Sect Attacked

The bells of the mountain gate rang incessantly. On the training grounds, the expression on Li Mu's face changed instantly, and only one thought flashed through his mind: Enemy attack!

The Taoist tradition holds that "nine" is the extreme number, believing that going beyond it is as bad as falling short. The Mount Hua Sect, deeply influenced by Taoist culture, adhered to this philosophy.

The giant bronze bell in front of the mountain gate would only toll nine times in an emergency to signal a warning. Within the Mount Hua Sect, this was known as the "Nine Tolls of Sect Annihilation."

Without a moment's hesitation, Li Mu immediately ordered: "Stop! We are under attack by outsiders. All disciples, follow me into the mountain!"

He didn't know exactly what was happening, but getting his junior brothers and sisters out of harm's way was the right move. They were the future of the Mount Hua Sect, and protecting them would be a great contribution.

As for the rest, he would leave that headache to the sect elders. Anyone daring enough to invade Mount Hua was certainly no ordinary foe, and Li Mu did not believe his own meager strength could turn the tide.

Clearly, the Great Devil King Li still overestimated his own deterrent power, forgetting that among this group of rebellious teenagers, there were some who didn't fear him at all.

Most disciples began to move, but a few hot-headed ones, led by Ning the Little Girl, rushed angrily to Li Mu and questioned him: "Senior Brother, shouldn't we go down the mountain to defend against the enemy? Why are we running?"

Glaring fiercely at them, Li Mu barked: "Shut up! The enemy is coming in force. With your amateur skills, what use are you other than to cause trouble?

Now, listen to my orders: everyone retreat into the mountain and use the terrain to defend together. Those who disobey will be dealt with according to sect rules!"

As the base of the Mount Hua Sect, the mountain had been managed for hundreds of years, and naturally, it was filled with traps and mechanisms.

If the enemy were to charge in blindly, they would surely pay a heavy price. The last group to suffer such a defeat was the Ten Elders of the Demonic Cult, whose demise alongside a thousand cultists had cemented the reputation of the Mount Hua Sect.

As for the methods used, when faced with life-or-death survival, who could afford to be picky?

Just then, an elderly man with graying hair and blood-stained clothes leaped over and scolded: "You juniors, why are you standing there? Why aren't you fleeing? The enemy will be here soon, and we cannot hold them off for long!"

Li Mu was certain that there was no one like this among the Qing-generation elders of the Mount Hua Sect. Judging by his age, he must be a grand-master from an even older generation.

That made sense; the oldest of the Qing-generation elders were only in their sixties, and the youngest, Feng Qingyang, was only in his twenties. It was perfectly normal for elders from an older generation to still be alive.

It was just that these seniors had grown tired of the martial arts world, gradually fading from public view and ignoring its disputes.

This incident was of great importance, as the main force of the Mount Hua Sect had been deployed. It was only logical that these seniors would be asked to guard the mountain gate in secret for safety.

However, high seniority and advanced age did not necessarily equate to peak strength. While Mount Hua's cultivation techniques were excellent for longevity, they could not stop the ravages of time.

Looking at his face, this senior had already reached the age of eighty or ninety, and his actual age might be even greater.

Although his cultivation was still at the peak of the First-Rate realm, the combat power he could exert was likely only seventy or eighty percent of his prime, and his stamina was far inferior to that of a young man.

Seeing the elder's grave expression, Li Mu immediately commanded: "Did you not hear the grand-master's order? Get into the mountain, now."

As he spoke, the battle had already spread to them. Looking out, there were at least two or three hundred enemies, while only a few dozen from the Mount Hua Sect remained to resist.

Even an elephant can be killed by a swarm of ants, and the enemy camp was not without experts. The Mount Hua Sect could only rely on their familiarity with the terrain to resist step by step and stall for time.

At this point, Li Mu could have run away himself, but his junior brothers and sisters would be doomed.

After a rough comparison of their strengths, Li Mu felt they could still put up a fight. Gritting his teeth, he said: "We can't escape. New disciples, find a place to hide. Everyone else, form groups of three and fight together!"

Although these juniors were novices, having them there was better than nothing.

Some of the elites among them had already broken through to the Third-Rate realm and could at least hold off the enemy's lackeys.

Li Mu was now grateful that he hadn't been lazy before and had drilled them hard; otherwise, organizing so many people would have been impossible.

The white-haired elder asked nervously: "Kid Li, can they do it?"

People in the martial arts world were forged through struggle, and the elder had little confidence in a group of greenhouse flowers who had never weathered a storm.

Glancing at the battlefield ahead, Li Mu said bluntly: "At this point, they have to be able to, or today next year will be everyone's death anniversary.

Grand-master, stop wasting time. Our fellow disciples are about to collapse. Let's go take out two of their leaders first."

With that, Li Mu drew his sword and charged. The elder was stunned for a moment, then shocked.

Although he had heard of Li Mu's reputation as a genius, he hadn't expected his martial arts to have progressed so rapidly. But this was a good thing; the stronger their side was, the greater the chance of defeating the enemy.

Casually dispatching two lackeys blocking his path, Li Mu went straight for the Purple-Clad Man. He had realized early on that this man was the strongest among the enemies.

In normal times, Li Mu would never have chosen such a formidable opponent, but the situation was too critical to hold back his strength.

To stall this man in purple, one of his fellow disciples had already lost their life. If he were allowed to continue, the battle would be unwinnable.

Li Mu leaped into the air, swinging his sword in a move called I Cultivate Haoran. A white light flashed, and a dense sword intent surged forth, threatening to swallow the Purple-Clad Man.

He was a veteran of the martial arts world, and faced with the sudden ambush, the Purple-Clad Man hurriedly abandoned his opponent and retreated. In the nick of time, he grabbed a Demonic Cult disciple and threw him at Li Mu, leaping out of the fray.

His first all-out strike had only killed a small lackey, leaving Li Mu secretly annoyed.

If he had known this would happen, he would have targeted a weaker opponent, at least taking out a regular First-Rate expert.

Now that he had been exposed, everyone knew the Mount Hua Sect had an expert like him, and there would be no more chances for a sneak attack.

The Purple-Clad Man, having escaped death, did not rush back into the fray but instead asked: "Who are you, kid? Since when did the Mount Hua Sect have a young expert like you?"

The martial arts world was full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers, so a sudden expert wasn't strange, but such a young one was a rarity.

"Dead men don't need to know so much."

Before he could finish speaking, Li Mu's sword had already left its sheath again. Explanations were impossible; since ancient times, villains have always died from talking too much.

With the battle raging so fiercely, it was better to kill this enemy leader as quickly as possible.