The Dust Settles

Wang Yuehu easily dealt with one instructor, and the fullness in his stomach left him greatly satisfied.

Though he had taken care of a few in Taixi City as well, there had been too many eyes around. He had moved with some restraint, afraid of being discovered. It had been a long time since he had felt this exhilarated.

As they advanced, the distance to Crimson Fire Stronghold gradually shortened.

When the watchtowers on either side of the mountain where Crimson Fire Stronghold stood came vaguely into view, Wang Yuehu, who led the group, noticed that things seemed somewhat different from what he had expected.

They had already completely entered the encirclement he had discussed beforehand with his elder brother and the others.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he swept his gaze across the forests on both sides. Within those shadowy woods, at those familiar hidden sentry points, there was not a trace of anyone.

It had only been this long.

His elder brother had already trained their concealment to such a degree!

Even I failed to spot them.

Thinking this, Wang Yuehu could not help but feel a faint admiration for his elder brother's methods.

But in the end, the entire group had already entered the agreed-upon encirclement, yet the surrounding forests and mountains remained so quiet it was hard to imagine.

There was still no movement, not the slightest trace of anyone.

An inexplicable unease abruptly surfaced in his heart.

Wang Yuehu's steps immediately slowed. His movement quickly caught the attention of Deputy Pavilion Master Xiang Shou beside him.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

Wang Yuehu shook his head, immediately indicating that there was nothing wrong.

Then he motioned for them to continue onward.

As they approached Crimson Fire Stronghold's gate, even the guard posts by the gate were completely empty.

A faint scent of blood still hung in the air.

This abnormality struck the instructors and numerous disciples behind them as strange, but they did not think too much of it yet.

But once the disciples reached the area before the gate and saw the unbelievable scene within the stronghold from afar, they could not help drawing in a sharp breath.

In the middle of the vast square lay countless corpses, scattered every which way. One silent Crimson Fire Bandit after another lay piled in succession.

The Crimson Fire Bandits had died miserably.

Some were missing arms and legs. Others had either been slain by a single sword through the throat or left with horrifying holes in their chests.

Even more terrifying were the headless corpses lying carelessly on the ground. The places where their heads should have been were blasted into vast patches of white, mixed with dark red blood that had pooled into rivers.

Wang Yuehu stood silently in the middle of the stronghold gate. His legs, which had always been so light and nimble, suddenly felt as though they had been filled with lead, incomparably heavy.

Staring blankly at the savage scene within the stronghold, his eyes were filled with bewilderment and incomprehension.

I only went out for a while.

I stayed away for a while.

Then my stronghold.

My home was just gone?

Wang Yuehu's widened eyes were filled with indescribable disbelief, along with confusion over the unknown truth.

He truly could not believe everything before his eyes.

His elder brother had already reached the Fourth Realm Return to Hiding. Together with several capable fighters of the Second Realm in the stronghold, and some First Realm Unentered companions—

They might even have had the strength to fight a martial cultivator of the Fifth Realm Marrow Washing.

Yet the reality was that everyone in the entire stronghold had inexplicably died to the last man?

But the facts were beyond dispute, and the scene before him left Wang Yuehu no room for doubt.

Because among the corpses on the ground, he soon found his elder brother, who had always treated him well and possessed Fourth Realm cultivation.

His breathing immediately grew hurried.

"Do you feel angry?"

Deputy Pavilion Master Xiang Shou stepped forward at that moment. Looking at Yang Long's headless corpse on the ground, he suddenly asked this seemingly unprompted question.

"What... do you mean?"

Wang Yuehu, still slightly dazed, froze upon hearing this. His dark face abruptly turned deathly pale.

His heavy robes were soaked through with cold sweat, and an ominous premonition suddenly rose in his heart.

Yet Xiang Shou merely turned to look at him and gave him a slight smile, one laden with deep meaning.

Just as Wang Yuehu's scalp went numb and his hand slipped into his sleeve to pull something out—

A flash of blade light abruptly appeared before him.

Then that blade light accelerated, stabbing forth with terrifying force faster than one could cover one's ears.

With a soft hiss.

A flash of blade light passed through Wang Yuehu's neck. His fine head separated from his body and fell cleanly to the ground.

Like a rolling ball.

His unclosed eyes remained fixed stubbornly ahead. Even at death, he still found it hard to believe it was real.

This heaven-defying scene—

Was witnessed by all the martial pavilion disciples around them, who were still utterly shocked and could not understand what had happened in that instant.

How had it suddenly come to this?

Why had their own people started fighting each other?

Their Pavilion Master was just gone like that?

Several instructors had already leaped forward with blades in hand, surrounding Deputy Pavilion Master Xiang Shou from all sides, determined to make him give an explanation.

Yet Xiang Shou remained unhurried. He slowly explained, "This man is not our Pavilion Master. If you don't believe me, look!"

As he spoke, Xiang Shou swept the long blade in his hand across Pavilion Master Yang's face on the ground.

A thin layer of facial skin was easily lifted away, revealing the face of a relatively young, gaunt man beneath.

The crowd immediately froze in stunned silence.

Even the instructors were taken aback. The same thought arose in all their minds without prior agreement.

Who is this guy?

At this moment, their attention began to focus on the man's unknown identity.

"I thought there was something off about this fellow long ago. Now he has finally shown his true colors."

Facing the stunned, doubtful, and baffled gazes around him, Xiang Shou explained everything one by one.

Meanwhile, inside a building within the stronghold—

Shen Xiu, who had concealed himself in the shadows and waited for the right moment to act, had witnessed everything outside from beginning to end. His eyes, too, were filled with surprise.

He had not expected there to be martial cultivators in the martial pavilion with such discerning eyes, who could even detect that there was something wrong with the Pavilion Master's identity.

That saved him some trouble.

With Wang Yuehu dead, Crimson Fire Stronghold was finished. From top to bottom, it had been slaughtered completely clean.

After that, Shen Xiu had no need to remain hidden. He left his hiding place without any concerns.

The moment his figure appeared and he had just stepped out the door—

The disciples present quickly noticed someone. The atmosphere throughout the area instantly quieted, sinking into fear, and the faces of the disciples could not help but turn cold.

The instructors, and even Deputy Pavilion Master Xiang Shou, wore slightly grave expressions when they saw the figure before them.

Everything—

Was simply because Shen Xiu's current appearance was too startling.

His hair and face were a mess, his true features impossible to make out.

Layer upon layer of blood-red stains covered his body. Without question, he looked as though he had crawled out from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

Even his aura was unlike before.

The surging killing intent around him was so dense it seemed almost tangible. Anyone who looked upon it shuddered, as if they had been targeted by an exceedingly ferocious beast.

Bloodshot with slaughter—that was likely what the phrase described.