Arhat

In the Yun Clan's rear courtyard, within the family ancestral hall's grounds, the night was eerily still.

Yun Long sat alone on a cold stone bench, his fingertips lightly resting against a warm teacup.

The tea in the cup had long since been drained, yet he had not noticed at all.

His senses had already spread out like an invisible giant net, blanketing the entire Yun Clan residence as he meticulously perceived every fluctuation of energy outside, every clash of weapons.

Those so-called prestigious clans were no different from bloodthirsty hyenas in his eyes at this moment.

Their Qi Refining Stage cultivators truly seemed to regard the lives of their Xiantian martial artists as mere grass.

Fresh lives vanished one after another beneath Yun Hu's sword, beneath the crushing blows of Li Pinghu and Shi Tie.

Yet the leaders of those clans did not seem to have so much as furrowed their brows.

A faint, icy smile curled at the corner of Yun Long's lips.

Of course.

Including servants, the Yun Clan had no more than twenty-odd people in total.

Shi Tie and his son had shared hardships with them and journeyed with them all the way here.

Every clansman was bound to him by Blood Connection, and each was incomparably precious.

But for those clans with histories spanning centuries or even millennia, with deep foundations, people were what they lacked least.

What they truly lacked were Qi Refining Stage cultivators who could step across the threshold of cultivation and hope to glimpse the great path to immortality.

Thus, no matter how many Xiantian martial artists' lives had to be thrown in, so long as they could achieve their goal, they would not hesitate.

As more and more martial artists lurked outside, Yun Long decisively summoned his wife Li Lingyue, his younger sister Yun He, and his sole disciple Shi Chen into the ancestral hall courtyard.

He had already put away the Yun Clan genealogy properly.

That [Spirit Gathering Card], capable of gathering spiritual energy, had also temporarily ceased functioning.

At that moment, beneath the ancient eaves of the ancestral hall behind him, an enormous Golden Bell phantom glimmered faintly, tightly protecting the entire ancestral hall along with Yun Ji, who knelt upon a prayer mat within.

The golden bell was not physical, but formed from his incomparably pure Martial Dao Vajra Primordial Qi.

[Golden Bell Shield].

A supreme protective art that united offense and defense.

Beneath the golden bell's cover, Li Lingyue, Yun He, and Shi Chen sat cross-legged, focused on their cultivation.

There was not the slightest trace of panic on their faces, only absolute trust in Yun Long.

Yun Ji alone was the exception.

Yun Long's gaze fell upon his father, still kneeling motionlessly before the ancestral tablets, his eyes complex.

He had seen his father's earlier behavior, as though possessed, and had been anxious at heart.

Yet he had never expected that at this critical juncture, when the clan's survival hung in the balance, his father would fall into such a profound state of enlightenment.

Whether this was fortune or disaster, even he could not judge for the moment.

He only knew that if his father awoke now and learned that he had missed this battle to protect the clan—had watched his clansmen fight bloodily for their lives while he himself sat here "quietly comprehending"—

That regret, that guilt, would likely torment him for the rest of his life.

Especially if... if someone were to be injured or killed because of it.

Yun Long did not dare think any further.

Yun Long slowly took another sip of tea that had long gone cold.

His fingertips lightly tapped the rim of the rough clay cup, producing a steady, rhythmic sound that formed an eerie harmony with the faint clashes of weapons drifting in from beyond the courtyard.

He suddenly sighed. His voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached every corner of the ancestral hall courtyard.

"Ah, you've been here so long already. Why keep hiding?"

"May I ask which clan you fellow cultivators belong to?"

The night wind swept past, rustling the leaves of the old locust tree in the courtyard. Other than that, there was no response.

Yun Long's calm gaze swept across several dark corners of the courtyard walls, a barely discernible smile playing on his lips.

He had held back until now because he feared disrupting Yun Hu, who was fighting fiercely at the front and using his enemies as whetstones for his sword.

Now, the sounds of slaughter from Yun Hu's side were gradually thinning. The battle was likely nearing its end.

Then it was time for him, the Yun Clan's patriarch, to properly demonstrate the Yun Clan's way of receiving guests.

Seeing that the other side still remained composed, Yun Long was not angered and continued, "Since you came together, you must be fellow cultivators from the same clan."

"To send two Qi Refining Stage cultivators at once, then sneak around and creep into my Yun Clan's rear courtyard with your faces hidden—only the Li Family, with the greatest number of cultivators, could likely manage that."

The instant his words fell, Yun Long's previously relaxed and tranquil bearing abruptly changed.

He sprang up from the stone bench like an enraged lion awakening from its slumber.

"Today, I'll show you what a true Arhat Fist is!"

A deafening roar exploded beneath the heavy night sky.

Yun Long clenched his right fist, golden light surging around his body. Behind him, the phantom of an arhat with furious eyes and a solemn, treasure-like countenance vaguely emerged.

The phantom stood several zhang tall, resplendent in golden light, radiating an invincible and ferocious aura.

The golden fist seal was like a burning meteor, carrying the force to crush all in its path as it slammed viciously toward an empty corner of the wall to his left.

There, even the air seemed to warp beneath that violent punch.

"Boom!"

A thunderous explosion rang out.

A bedraggled figure screamed as it was blasted backward from the shadows, blood spraying wildly from its mouth. Like a kite with its string cut, it crashed through half the courtyard wall, sending shattered stones and dust billowing everywhere.

To everyone's surprise, the person Yun Long had sent flying with one punch was not the Li Family cultivator he had mentioned.

It was a gaunt, sinister-looking old man.

This man was none other than the Lu Family's Ancestor, Lu Xingyun.

Lu Xingyun's cultivation had reached the Sixth Level of Qi Refining. Within his body, he had cultivated twenty-eight strands of low-grade Qi—two-inch-long Green Wood Eternal Spring Qi.

"Pfft!"

Lu Xingyun slammed heavily onto the ground and spat out another mouthful of blood. His face instantly turned as white as paper.

Struggling to raise his head, he looked at Yun Long with eyes full of horror and disbelief.

"Damn it! What a cunning junior! What a terrifying fist technique!"

Lu Xingyun let out a hoarse roar, his heart already churning like raging seas.

He had prided himself on hiding perfectly, yet he had not expected the other party to have noticed him long ago—and even used him as the "chicken" to beat before the monkey.

His Green Wood Eternal Spring Qi excelled most at healing and recovery. He did not dare delay in the slightest. The instant he landed, he immediately circulated his technique formula, a faint blue-green radiance spreading over his body as it repaired his damaged meridians and bones.

At the same time, disregarding the massive expenditure of Qi, he rapidly formed hand seals. Green light flashed around him as he actually used the Wood Release Technique, turning into a phantom without looking back and fleeing frantically into the night, vanishing into the distance in an instant.

At the very moment Lu Xingyun, shocked and enraged, opened his mouth to speak—

Yun Long's movements did not pause in the slightest.

He threw a punch without even looking in the direction Lu Xingyun had fled.

Five incomparably pure strands of Vajra Primordial Qi whistled out from within him, swiftly weaving together above his head.

"Buzz—"

An enormous Golden Bell phantom, gleaming with a dark golden luster, abruptly formed and descended upside down.

This golden bell not only protected Yun Long within it, but also enveloped two other locations in the ancestral hall courtyard where people had been hiding all along.

There, two auras that had originally remained fairly calm suddenly became chaotic.