
…
In the mountains behind Xiaofeng Village
Several lanterns hung on a bamboo house, illuminating the interior as they would under daylight.
By the second-floor window, Eunuch Wang stood as he admired the fiery chaos engulfing Feng Village with screams echoing endlessly in the night.
“Such a beautiful sight to behold!” Eunuch Wang’s sharp, high-pitched voice carried a hint of satisfaction.
Behind him, seated cross-legged at a small tea table, Fengyu Tower Master remained silent, gazing at his now-cold tea. His expression was as calm as the murky brown of the tea itself.
Eunuch Wang chuckled as he took in the destruction. “Wanjin Hall sent eight of their leaders—three first-grade, five second-grade. Fire Dragon King even brought his precious son along.”
“The Tang Sect also sent five elders and three direct disciples.”
“That’s seventeen experts of second grade or higher.”
“And over a hundred third-grade Wanjin Hall warriors.”
The eunuch’s pale, beardless face twisted into an intoxicated smile as the distant screams continued. It was as though the suffering of others brought him immense pleasure.
“A killer organization that ruled the martial world for over a decade—destroyed in a single night. Witnessing this is truly a rare and marvelous treat!”
The Tower Master lifted his cold tea and took a sip. His voice was calm as he said, “Eunuch Wang, why don’t you test the younger generation’s skills yourself?”
Eunuch Wang chuckled, turning to face the Pavilion Master. “Your Highness, His Majesty’s orders are for me to watch over you. Don’t even think of retreating now. We’ve come too far. Even if you regret it now, it’s already too late.”
His shrill tone carried a hint of schadenfreude.
The Tower Master said nothing. He gently set down his teacup, his gaze fixed on the swirling tea inside.
No one could tell what he was thinking.
…
Bang!
Qin Yi’s sword flew from her grasp as she slammed into a wall, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
The already crumbling house groaned under the impact, its structure on the verge of collapse.
Swoosh! Swoosh!
Xiao Lian’s hands danced through the air like a butterfly, sending Tang Sect hidden weapons flying toward a burly monk in the room.
But the leader of Qingyuan Hall didn’t even bother dodging.
The hidden weapons stopped an inch from his body, deflected by an invisible shield of energy, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Seeing this, Xiao Lian’s eyes filled with frustration.
She had recently advanced her internal energy to the foundational stage and her qinggong technique to mastery, finally qualifying as a third-grade warrior.
But against this monk, she couldn’t even penetrate his protective energy field.
The Qingyuan Hall leader hefted his staff, his earlier strike sending Qin Yi flying into a wall, coughing blood.
The gap between first-grade warriors and second-grade warriors was immense.
And Xiao Lian, with her third-grade skills, was no match at all.
The monk turned to Xiao Lian after incapacitating Qin Yi.
“A mere third grade?”
He sniffed the air, his face lighting up with joy.
“Not bad. A female assassin.”
“Fortune truly favors me.”
“Let me take a closer look at you.”
As he spoke, the monk advanced, his staff in hand.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
Several black orbs flew toward him, but he didn’t bother dodging.
The moment the orbs were about to hit, they exploded.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Black flames erupted in the air.
Seizing the moment, Qin Yi sprang up, grabbed Xiao Lian, and dashed toward the window. Like a cat, she smashed through it and disappeared, moving with breathtaking speed.
The Qingyuan Hall leader froze mid-step, his face darkening as he sniffed the air again.
“Soft Bone Powder hidden inside explosives? From the Tang Sect?”
“Where did they get such wicked things!”
At this time, the shaky village house could no longer support itself.
Boom!
The house buried the Qingyuan Hall leader beneath its rubble.
…
In a quiet courtyard, Huang San stood still, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.
The droplet slid down his nose, quivering at the tip but refusing to fall.
It itched unbearably, but Huang San didn’t dare move. His gaze was fixed on the two people in front of him—more specifically, the younger one.
Clad in white, with a tightly gripped steel ball in his hand, Master Huoyun also had sweat glistening on his brow.
To them, the world seemed to vanish, leaving only their opponent.
The shouts of battle, crackling flames, and agonized screams were distant noises that couldn’t disturb their focus.
Though the standoff had lasted only a few minutes, it felt like hours.
Beside Master Huoyun stood the Fire Dragon Hall Master, casually twirling an iron sphere in his hand, as though waiting for the duel to conclude.
Shriek!
A sharp whistle tore through the night, piercing the chaos.
Huang San suddenly sprang into action.
The handsome, steel-ball-wielding Master Huoyun moved as well.
Huang San leaped gracefully, as light as a feather, stepping on the courtyard wall in a single bound.
Thud!
Mid-air, his body shuddered, as though struck by something.
Ignoring the pain, he used his qinggong technique to vanish into the night.
At the courtyard gate, the Fire Dragon King stopped spinning his steel balls and said lightly, “You were too hasty.”
Master Huoyun bowed his head. “Yes, Father, I was impatient.”
His right hand, which had been tightly clutching two steel balls, now held only one.
No one saw when he threw the other.
"If he hadn't been solely focused on escaping, you'd already be dead by his blade," Fire Dragon King said in an even tone.
Hearing this evaluation from his father, Master Huoyun felt a chill in his heart.
"Go back, shut yourself away for three months, and keep training," Fire Dragon King instructed indifferently.
He began walking slowly in the direction where Huang San had fled.
Master Huoyun gave a bitter smile, shook his head, and turned to leave in the opposite direction.
Huang San was a peak second-grade martial artist, a formidable opponent.
Master Huoyun knew he still had a long way to go.
Huang San vaulted over the wall and dared not linger even for a moment.
He gritted his teeth as cold sweat drenched his forehead, his face pale.
His left shoulder was a bloody mess, the flesh torn apart. His left arm hung limp as if it were broken, swinging with every movement he made.
He ran swiftly toward a specific direction, his feet barely touching the ground.
It was fortunate, he thought, that the attack came from Fire Dragon King's son, whose skills with the steel ball were still unrefined.
Huang San felt a momentary sense of luck.
If it had been Fire Dragon King himself, the damage would not have been limited to his shoulder but would likely have cost him his head.
Clenching his teeth, Huang San's mind replayed past conversations with Steward Huang and Qin Yi's deductions.
A wry smile tugged at his lips. At last, he understood.
Everyone is betraying Fengyu Tower…
This thought included even the master of the Fengyu Tower.
As Huang San raced toward his destination, voices carried over from not far away.
"Zhou Ba, put me down. I've already been poisoned. Let me go back and kill a few more—can't let it be a total loss!" The gruff, hoarse voice of Chen Er was tinged with fatigue.
"Enough already. Poisoned by the Tang Sect, You think you can still fight? Can you even stand?" came a disdainful reply in a slightly unfamiliar voice.
Huang San strained to listen and picked up his pace, quickly approaching.
When Chen Er, Zhou Ba, and He Wu saw him, they instinctively prepared to attack.
Upon recognizing Huang San, they all paused, exclaiming in unison, "Huang San, what happened to your arm?"
Huang San, his face dripping with sweat, responded through gritted teeth, "It was the Fire Dragon King. He used me as a sharpening stone for his son."
The three exchanged glances and immediately quickened their pace.
"Huang San, keep your distance from us!"
"Fire Dragon King? Zhou Ba, run faster!"
"Terrible luck."
Huang San: "..."
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