Killing Zhou

Chen Zhuo glanced toward the doorway, unhurriedly lifting the hem of his robe to wipe the blood from between his fingers.

That single dagger strike just now had left his entire hand coated in gore.

If that Long River Gang swordsman hadn't been so repulsive, he might have lived a little longer.

Sturdy Gray-Robed Man

"Who are you?"

Zhou Sheng was also wiping the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

The swordsman's death hadn't moved him in the slightest, nor was he in any rush to attack Chen Zhuo, seemingly brimming with confidence.

"I'm your father."

Chen Zhuo couldn't be bothered with small talk; he picked up the saber from the swordsman's waist and drew it with a sharp shing.

He raised the blade, rose to his feet, and lunged forward—all in one fluid motion.

The blade sliced through the air, causing a low hum to resonate throughout the room.

Without any flashy flourishes, he delivered a vertical slash, aiming straight for Zhou Sheng's life.

Following the momentary hum, the sound of metal clashing rang out through the room.

Clang!

Zhou Sheng held his long saber horizontally above his head, managing to forcefully block Chen Zhuo's heavy, powerful strike.

A fierce gust of wind whistled, causing the gray robes of both men to snap violently.

"You're courting death!"

Zhou Sheng burned with rage, thinking to himself how someone could be so uncouth as to draw a blade the moment they met.

But before he could launch his own attack, Chen Zhuo retracted his saber with blinding speed and brought it down again with a heavy thud.

Zhou Sheng had intended to shift his stance, but Chen Zhuo's second strike was so fast and vicious that he was forced into a passive defense.

Clang!

The sound of the impact rang in his ears once more, vibrating his eardrums.

Just as he managed to catch his breath, Chen Zhuo's third strike arrived.

Zhou Sheng had no choice but to take it head-on.

He succeeded in blocking it again, but his feet slid back a step, and his blood surged turbulently within him.

I'm actually no match for him?!

These three strikes from Chen Zhuo completely shattered the confidence Zhou Sheng had struggled so hard to regain.

Why?

He didn't understand; he had sacrificed everything to replace his blood with that of a demon, becoming a bloodthirsty monster—why was he still so fragile?

These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.

Zhou Sheng let out a roar like a wild beast.

His blood surged throughout his body, and at the cost of tearing his own skin, flesh, and bones, he ferociously thrust his blade forward.

This was a sword technique he had obtained with great difficulty—exquisite and peerless, using the illusory to overcome the real.

He had finally seized the initiative.

Yet, the response he received was Chen Zhuo's ruthless blade.

A vertical slash from above—simple, steady, and devoid of any flashy tricks.

Zhou Sheng felt a sharp pain in his wrist; the immense force made it impossible for him to even hold his weapon, and it went flying.

With a clatter, it hit the ground.

"So, replacing your blood with demon blood only gives you an abundance of vitality; your skin, flesh, and bones still need tempering. And here I thought you could reach the heavens in a single step."

Chen Zhuo stood alone, holding his saber at a slant, and without a moment's hesitation, he brought the blade down again.

"Wait, don't you want to..."

The moment Chen Zhuo raised his blade, Zhou Sheng sensed the danger. He had hoped to use words to delay the strike and carve out a sliver of hope.

But he once again learned just how little Chen Zhuo cared for martial virtue.

As the long blade descended, the air itself seemed to let out a whimper.

The fear, humiliation, and resentment in Zhou Sheng's eyes froze in that very moment.

His head split in two like a cracked watermelon, scattering red and white gore all over the floor.

Three strikes to shatter the heart, four strikes to claim the soul.

In just four strikes, Zhou Sheng had become another soul lost to Chen Zhuo's blade.

Watching Zhou Sheng's corpse slowly collapse, the wall inside Chen Zhuo's heart finally began to crumble.

"Refreshing..."

Chen Zhuo smiled, his expression quickly returning to normal.

He turned to look at the doorway, seeing the burly man in the grey robe had retreated outside, followed by at least several dozen others, all staring at him in unison.

Every gaze was filled with killing intent, yet laced with fear.

After all, the sight of Zhou Sheng's head being blown apart by a single strike had left them deeply shaken.

Everyone was wondering:

"How heavy was that strike?"

They did not know.

But they knew that if they could not dispose of this uninvited guest before them, they would all die.

"Kill him!"

"Avenge Young Master Zhou!"

The dozens of men in grey robes steeled themselves and charged toward Chen Zhuo.

Facing the torrent of numbers, Chen Zhuo swung his long blade, refusing to dodge and instead charging against the current.

He unleashed all nine forms of the Zhengyang Blade Technique.

[Zhengyang Blade Technique +1]

[Zhengyang Blade Technique +1]

He remained expressionless, coldly slaughtering one "beast" after another.

After a few exchanges, the ground was littered with severed limbs and corpses.

Taking advantage of the chaos, he intentionally kicked open the doors to three nearby rooms.

The women, hearing the shouts and slaughter, were all huddled together in the corners.

It took a roar from Chen Zhuo to finally wake them from their stupor.

"If you don't run, you're just waiting to die."

With that said, Chen Zhuo did not linger in the fight, nor did he pay any more attention to the others.

Smashing the doors and shouting those words was the limit of what he could do.

The rest was up to fate.

During a lull in the fighting, Chen Zhuo returned to Zhou Sheng's corpse, fished three porcelain bottles and a stack of banknotes from his body, and quickly tucked them into his robes.

He then grabbed the bulging bundle from the table and carved a bloody path straight to the opposite side.

It wasn't that he didn't want to slaughter them all.

It was just that quite some time had passed; the people behind this estate must have received word, and experts were surely already on their way.

Whether it was the Long River Gang or the Liansheng Sect, he could not afford a head-on collision with them right now.

People would die.

Must retreat quickly.

Fighting as he moved, Chen Zhuo returned to the room where he had first changed, grabbed his original clothes and saber, and quickly reached the stone wall.

He swept his blade horizontally, cutting down three more men with force.

Taking advantage of the fact that the others dared not step forward, he leaped up, vaulted over the stone wall, and followed his original path, quickly reaching the entrance.

He removed the wooden board and crawled back through.

Just as he entered, quite coincidentally, the owner of the jade stall was slowly waking up.

Though still a bit dazed, his eyes were gradually clearing.

As their eyes met, Chen Zhuo admitted he had been too light-handed before, so this time he increased his force to ensure the stall owner would sleep for a full day.

With a "thud," Chen Zhuo delivered a hand-chop, and the stall owner fell back into unconsciousness in his confusion.

"My apologies."

Chen Zhuo stripped the stall owner of his clothes and put them on himself.

After replacing the wooden board, he opened the large cabinet used for storing jade, emptied it out, and tossed the stall owner—along with the grey robe—inside.

Locking the cabinet, Chen Zhuo tore off a piece of cloth to use as a mask to cover his face, then pushed the door open, walked to the stall, and sat down.

It was now midday, and the streets were still bustling with people.

Chen Zhuo observed his surroundings and discovered that there were significantly more members of the Long River Gang about.

As expected... the Long River Gang... no, wait, the Liansheng Sect is here too?!

Chen Zhuo's eyesight was exceptional; not only were there more Long River Gang members on the street, but the black-robed followers of the Liansheng Sect had also increased in number.

These people were looking around, clearly searching for his trail.

They came fast.

Chen Zhuo sat calmly at the stall, acting as the temporary proprietor.