A Century of Foundation Must End, A Sword's Cold Light Cannot Save Heaven

However, the fist that had just broken through the protective True Qi suddenly opened.

A pinch of powder was scattered, seeping directly into the body through the skin.

Du Quan felt his internal energy stagnate, his meridians sluggish. His finger, halfway to its target, lost momentum and grazed past the opponent's collar, striking empty air.

He quickly retreated a few steps.

Immediately, his limbs grew weak and his body listless, his vision blurring.

His heart jolted, and he hastily urged his internal energy to suppress the effect.

But his opponent wouldn't give him such an opportunity.

An afterimage flashed past his right side.

Slash!

A sharp pain brought a brief moment of clarity to his mind.

Du Quan looked at his right arm, following the sensation of pain.

It was gone.

Blood sprayed out in all directions.

"Your right hand is quite good, I shall accept it with pleasure."

A low voice sounded, followed by another side kick.

Du Quan was sent flying, crashing through the roof of the stables.

Before he could struggle to his feet, another handful of powder was sprinkled over him, seeping into his damaged wounds and skin.

In the last moment before succumbing to the powder's effects, the final image in his unfocused pupils was a wooden ghost mask.

Chen Duan casually tossed the severed arm into a large wooden box.

"One more material added."

At this moment, the surrounding stable hands were already frozen in shock by the scene.

It wasn't until Chen Duan's gaze swept over them that they reacted. They immediately closed their eyes, raised their hands, and stammered, "Mercy, good sir! We saw nothing!"

"Saw nothing! We truly saw nothing!"

"It matters not if you saw."

Chen Duan moved, his hand chopping down on the stable hands' necks, rendering them unconscious.

He then shook his hand, dusting off the residual Yellow Medicine wrapped in True Qi.

The effect of this Yellow Medicine was even better than expected.

Even a Five Levels Martial Artist, with their protective True Qi broken, would still succumb to it.

However, the purpose of this trip was not to kill, but to collect materials, so it was best not to engage in a full-blown fight. Using the medicine directly was sufficient.

He then took out a list from his pocket. This was compiled by a 'helpful bystander' he had found earlier.

He pricked his finger and wiped away a name.

Chiliu Sect.

Wei Zhentian knelt down and closed the eyes of a young disciple lying in a pool of blood.

He stood up and surveyed the surroundings. Everywhere he looked, there were corpses.

At the end of the corpses, a figure sat quietly.

The person was as gaunt as a withered tree, surrounded by golden True Qi that lifted his body off the ground, suspending him in the air. He was none other than the current Sect Master of Yuanxiang Sect, Linghu Yan.

Beside him, Yan Cong's eyes were blood-red, and his skin was covered in cracked, dark red patterns. The True Qi beneath the patterns flowed like lava.

"Ling! Hu! Yan!"

Wei Zhentian spat out the name through gritted teeth, his voice distorted by rage.

Hatred and Killing Intent surged within his chest. He had no time to figure out why Linghu Yan was here; only one thought occupied his mind—kill him!

Tear him to shreds!

Yan Cong had briefly regained his senses and felt Wei Zhentian's killing intent. The patterns on his body lit up, and he was about to step forward.

But Linghu Yan raised his hand and stopped him.

He looked at Wei Zhentian, his voice amplified by True Qi.

"Wei Zhentian, do you dare to accept my sword?"

"Why wouldn't I..."

Wei Zhentian almost instinctively agreed, but the words caught in his throat as he stopped himself.

He felt it—an unprecedented, terrifying aura rising from Linghu Yan's broken body.

The sword had not yet been drawn, but its intent had already arrived.

The air seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand, beginning to tremble and hum even before the fight started.

Clang.

The long sword in Linghu Yan's embrace unsheathed itself slightly.

In an instant, the already immense aura surged again, as if it had become tangible, pressing down with a roar.

The golden True Qi was no longer merely lingering but transformed into surging waves, rippling outwards from Linghu Yan as the center.

Under this oppressive pressure, the disciples of the Chiliu Sect, who had been furious, involuntarily felt a chill, their rage suppressed.

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Those with slightly weaker cultivation found their legs turning to jelly, trembling uncontrollably.

Wei Zhentian's heart sank; he understood.

This was the Sword of Life Abandonment.

A sword born from a dying person casting aside all their vitality, burning everything they had.

The next strike would undoubtedly be Linghu Yan's last, and strongest, sword of his life.

Memories of his past defeats uncontrollably surged from his mind again, making his throat involuntarily bob.

Damn it!

Wei Zhentian jolted awake, a surge of shame and anger rushing to the top of his head.

A dying man! An old dog at the end of his rope! And he was actually afraid of him!

His ferocity ignited, his heart hardened, and he was about to agree again.

Suddenly.

A sword cry rang out.

Clear and resonant as a dragon's roar.

Without warning, without charge-up.

The long sword transformed into a stream of golden light, fully unsheathed.

A pure, condensed golden line formed, spanning heaven and earth, heading towards Wei Zhentian.

Wherever it passed, the brick and stone floor was completely destroyed by the shockwave, kicking up large clouds of thick dust.

Space itself seemed to be split in two, carrying an intent to sever everything, rushing forward.

"Whether you dare or not! You will take this sword from me!"

Linghu Yan's voice followed a moment later, almost in sync with the sword light.

"Damn you, old dog Linghu, how dare you attack sneakily!"

"Sneak attack? You have the nerve to say that!"

Prefecture.

West City Gate.

The city gate closed behind them.

Qi Baorui couldn't help but look back.

The city walls appeared exceptionally silent. This place where he had lived for decades, this place where the Yuanxiang Sect had poured a century of effort.

Today, he had to leave after all.

Thanks to meticulous arrangements beforehand and the secret assistance of the Taihui Sect, they had managed to withdraw from this place of trouble without too much danger.

"Let's go."

Beside him, Mo Zhen's calm voice came.

"As long as the people are still here, the sect will not perish. We will return one day."

How difficult it was to abandon a place managed for a hundred years!

But things had reached this point. Despite countless reluctance and myriad helplessness, there was nothing they could do.

The torrent of chaotic times had arrived. Without a "Break Apex" expert guarding the sect, they had lost their qualification to contend for supremacy.

Being able to preserve their core strength to the greatest extent and retreat safely was already the best outcome.

"Wei Zhentian is a reckless brute, difficult to manage the overall situation; Yan Changyou is sinister and immoral, and will eventually suffer retribution. Who the fruit of Qingzhou will ultimately fall to is still uncertain," Mo Zhen commented.

"Sigh, no one is perfect~"

Qi Baorui shook his head, his face filled with emotion and exhaustion.

"They scheme and fight, meticulously planning, but in the end, who can be the true winner?"

Even the Yuanxiang Sect Master, Linghu Yan, had fallen victim to a scheme due to his arrogance and a life that had been too smooth.

Arrogance...

This made Qi Baorui inexplicably think of Chen Duan. That kid should have already left the prefecture...

This really can't be said for sure.

Forget it~

Let him be.

Everything he could and should have done, he has already done.

Personal destiny and fortune cannot be forced.

His gaze swept over the Yuanxiang Sect disciples behind him, their emotions varied.

Worry, confusion, unwillingness, anger...

What will the future hold for Yuanxiang Sect?

No one could give a definitive answer.

Mo Zhen boarded the carriage, "Let's go. There's no need to linger on the past. Our path lies in Shuzhou, where we will rebuild Yuanxiang Sect."

"Okay."

Qi Baorui responded, casting one last, deep look in the direction of Yuanxiang Sect's mountain gate.

Then, he turned around, never looking back.