As dawn broke, a group of figures slowly approached.
The leader was about forty years old, dressed in the attire of the Nether Pavilion Deacon, with a fierce face, sharp eyes, and a thick-backed cleaver hanging at his waist.
He was followed by five young disciples dressed in black, all elite disciples of the Nether Pavilion, who were ordered to carry out a mission with him.
" Deacon, there are signs of a fight in that woods ahead..."
One of the disciples suddenly spoke, his gaze fixed on a sparse patch of woodland ahead.
The Deacon's surname is Wang, and his given name is Lie. He is a senior and experienced steward in the Nether Pavilion Deacon.
His gaze followed the disciple's direction, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
There were broken trees and rummaged-up soil in the woods, and several dark marks were faintly visible, clearly indicating that a fight had taken place.
"Let's go take a look."
Wang Lie said in a deep voice, turned around, and took the lead in walking towards the woods.
The five disciples quickly followed, their hands already on their weapons at their waists, their eyes scanning their surroundings warily.
As they stepped into the woods, the sight before them caused all six of them to stop in their tracks.
The scene was a complete mess.
Within a radius of several dozen feet, trees were broken and fallen, and the ground was crisscrossed with deep gullies, dotted with pits of all sizes.
Gravel and broken branches were scattered all over the ground, stained with dried, dark blood.
These are the marks of a fierce battle.
Wang Lie's gaze swept over the broken trees and crisscrossing ravines, his pupils slightly contracting.
The level of destruction was such that both sides in the fight were far stronger than him.
His gaze continued forward, and then—
His body suddenly stiffened.
More than ten feet away, two corpses lay silently in a pool of blood.
A corpse was dressed in a black robe with dark silver patterns. Its left arm hung limply at its side, and there was a gruesome wound on its neck. Its head had rolled several feet away, and the young face was frozen with terror and despair.
The other corpse was tall and burly, wearing the dark-patterned black robe unique to Elder of the Nether Pavilion. It was covered in blood, its right arm twisted at an eerie angle, and there was a deep palm print on its chest.
"This, this...?"
Wang Lie's breath caught in his throat at that moment.
He recognized the two corpses.
The young man was Yin Huang, True Disciple disciple of a sect ranked eighty-second on the Prodigy Ranking.
And that tall figure was none other than Yin Wugou, Elder of the sect.
"Elder Yin... Elder Yin?!"
Behind him, a young disciple's voice trembled, filled with undisguised horror.
The other four were also deathly pale, their eyes filled with disbelief.
Yin Wugou.
Elder of the Nether Pavilion, with a cultivation level of Second Grade, his combat strength ranks in the upper-middle range among the Elder in the pavilion.
At this moment, he was a cold corpse, lying in a pool of blood.
" Deacon... this..."
One of the disciples opened his mouth, but his voice was so hoarse that it was almost inaudible.
Wang Lie did not answer.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil surging within him, and strode towards the two corpses.
The steps were slow, each one feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds.
He crouched down as he approached, his gaze falling on Yin Wugou's blood-stained face.
Those sharp eyes had lost all their luster, staring blankly at the gray sky.
He extended his right hand and probed for Yin Wugou's pulse.
As expected, it was ice-cold to the touch and had long since stopped beating.
He then examined Yin Wugou's injuries—her right arm was broken, a deep palm print was embedded in her chest, her ribs were shattered, and her internal organs were crushed.
The person who inflicted such injuries must be no less powerful than Yin Wugou.
"Several people are surrounding and attacking Elder Yin!"
Wang Lie stood up, his gaze falling on the ravaged battlefield.
Those crisscrossing ravines, those giant trees shattered by the force of the palm strike, those bloodstains scattered everywhere...
A brutal massacre once took place here.
Several Upper Third Grade artists of the third rank who had reached the level of Elder surrounded and killed Elder Yin Wugou. Elder Yin Wugou was no match for them and was killed by the combined forces.
" Deacon..."
The disciple's voice came from behind again, trembling with barely suppressed emotion.
"We... we must report this to the sect immediately!"
Wang Lie did not turn around.
He was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, his voice hoarse and low.
"Collect the body."
He paused, his gaze still fixed on the ravaged battlefield, his sharp eyes now filled with an indescribable complexity.
"Then... immediately send a message to the sect."
The Nether Pavilion sect.
The continuous black palaces are built against the mountain, exuding a solemn and murderous aura.
Deep inside, in the magnificent hall, Li Wushang stood with his hands behind his back by the window, gazing out.
He is in a restless state of mind today.
That unease has been lingering in my mind since last night, and I can't shake it off.
A night has passed since Yin Wugou went to rescue Yin Huang, but no news has come back.
"Perhaps I'm overthinking it."
He muttered to himself and shook his head.
With her Second Grade cultivation, Yin Wugou would be able to escape even if she encountered a skilled Elder from the Azure Profound Sect.
However, that unease lingered in my heart, refusing to dissipate.
A gentle knock was heard on the palace door.
"Come in."
Li Wushang turned around.
A Deacon dressed in black strode in, holding a letter in his hands.
The letter was sealed with sealing wax, and the seal was imprinted with the unique dark flame patterns of the Nether Pavilion.
"Vice Pavilion Master Li, urgent report!"
The Deacon's voice trembled slightly, a tremor he could hardly conceal.
Li Wushang's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He took the letter and opened it.
His gaze swept over the handwriting on the letter.
" Yin Huang and Yin Wugou are dead, and their bodies were found in a wooded area in the eastern part of Qingyang Prefecture."
His face turned deathly pale in that instant, and the pupils in his deep eyes contracted slightly.
The knuckles of the hand gripping the letter were slightly white from the force.
Yin Wugou.
Dead?
His colleague of many years, the Second Grade martial artist whose combat strength ranked in the upper-middle tier among the Elder of the pavilion, was dead?
" Elder Yin... how could this be...?"
His voice was very soft, so soft it was as if he were talking to himself.
But the suppressed horror and anger made the Deacon, who stood with his head bowed, shiver involuntarily.
"We've fallen into a trap!!!"
Li Wushang took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in his heart.
He looked down again at the letter.
My gaze lingered on the names " Yin Huang " and " Yin Wugou ".
Yin Huang cried for help, Yin Wugou came to his rescue. Then, the two of them died at the same place.
He suddenly raised his head, and a flash of understanding appeared in his deep eyes.
trap.
This is a trap.
Yin Huang's plea for help was bait.
The true target of the Azure Profound Sect is Yin Wugou.
"Good... very good!"
Li Wushang gritted his teeth, speaking each word slowly and deliberately, his voice as low and deep as the cold wind of a winter night.
The air inside the hall seemed to freeze.
The Deacon stood with his head bowed, not daring to utter a sound.
A moment later, Li Wushang raised his head.
In those deep, dark eyes, only a cold resolve remained.
" The Azure Profound Sect set a trap and killed Elder Yin Wugou. Pass down the order."
His voice returned to its usual calm, but beneath that calmness lay a volcano about to erupt.
"Gather manpower and launch a retaliation against the Azure Profound Sect's overseas businesses."
"Let them know what price they will pay for killing Elder of my Nether Pavilion."
"Yes!"
The Deacon was shocked by the news of Yin Wugou's death. After a moment, he bowed and responded, then quickly left the hall.
The footsteps quickly disappeared at the end of the corridor.
Li Wushang stood with his hands behind his back by the window, gazing outside.
A cold glint flashed in those deep, dark eyes.
Morning light streamed through the window into the Quiet Room, casting soft shadows on the floor.
Fang Han sat cross-legged on the futon, his aura as calm and still as water.
After switching to the < Azure Profound Art >, the circulation of Internal Qi within his body became even more profound. The feeling of purity and refinement made each of his cultivation sessions incredibly pleasant.
A soft knock came from the door.
"Senior brother, a disciple from the Law Enforcement Hall has come to deliver a message, requesting that you proceed to the Law Enforcement Hall immediately."
Qui Lan's voice rang out from outside the door.
Fang Han slowly opened his eyes, a glint of light flashing in them.
"Knew."
He stood up, straightened his robes, and walked out of the Quiet Room.
The main hall of the Law Enforcement Hall remained solemn and dignified, with a faint Sandalwood Incense filling the air.
After the announcement, a disciple on duty led Fang Han to the Side Hall.
Inside the hall, Elder Zhou Jin sat at the head of the table, holding a scroll in his hand, intently reading it.
Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw Fang Han. A faint smile appeared on his usually expressionless face.
"Nephew Fang has arrived, please have a seat."
"Thank you, Elder."
Fang Han sat down on the pear wood chair at the lower end of the table, his gaze falling on Zhou Jin.
Zhou Jin put down the dossier in his hand, looked at Fang Han, and slowly spoke:
"I have summoned you here today because there is something I wish to tell you."
Fang Han listened quietly.
" Yin Wugou is dead."
Zhou Jin's voice was calm, as if he were simply stating something perfectly ordinary.
" Yin Wugou is dead?"
Fang Han's pupils contracted slightly.
Yin Wugou.
The Second Grade Elder of the Nether Pavilion who ambushed him on his way back to the sect and severely injured him with a single palm strike.
Dead?
"The sect set a trap, using Yin Huang as bait to lure Yin Wugou to the rescue, and then surrounded and killed him."
Zhou Jin continued.
'They were surrounded and killed by the sect...'
Fang Han remained silent, too shocked by the news to remain so.
Yin Wugou is dead.
The man who nearly killed him is dead.
This is the sect standing up for him!
An indescribable emotion welled up inside me.
That was happiness.
But along with the joy, worries inevitably arose.
A Second Grade Elder holds a position in the Nether Pavilion that is far superior to that of an ordinary Deacon or disciple.
The Nether Pavilion will not let the murder of Yin Wugou go unpunished.
"Thank you, sect, for seeking justice for your disciple."
Fang Han stood up and solemnly bowed.
Zhou Jin nodded slightly, gesturing for him to sit down.
" Yin Wugou ambushed you first, and the sect will naturally stand up for you, but..."
He paused, a hint of seriousness flashing in his calm eyes.
"With a Second Grade Elder killed, the Nether Pavilion will surely retaliate fiercely. For the next period of time, unless absolutely necessary, you should stay within the sect and not go out."
"Disciple understands."
Fang Han nodded in agreement.
He knew that what Zhou Jin said was true.
Yin Wugou's death was like adding fuel to the fire.
The Nether Pavilion and the Azure Profound Sect were already at loggerheads, and now that a Second Grade Elder had fallen at the hands of the Azure Profound Sect, how could they possibly let it go?
The ensuing retaliation will undoubtedly be swift and ruthless.