A line of ox carriages lumbered steadily into the darkness, each dull thud of the oxen’s hooves striking the earth like muted rainfall. At the very front, Lu Sheng rode a horse, its breath misting faintly in the cold night air.
Wind howled across the sky, sharp and biting. Several sect members within the procession pulled their robes tighter, shivering as scattered coughs broke the stillness. Since departing from the Crimson Whale, the caravan had pressed onward toward Windless Valley, guarded by more than fifty men.
After crossing a barren stretch of sand, the group ascended into a dense forest winding along the mountainside. Traveling in such large numbers had its advantage—no beasts dared approach. Riding at the fore, Lu Sheng wore a silk robe embroidered with black and red floral patterns. His every movement carried weight and confidence, and he increasingly embodied the presence of a sect master of great renown.
Within the thick forest, under his orders, disciples raised their lit torches high, the glow scattered throughout the company to ward off any lurking creatures. Lu Sheng remained alert alongside the three elders, their gazes sweeping the shadows for ghosts or wandering Anomalies.
About an hour passed before the faint glow of distant torches emerged ahead.
Lu Sheng signaled the group to halt, then spurred his horse forward alone. He broke from the tree line and descended onto an open sandy rise, where he spotted Li Shunxi’s party waiting across the way.
In the deep darkness, Li Shunxi quickly recognized the figure atop the horse. Stepping forward, he clasped his fists in greeting.
“Brother Lu!”
Lu Sheng returned the gesture. “Brother Li, have you brought what I need?”
Li Shunxi smiled. At his side, Guan Nian stepped forward, lifting a metal box high for him to see.
Guan Nian, Zhong Yunxiu, and Zhang Wuya all watched closely, silently measuring the man before them—the one who commanded the mightiest sect in all the Northern Lands, the Crimson Whale Sect’s Sect Master, Lu Sheng.
What came into view was a man with handsome, well-defined features and a fair, refined complexion. A square hat inlaid with red jade rested perfectly atop his head. Draped in a long-sleeved silk robe, Sect Master Lu Sheng looked less like a fearsome leader of a great sect and more like an elegant young heir of a wealthy family. Though broad-shouldered and fit, he carried himself with the composed grace of a cultured gentleman.
Lu Sheng, too, studied Li Shunxi’s group. A few among them carried an aura he immediately recognized—the faintly toxic presence belonging to those in the Bind realm. These were no ordinary mortals; they were clearly experts from the faction Li Shunxi now served.
“The ox carriages carrying the grain are behind us. Consider the carriages themselves a gift. Have you brought enough men?” Lu Sheng called out.
“Enough, enough!” Guan Nian answered as he strode forward, springing lightly onto a low tree branch. From his vantage point, his eyes brightened at the sight of more than ten ox carriages rolling in. With the valley suffering from a grain shortage, exchanging a few inconsequential martial arts manuals for such a haul felt like a bargain.
Worried that Lu Sheng might retract his generosity, he hastily urged the elder Zhang Wuya to send men ahead to claim the carriages.
Lu Sheng paid it no mind. He simply returned to his team, ordering his own subordinates to withdraw as those from the other side stepped in to take over.
While both parties’ men busied themselves with the exchange, Lu Sheng and the leaders of Li Shunxi’s faction strolled deeper into the woods to discuss other matters.
“We’re grateful that Sect Master has been so supportive. Since you have dealt with us faithfully, we are willing to offer another martial art as payment—also one of Intent Proficiency,” Zhang Wuya said suddenly, stepping out from behind Li Shunxi as they walked. Lu Sheng’s eyes lit up. “Oh? Are you serious?”
Zhang Wuya met his gaze steadily, ignoring the subtle tugs from Guan Nian and Zhong Yunxiu behind him.
“I’m just a plain old fool, but I still have several Intent Proficiency martial arts in my collection. Consider them a personal gift from me. However, I do have a question for Sect Master Lu. Will Sect Master enlighten me?”
“A question? As long as it doesn’t involve certain sensitive matters, I won’t hide anything,” Lu Sheng replied with a smile.
Zhang Wuya returned the smile and opened his mouth to continue—
But before he could speak, low, uneasy growls echoed from the oxen deeper in the woods. Disciples hurried to steady them, yet the beasts only grew more agitated, their bellows swelling in intensity.
“What’s going on?!” Lu Sheng snapped, frowning toward the sound.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!
Without warning, three blazing red orbs burst open above the forest canopy like violent fireworks, their crimson glow flooding the night and illuminating every face.
Swish!
In the next heartbeat, a man standing behind Guan Nian drew his sword and slashed at the comrade beside him. The blade flashed. A head thudded onto the forest floor.
“Zhang Peng, you!!?” Guan Nian roared, but before he could react, the traitor leapt skyward with wild, unhinged laughter, vaulting more than ten meters away into the darkness.
Furious, Guan Nian stepped forward to give chase—only to freeze as a familiar silhouette emerged from between the trees.
“It’s been a long time, Guan Nian. This time, you’re not getting away…” A sultry voice drifted out as a beautiful woman in a revealing black skirt sauntered into view, idly twirling a lock of her long dark hair. Her gaze swept across the Martial League entourage with predatory amusement.
“Bai Jing…!” Guan Nian’s face tightened.
“Zhong Yunxiu, Guan Nian… not bad, not bad. Seems we’re blessed with luck tonight—two big rats from the Martial League delivered right to us.”
A pale-faced scholar stepped into the torchlight from the opposite direction. He carried a pink paper fan adorned with the painting of a beauty among flowers, and a thick cosmetic powder covered his face, releasing an overpowering fragrance with every step.
“Quan Huan!” Guan Nian spat, his expression turning as dark as the night around them.
If Bai Jing had come alone, Guan Nian and Zhong Yunxiu might still have had a chance—perhaps a coordinated sneak attack, perhaps a narrow victory. But now Quan Huan had stepped into the picture. He was no Three-Vein novice like Bai Jing. His name had circulated among the Noble Families for over twenty years, known for both his formidable skill and his cunning. Again and again, he had slipped free even when surrounded by experts far stronger than himself.
“This is troublesome…” Guan Nian murmured, his body coiling like a tense spring. He exchanged a wordless glance with Zhong Yunxiu—both ready to bolt at the slightest opening. If they could escape, they could draw Bai Jing and Quan Huan away, giving mortals like the elderly Zhang Wuya at least a sliver of hope.
But before they could act, two more figures stepped out from the remaining directions.
Guan Nian and Zhong Yunxiu froze, despair crushing down on them like a tidal wave. All around, several members of their company stood slack-jawed, hopelessness etched across their faces.
They recognized the newcomers immediately. After so many transactions with Ashoka Manor, these faces were unmistakable. Ashoka’s Emissaries—each one, just like Xiao Hongye, a master who ruled over their own region. And now four of them were here.
From atop his horse, Lu Sheng observed Li Shunxi’s group from afar, his expression darkening.
“Brother Li, it seems the news was leaked from your side.”
Li Shunxi’s complexion drained to a ghostly white as he realized the magnitude of their predicament. He forced out a bitter smile.
“Brother Lu…” He could say no more.
Lu Sheng swept his gaze across the four corners of the clearing, studying Bai Jing and the others with calm detachment. His eyes grew cold, emotionless.
“Our transaction cannot be divulged. It appears these four cannot be allowed to leave alive.”
“???”
All four Emissaries stared blankly at him, momentarily stunned. The one nearest—an imposing brute with skin gleaming like hammered copper—glowered at Lu Sheng as if the man had lost his mind.
“Lad, are you…”
His words trailed off as his gaze raked over Lu Sheng. His expression contorted, eyes bulging like saucers, mouth forming a shocked “O”.
“You… you you you you…!?”
“Don’t blame me. If you must blame someone, blame yourselves for knowing too much!”
Lu Sheng drew the twin sabers from his back in one smooth motion. His muscles bulged like inflating bellows, distorting and swelling beneath his skin. In the span of a few breaths, the man who had stood under two meters grew into a towering, near three-meter titan.
What made him truly terrifying were the transparent streams of scorching Qi spiraling around him. Even though the bronze-skinned muscular hunk stood more than ten meters away, he felt his own skin sting under the heat.
“Ultimate Crimson Nine Furies… Divine Might!!!”
BOOM!!!
“Szzzz!”
Lu Sheng’s horse let out a wretched neigh as its legs snapped all at once, the beast collapsing under the sudden force. Lu Sheng launched himself off its falling back, his enormous form arcing through the air like a plunging meteor.
He descended directly toward the muscular hunk.
The hunk’s pupils contracted. He threw both arms upward to block, one foot bracing hard against the ground. A black membrane rippled across his skin, encasing him.
“AHH!!” With a crazed roar, a red gleam flashed in his eyes as white serpentine scales erupted across his body—his secret art unleashed.
KA-BOOM!!!
Lu Sheng’s twin sabers slammed against the hunk’s raised arms like two colossal boulders colliding. The clash held for only a heartbeat before a sharp crack resounded through the woods.
His arms shattered.
Before he could even gasp, both blades carved straight into his chest.
A wet, sickening sound followed as the hunk was split cleanly from the top of his skull down to his waist.
“You…!!” he choked, collapsing backward, one final word escaping his lips.
Splat!
Lu Sheng brought his foot down on the man’s head, crushing it into pulp. The searing inner Qi coating his saber blades ignited what remained of the body, reducing it swiftly to a mound of black ash.
Raising his twin sabers once more, Lu Sheng turned his blazing gaze toward Bai Jing and the other two.
“Three left.” The corner of Lu Sheng’s lips curled into a savage grin.
A suffocating silence blanketed the forest.
“Gr–Great Demon!!!” Cold sweat gathered on the tip of Guan Nian’s nose. His entire body shuddered as he stared at Lu Sheng’s transformed form.
No matter how he looked at the towering, nearly three-meter-tall figure with its grayish-black flesh, nothing about it resembled a human being. It looked instead like one of Ashoka Manor’s shapeshifting Demons.
Demons of that level could tear apart an Emissary in a single blow—black membranes, defenses, cultivation—none of it mattered.
Such power…
If this truly was a Great Demon, then none of them would leave this forest alive.
“No… it’s not a Great Demon…” Zhang Wuya, in stark contrast, was trembling with excitement rather than fear. His eyes burned with feverish worship as he stared at Lu Sheng.
“Hard body skill… this is hard body skill!!! Multiple full-mastery skills layered together, forming the strongest outer force imaginable! During our gatherings, we theorized that the ultimate form of hard body arts might look like this! Incredible! Beyond belief! For such a being to truly exist—unthinkable!!” He babbled breathlessly, his gaze devouring every inhuman contour on Lu Sheng’s body.
“Are you saying this man is using martial arts?! That he cleaved an Emissary to death with martial arts??!” Zhong Yunxiu demanded, disbelief tightening his voice.
“This man is a prodigy! An unparalleled, unprecedented, unmatched genius!! Someone capable of pushing so many hard body skills to full mastery—on earth, no less?! HAHAHAHA!! There is hope for martial arts! There is hope for the way of martial arts!!” Zhang Wuya nearly danced with joy, unable to contain his exhilaration.
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