Let Me Die Knowing the Truth—Who Are You?

How many Xiantian Realm experts were there in all of Luyang Prefecture?

Even if Yang Yaozu had not met every Xiantian Realm expert, he had heard their names, knew their physical characteristics, and knew the cultivation techniques and combat skills that represented them.

But Zhang Yuan before him—he was certain he had never seen him before, nor had he ever heard of him.

"Since when did Luyang Prefecture have such a Xiantian Realm expert..."

Yang Yaozu, who had fallen to the ground, muttered. Then his face turned deathly pale as he flipped over, scrambled up, and ran toward Guangyuan Stockade.

Why was there firelight in Guangyuan Stockade?

"Bald donkey, if anything happened to my brothers in the stockade..."

He did not dare think further.

Those monks from Liangyuan Region had looked amiable and spoken with great ease.

They had only said that, as disciples of the Buddhist sect, it was inconvenient for them to act in Great Qin, so they had sought Guangyuan Stockade's assistance.

They had also displayed their strength. They truly were powerful, yet they had shown no intention of bullying the weak with their strength.

Moreover, the leading monk had promised that once they recovered the treasure, he would take Yang Yaozu as his disciple and personally teach him the Buddhist Fist Technique.

Everything had been agreed upon.

So why was firelight now rising from Guangyuan Stockade?

Zhang Yuan had no such questions. He simply strode through the air, covering thirty yards in a single step.

Though martial artists of the Xiantian Realm could not ride the air and fly as in legend, nor wield swords to flee through the skies like the immortals of myth, with true essence upon their bodies, they could become as light as swallows, swift as the wind, and tread the air like clouds.

Two years ago, Zhang Yuan had found a decent martial lightness technique and quietly cultivated it.

Battlefield generals rarely cultivated lightness techniques, for the paths were different, and training them felt utterly awkward.

Zhang Yuan had no such concerns.

He had merely mastered the technique, then used Insight Beads to improve it. In little more than half a year, he had integrated that lightness technique into his own Mountains and Rivers Move.

The cultivation of the lightness technique not only gave him the agility and swiftness of a martial wanderer, but also added another layer to his comprehension of power.

Lift Light as Heavy, Lift Heavy as Light—between those two forms of Power Control, he could transform at will, achieving a true conversion of yin and yang.

As he raced forward, golden-red light shone from Zhang Yuan's eyes.

On the mountain ridge ahead, apart from the fire shooting into the sky, only scattered pale-red pillars of light remained.

Of a stockade with hundreds of people, were only this few living souls left?

Killing intent condensed into substance in Zhang Yuan's eyes.

The bandits of Guangyuan Stockade could be killed, but that was for the Great Qin government to do.

Buddhist disciples from Liangyuan Region coming to Great Qin to kill people was not acceptable!

His gaze swept over the scene. Within the mountain ridge behind the stockade, there were more than a dozen pillars of light, darker red in color.

Among them was one that was actually orange-red—the color belonging only to the Xiantian Realm.

As a member of the Martial Guard Bureau, Zhang Yuan had read intelligence regarding Buddhist Cultivators in Liangyuan Region.

These Buddhist Cultivators often infiltrated Great Qin and other nations, spreading their teachings under the banner of all beings being equal and Buddha delivering the world.

Yet these Buddhist disciples, who spoke constantly of compassion, showed not the slightest mercy when killing.

Zhang Yuan moved like an arrow loosed from the bowstring. After several flashes, he had already reached the foot of the mountain ridge.

"Who goes there!"

"Watch out!"

Startled cries sounded from the forest.

Zhang Yuan flew down onto a treetop. Below him, a bald big man planted one foot on a tree trunk, leaped more than ten feet into the air, and smashed a fist down at Zhang Yuan's head.

The fist was vicious and heavy. If it struck, the rib bones would surely shatter and the internal organs would be displaced.

It seemed the records had not lied. These Buddhist disciples who cried compassion were not compassionate at all when they struck.

Standing atop the tree, Zhang Yuan braced himself on one foot, lowered himself slightly, raised his right leg, and kicked down hard.

This move was the Welcoming Horse Crouch from martial arts. Exerting force with one leg, one could kick and stomp both forward and backward.

The force of a single strike was like a galloping horse trampling ahead.

Bang—

Zhang Yuan's foot struck the big man's chest squarely, kicking him straight down from a height of more than ten feet and smashing him into the jagged rocks amid the forest.

Zhang Yuan followed him down, stepped forward, and planted his foot on the fallen man's head.

Crack—

Red and white splattered everywhere.

The Buddhist disciples who had been sitting in a circle in the forest stood up, staring at Zhang Yuan as he descended from the sky, blood bright beneath his feet.

In the night, Zhang Yuan looked like a demon god.

For a moment, all those bald big men froze where they stood.

They had seen ruthless fighters before, but never one so ruthless in killing.

Several breaths later.

"Kill—"

Someone howled, raising a long staff and bringing it down at Zhang Yuan's head.

On the other side, two men did not hesitate either. Their heavy long blades swept horizontally toward Zhang Yuan's waist.

Several gray-robed Buddhist disciples standing nearby gripped their staffs and long blades tightly, their faces savage as they stared intently at Zhang Yuan.

Bang—

The long staff smashing down at him was shattered by Zhang Yuan's fist.

His right fist rose, his left fist pressed forward, and he stepped in with a charging punch, all in one fluid motion.

Moving Mountains and Seizing Peaks from the Mountain Yue Fist Technique merged with Half-Step Collapse Fist from the Ironclad Fist. The fully integrated force of the fist moved as his heart willed.

Smack—

Zhang Yuan's left fist struck the chest of the Buddhist disciple holding the staff. The man's body instantly flew backward as blood gushed from his mouth.

His flying body crashed into a pine tree as thick as a foot behind him.

The trunk gave a crack and slowly folded over.

That punch exceeded the Strength of One Ox!

"Xiantian Realm!"

The monk ahead, holding a crescent spade and wearing a string of duck-egg-sized beads around his neck, gave a low shout. "Retreat—"

Yet rather than retreating himself, he advanced, swinging the crescent spade horizontally at Zhang Yuan's waist.

At that moment, two long blades fell at Zhang Yuan from either side, while the crescent spade swept toward him from the front.

His only choice was to retreat.

But he did not retreat.

In this world, perhaps only a Grandmaster Realm expert could make him retreat.

As the twin blades slashed down, he met them head-on, raised both arms, and rushed straight through like a galloping horse.

The two long blades missed. The two bald martial artists were struck in the chest by Zhang Yuan's arms, spraying blood as they fell backward to the ground.

The true essence carried within that blow had already shattered their sinews and bones.

Back in Fengtian County City, Zhang Yuan and Young Master Tao had both been pierced through the body by an arrow from a Xiantian Realm expert. Zhang Yuan had been fortunate, but Young Master Tao had been directly cut off from the martial path.

Such was the tyranny of Xiantian True Essence.

After knocking down two men with one blow, Zhang Yuan spun and kicked out, blocking the crescent spade sweeping toward him.

Bang—

A surge of Xiantian force coiled upward, turning into a fierce gale that swept scattered pine needles and loose stones into whirling flight.

The bald martial artists scattered around them were forced to retreat backward, their bodies beyond their control.

When two Xiantian Realm experts fought, all beneath the Xiantian Realm were but ants.

"Ah—"

From the mountain ridge below came Yang Yaozu's heart-rending howl.

Zhang Yuan remained expressionless. He stepped forward as true essence condensed around his body like golden armor.

"Benefactor, you and I have no grudge between us. Today must surely be a misunderstanding." The monk wielding the crescent spade dragged it with one hand and took a slight step back as he spoke in a deep voice.

A faint bloody hue shone in Zhang Yuan's eyes. "You entered Qin Territory and killed Qin people. Today, this captain will send you to meet your Wisdom King Buddha."

As his words fell, Zhang Yuan stepped forward, sank his waist, and threw a punch.

Golden streams of light gathered over the edge of his fist. Behind him, a faint Mountain's Shadow emerged.

"Fist intent taking form!"

The Xiantian Realm Buddhist Cultivator ahead cried out as though he had seen a ghost, raising the crescent spade before himself.

Crack—

The crescent spade broke apart. A tremendous force, like a mountain collapsing, slammed into the Buddhist Cultivator's chest.

The duck-egg-sized prayer beads shattered and sank deep into his rib bones as the Xiantian Realm Buddhist Cultivator retreated.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

After three steps, he fell and sat on the ground, raising his head to look at Zhang Yuan.

"Let me die knowing the truth."

"Who exactly are you?"