"He might not even make it back alive," Fang Yuan said dismissively.
To become a Council Elder of the Fang Family, one's cultivation had to be at least at the seventh layer of Foundation Building Realm. Such elders were figures on par with the ancestors of ordinary Aristocratic Clans.
"You can go down there too and join your good big brother!"
Fang Yuan couldn't be bothered to waste his breath. True qi surged beneath his feet as he soared into the air, thrusting his sword toward the Fourth Chief atop the mountain.
"I accept your terms!"
The same as the previous paragraph? Actually watermark omit. Paragraph mapping: watermark-only omit.
At the same Ninth Layer Houtian Realm, the Fourth Chief didn't even have the courage to fight back. He turned and shouted loudly.
There was no choice.
He had just witnessed the power of that sword. The Second Brother's corpse hadn't even gone cold yet.
"It's too late now."
Fang Yuan's eyes were cold. He didn't stop, and his Sword Qi cleaved through the air, splitting the Fourth Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold in two from top to bottom.
The Fourth Chief had fallen!
"Most of Green Ridge Stronghold's Chieftains have already died by my hand."
Fang Yuan made a quick count and realized that the Chieftains of Green Ridge Stronghold seemed to have taken quite a liking to him.
He had slaughtered several bandits in succession, but not much time had passed.
The Fang Family clansmen at the foot of the mountain were still struggling inside the grand formation and had yet to break out.
"Please spare us, Fifth Chief. We'll take down the formation at once and won't act rashly again."
In Green Ridge Stronghold, some of the lower-ranking Chieftains couldn't even bring themselves to think of fighting Fang Yuan.
He was too savage!
Fang Yuan folded his arms and quietly watched the bandits at work without saying a word.
"All right, now you can go to the Yellow Springs and repent properly for your sins in this life."
Fang Yuan had no intention of sparing these bandits.
They had committed countless evils and stained their hands with the blood of innocents. They deserved to die.
Boom... Boom... Boom...
With so many living targets around, Fang Yuan decisively began practicing the Myriad Star Fist. It certainly wasn't because he was running low on true qi.
Fang Yuan moved with Phantom Step, his footwork so swift that ordinary people could barely follow its path. He raised his fist, and with every strike, someone fell dead.
He was like an asura from a sea of blood, reaping the lives of evildoers.
"What's going on?"
The Fang Family members had just emerged from the formation. They stared at the scene before them in shock.
Blood had soaked the ground, and corpses littered the mountainside. Many disciples who had never seen such a sight couldn't help retching.
"Has Green Ridge Stronghold turned on itself?"
A Steward had sharp eyes. He caught sight of Fang Yuan's rapidly moving figure and asked uncertainly.
"It wasn't infighting!"
"It's the Young Master!"
The revelation left everyone stunned. Fang Hai stared fixedly at Fang Yuan, excitement rising on his face.
"What? The Young Master?!"
"Look, he's using our clan's signature martial art, the Myriad Star Fist. There's no mistaking it."
A chorus of startled, bewildered voices rose among the Stewards.
"Many of the corpses lying here were Xiantian Realm experts!"
"Look over there—isn't that the Second Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold...?" one Steward said, pointing at a head, his voice full of shock.
"The Young Master truly has the bearing of a celestial!"
Looking at the corpses strewn across the mountains, not one person doubted what Fang Hai had said. Their minds were buzzing.
"No wonder the formation suddenly broke apart just now."
The Fang Family Stewards were relatively strong. Before the clansmen behind them had caught up, they had already joined the battle.
Almost all of Green Ridge Stronghold's Xiantian experts were dead. The Fang Family Stewards faced no pressure at all from a group of Houtian Realm cultivators and martial artists.
"Is it over already?"
Many of the Fang Family clansmen who arrived later stared at the chaos covering the ground, rooted to the spot.
Some of them had come to gain experience, but there were hardly any bandits left alive to be seen.
"Greetings, Young Master!"
After Fang Yuan punched a Houtian Ninth Layer bandit into a cloud of blood, a crowd surged toward him from behind and bowed respectfully.
When Fang Yuan saw Fang Hai among them, he wasn't surprised that they had recognized him.
"Have some men guard every exit. The rest, head farther inside and wipe out the remaining bandits," Fang Yuan ordered.
The Stewards had seen Fang Yuan display his might. They genuinely admired his strength, not merely his status, and naturally obeyed.
"The Young Master reached Green Ridge Stronghold long ago. He's so strong!"
The late-arriving clansmen only realized what had happened after Fang Yuan removed his disguise. Their faces filled with shock.
Fang Yuan hadn't forgotten the purpose of this trip. Fang Man was still being held by the people of Green Ridge Stronghold. He had to find him and get him out as soon as possible.
But just as Fang Yuan took a step, he suddenly felt as if someone had locked onto him. A chill spread through his body.
"Not good! The First Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold is back!"
Fang Yuan had only just turned around when he heard a Steward cry out in alarm, his voice trembling.
At that moment, the shockwaves from the distant battle had stopped.
A streak of light raced through the sky, as if half of it had been dyed blood-red. It was a terrifying sight.
"Are you Fang Yuan?"
The blood-colored figure landed, and everyone could finally make out his appearance. He wore a black-and-red robe, had a sharp nose, and an impassive face.
He made no move, merely standing there as blood-red true qi swirled around him. A tremendous pressure weighed on everyone.
Especially when his gaze swept across them. Whoever it fell upon felt as though they couldn't breathe.
Foundation Building Realm!
Facing an expert of the Foundation Building Realm, the pressure was self-evident.
"So you're the bandit chief who gathered resources and wreaked havoc on Falling Mist Mountain?"
Fang Yuan deliberately emphasized the words "bandit chief."
For a Foundation Building Realm cultivator to sink to such a state was truly laughable.
As for his imposing aura, it didn't faze Fang Yuan in the slightest.
During his trial at the Azure Cloud Sect, he had even seen a Golden Core True Lord. That person's aura had been like a small sun hanging high in the sky.
Compared to him, the First Chief of Green Ridge Stronghold was no more than a firefly trying to rival the bright moon.
"His strength should be inferior to the Eleventh Elder's. Looks like he used some method to break free temporarily."
Though Fang Yuan hadn't yet condensed his Divine Sense, his spiritual power had grown considerably. He could vaguely sense it, and formed a guess.
"I hope you're still that stubborn when you're dead."
The blood-colored figure moved. He took a single step, and the ground caved in beneath him as his blood-red true qi surged toward Fang Yuan like a tidal wave.
"I am Mad Blood Daoist. Remember that name, and repent properly in hell!"
With that, he drew upon the blood-red true qi within his body, gathering it together before transforming it into a palm print that slammed down heavily.
Boom...
Wherever the palm print passed, the air was compressed with a thunderous boom, leaving a vast vacuum in its wake as it streaked across the sky.
"Break!"
Fang Yuan withstood the immense pressure. Daring not to hold anything back, he summoned all his strength and drew the long sword at his waist.
Whoosh...
A sword cry rang out. Swordlight flashed as a long arc of Sword Qi swept forth, as if several sword shadows had overlapped.
Gale Nine Swords!
"Martial arts at the perfected level. What a pity your strength is too weak."
Mad Blood Daoist licked his crimson lips, a cold smile on his face.
The boundless Sword Qi held back the blood-red palm print in midair for only a moment before shattering abruptly and scattering into specks of light.
Fang Yuan's pupils contracted. He immediately used Phantom Step, turned his wrist, and struck with three consecutive swords, stacking twenty-seven sword shadows!
At that moment,
the blood-red palm print had only just shattered and dispersed, yet the blood mist looming overhead pressed down with even greater weight...
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