Medicine King Sect, Annihilated

The compound was a mess in the lingering light of the lightning.

The once meticulously carved pillars and railings were now shattered on the ground.

Rainwater washed over the dark red bloodstains on the stone slabs, flowing slowly with the mud.

The Medicine King Sect's pride, their herb garden, had been utterly trampled into mud, its rare flowers and exotic plants twisted and fallen.

Dying disciples of the Medicine King Sect writhed in the cold rain, their bodies spasming uncontrollably, emitting hoarse, wheezing groans like a broken bellows.

The Dragon Guards advanced steadily, their steps like an unstoppable flood, silent and ruthless.

A few surviving Medicine King Sect disciples struggled to rise and resist, but Meng Yuanchao's blade flashed down like lightning, swift and decisive.

Yun Zilu cleanly dispatched an enemy lunging at her, but her gaze inadvertently swept over the face of a young disciple huddled in a corner, now disarmed.

Pure terror and despair were etched onto the boy's pale, childish face, causing Yun Zilu's movements to falter for a moment.

However, in the next second, Yang Mu lunged forward like a gale, his blade a flashing arc, leaving only a short, sharp whimper amidst the thunder.

The almost imperceptible hesitation in Yun Zilu's eyes vanished instantly in the cold, iron-laced rain.

The Dragon Guard's duty was to obey orders; there was no room for softness.

"Bang!"

The massive wooden door of the main building, carved with ancient vines and poisonous toads, shattered with a deafening roar.

Amidst the flying splinters, a hunched, emaciated figure was thrown back several steps, crashing heavily against a stone wall covered in cracks and dried, dark purple bloodstains, before he managed to steady himself.

He was the current Sect Master of the Medicine King Sect, Shi Wanchen!

Once the undisputed master of poison in the southwest, he now resembled a tattered old piece of paper, trembling violently in the howling wind.

His once immaculately styled white hair was now disheveled, clinging to his sweat-soaked, grimy forehead, his face ashen and withered.

Dark purple, thick blood foam continuously seeped from his lips, splattering onto his robes with each labored gasp.

Every difficult breath sent violent spasms through his lungs, the bone-deep pain contorting his desiccated features.

Another flash of lightning, stark white, tore through the sky!

The light briefly illuminated the end of the narrow passage in front of the main gate.

A heavy shadow surged and piled up like a physical entity, finally coalescing into an exceptionally tall and imposing figure.

The Dragon Guard's Yu Unit (Camp), Divine Department Squad Leader, Shen Hu Chan!

Shen Hu Chan's steps were solid, his boots crushing the thick mud and blood. The hem of his cloak billowed in the wind and rain like a flag of doom.

His rugged face seemed to hold millennia of cold ice, devoid of any human warmth, only a condescending indifference.

The colossal saber in his hand, nearly as tall as he was, was held casually at his side, its cold tip drawing a wet, shining line on the damp ground.

"Why?"

Shi Wanchen suddenly looked up, his dim eyes flashing with a terrifying light. His voice was hoarse, like rough sand grinding together, each word squeezed out with difficulty from his broken lungs.

"You've crossed the line!" Shen Hu Chan's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the pouring rain, each word like a shard of frost, striking Shi Wanchen's ears clearly.

The Dragon Guard was a special organization loyal only to the Emperor, and outsiders were forbidden to interfere!

Murong Jingyue, as a Dragon Guard Garrison General, wanting to climb the ranks was one thing.

Even if he used some underhanded tactics in the process, the Emperor and the City Lord (Commander) could turn a blind eye.

But for the Medicine King Sect to get involved, that was a completely different matter!

If Murong Jingyue rose to power through the strength of his sect, would he obey the Emperor's orders in the future, or Shi Wanchen's?

If everyone followed Murong Jingyue's example, could the Dragon Guard still be the Emperor's purest blade?

Shi Wanchen had come this far, so he was naturally not a fool.

He understood the meaning behind Shen Hu Chan's words and knew that escape was impossible today.

He suddenly straightened his body, his withered chest heaving violently, and roared like a dying beast, "We'll go down together! If... I die, you... won't live either!"

Before his words even fell, Shi Wanchen suddenly bent down, his right hand moving with ghostly speed, stabbing directly at an acupoint on his chest!

A visible, eerie, dark green aura, like a living snake, shot from his withered neck to his cheek.

The burning green in his eyes intensified, sharp as a millennium-refined poison!

The veins under his skin bulged and writhed, as if about to burst, his appearance frenzied and terrifying!

"A dying struggle!" Shen Hu Chan sneered. The moment his words fell, his figure moved like lightning!

The giant saber, carrying a piercing whistling sound, slashed directly at Shi Wanchen.

Six Paths of Zen, [Seeking the Way]!

"Clang!"

A piercing clash of metal erupted in the wind and rain, sparks flying!

Shi Wanchen didn't meet the blow head-on. His withered claws were now adorned with a bizarre, scorpion-stinger-like gauntlet.

In a flash, he actually managed to deflect Shen Hu Chan's saber by several inches!

At the same time, a pungent, suffocatingly spicy, fishy odor suddenly erupted from him, instantly filling the air!

Shen Hu Chan moved with his extraordinary footwork, his great blade flashing like concentrated spiritual light, the edge carrying the Way, having endured a thousand years of suffering for this single, explosive strike!

It was the Six Paths of Zen, Enlightenment!

The blade technique was cunning and elusive, swift as a phantom, completely sealing off Shi Wanchen's escape routes.

"Pfft... pfft... pfft..."

Shi Wanchen's hunched figure was completely submerged in the endless torrent of blade light, only the swirling clouds of blood mist proving his existence.

When all the sharpness faded, Shi Wanchen had fallen completely.

His eyes, which had once struck fear into countless experts in the Southern Border, stared fixedly into the void.

Lingering in his gaze were extremely complex emotions: shock, confusion, sudden realization, and finally, a deathly stillness of utter despair!

Shen Hu Chan's voice cut through the wind and rain, falling clearly. Every word was calm and devoid of emotion, yet carried the judgment that would crush all lawlessness: "Your Medicine King Sect has relied on poison to establish itself for a hundred years, acting with utter arrogance. Today, you shall be utterly annihilated by..."

He paused slightly, a curve appearing at the corner of his mouth that seemed colder than ice: "... your own poisonous smoke."

Shen Hu Chan's final glance swept over the scorched and broken ground before he turned and left.

"Clean it up," Miao Changfeng then commanded. Water dripped from his sword tip; there was no more blood to spill here, no more lives to take.

"Yes!" Guan Kunwu's voice was so flat it carried no hint of emotion, as if everything that had just happened was merely the crushing of an anthill.

Cold raindrops struck the sheathed weapons, producing a monotonous sound.

"Drip... drip..."