Account for it?
Shen Che seemed to have heard a joke.
"Who does the Demon Suppression Division need to account to when handling a case?"
He stepped forward, and the wooden floorboards throughout Heavenly Profound Pavilion trembled with the impact.
"As for the truth, it's simple."
"Take you down, drag you back to the Imperial Prison of the Demon Suppression Division, and put you through the seventy-two great tortures. Even if you're a lump of iron, I'll melt you down and make you spit out every word your ancestors said for eighteen generations."
"Make your move, Feng Changkong."
His words carried not a trace of anger, yet they sent a greater chill through the heart than the most vicious curse.
The guests in the hall fell silent as cicadas in winter, hardly daring to breathe.
This was no investigation. This was plainly an arrest—and one that would not even give its target a chance to explain.
"He's mad. This young man is absolutely mad!"
"Pavilion Master Feng is a renowned Primordial Qi Realm expert. Ten years ago, he was already among the top five in Qingfeng City. What gives him the right?"
"Hard to say... Look at Chief Steward Sun. At the peak of the True Meridian Realm, yet he couldn't last a single move against him. This man's depths are unfathomable."
The murmurs were kept extremely low, everyone terrified of bringing disaster upon themselves.
At last, Feng Changkong could no longer maintain that refined mask.
The air of a scholar vanished from him without a trace, replaced by a terrifying presence as deep as an abyss and vast as the sea.
"What a Demon Suppression Division. What an arrogant little brat!"
"I founded Heavenly Profound Pavilion over a dozen years ago, and this is the first time anyone has dared bully their way to my door like this!"
"Since you insist on courting death, I'll sever one of your arms today as a lesson to the Demon Suppression Division!"
Before his words had faded, the longsword at his waist sprang from its sheath with a clang.
A chilling sword light, wrapped in Primordial Qi dense enough to seem tangible, shot toward Shen Che's shoulder like a silver bolt of lightning.
This sword strike was swift, precise, and ruthless.
The temperature throughout the hall plunged several degrees beneath that sword light.
When a Primordial Qi Realm expert made a move, it was earthshaking.
Yet Shen Che's actions made everyone's hearts leap into their throats.
He neither dodged nor evaded. He did not even draw his saber.
He merely raised his right arm, and under the infusion of his surging True Qi, his broad sleeve stiffened straight as iron.
He met that sword light with his sleeve.
Clang!
A deafening crash of metal against metal exploded through the hall.
It did not sound like flesh colliding at all. Instead, it was as though two divine weapons had smashed fiercely together.
Under the crowd's horrified gazes, the brilliant layer of Primordial Qi around Feng Changkong's sword shattered inch by inch like glass struck by a sledgehammer.
An irresistible force surged back along the blade.
Feng Changkong grunted, unable to stop himself from staggering back three steps. Each step stamped a deep footprint into the hard bluestone floor.
The web between the thumb and forefinger of his sword hand had split open, blood streaming down it.
He forcibly steadied himself, and for the first time, his handsome face was filled with disbelief.
A deathly silence fell over the hall.
Everyone seemed to have been struck by an immobilizing spell. Their mouths hung open, and they had forgotten even to breathe.
With... with his sleeve?
He had taken a strike from a Primordial Qi Realm expert head-on?
Not only had he taken it, he had even blasted the man backward?
Was this still a human being? What the hell was this performance?
"A Primordial Qi Realm expert only has this much strength?"
Shen Che lowered his arm. His sleeve was completely undamaged. He shook his hand as though dusting off dirt that did not exist.
"Bring out the ability you keep at the bottom of the chest."
"Otherwise, you won't get a chance to strike a second sword."
Contempt.
Blatant, undisguised contempt.
"Brat! You're courting death!"
Feng Changkong was utterly enraged.
The Demon Suppression Division's status and his pavilion's reputation were both flung beyond the nine heavens.
Only one thought remained in his heart.
Kill this brat who did not know the immensity of heaven and earth!
Hummm—!
An aura more than ten times stronger than before erupted explosively from Feng Changkong's body.
"Ice God Sword, Ice Sky Snow Land!"
With a low roar, the temperature within the entire three-story pavilion plummeted off a cliff once more.
The moisture in the air condensed into frost, rapidly crawling across the walls and beams.
Hexagonal snowflakes appeared from nowhere, whirling and drifting through the pavilion.
A sharp, cruel intent that sought to freeze and slash everything into pieces shrouded the entire space.
Minor Sword Intent!
A higher realm beyond the embryonic forms of Fist Intent and Saber Intent.
This was true "Intent," not some ethereal shadow.
"I began practicing the sword at four years old. Only after forty years did I enter this realm!"
Feng Changkong's voice was like a cold wind blowing from the Nine Netherworlds.
"Once this sword of mine is unleashed, it leaves only death or injury. To die beneath my Sword Intent is the greatest honor of your life!"
The longsword in his hand swept out.
It was no longer a streak of sword light, but a roaring, rushing frozen river—a waterfall of death formed from pure Sword Intent and Primordial Qi, crashing down upon Shen Che's head.
Facing this strike, enough to plunge any True Meridian Realm martial artist into despair, Shen Che felt battle intent blaze fiercely within his chest.
"Good!"
Rather than retreating, he advanced, stomping his right foot forward.
Crack!
The bluestone floor beneath him, along with its foundation, cracked and sank under that stomp.
Behind him, the air twisted, and the phantom of a massive, majestic Golden Arhat flashed into being and vanished.
The colossal physical strength of a hundred thousand jin, the sixth layer of Dragon Elephant True Qi, and perfected body-tempering arts.
All his power converged into one point at this instant.
"Vajra Zen Fist, Zen Spear!"
Shen Che drove out a punch.
There were no unnecessary flourishes, only an unstoppable fierceness and tyranny.
A faint metallic sheen spread across his fist, as if it were an ultimate treasure cast from gold. It crashed straight into that icy river waterfall.
Fist and sword met in midair.
The first crisp crack came as the invincible Minor Sword Intent shattered like a fragile eggshell before Shen Che's fist.
The second dull boom came as the heavy, condensed protective Primordial Qi was blasted into nothingness by the berserk fist force.
The third was a mournful cry: Clang!
Feng Changkong's divine weapon, which he had always taken such pride in, snapped in two the instant it touched Shen Che's fist.
The force of the punch had yet to run dry!
At the instant Feng Changkong's mind was violently shaken by the shattering of his Sword Intent, that golden fist, carrying the lingering force to pierce through all things, smashed heavily into his left shoulder.
Squelch!
The sound of flesh tearing was crystal clear.
A spray of blood mist burst through the air.
Feng Changkong was like a man struck by a stampeding giant elephant. His body flew backward like a kite with its string cut, slamming viciously into a wall more than ten meters away. Only after smashing a huge dent into the solid wall did he slide limply to the ground.
At his left shoulder was a fist-sized bloody hole that pierced straight through from front to back. Blood gushed from it, a horrifying sight.
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