Wuhua's death

More troublesome?

These words stirred the curiosity of everyone present, for the young sect leader of Mount Hua seemed to have achieved a sweeping victory with his scheme.

Even the Beggar Gang, which had been ruthlessly trapped, would have to remember the favor he had done them.

Southern Shaolin, meanwhile, would have to remember the debt they owed him all the more deeply because of Wuhua's notebook.

His partner, the An Prince's Mansion, had reaped handsome benefits and taken the opportunity to wipe out an old debt of gratitude to Southern Shaolin.

The other factions that had spoken up for Fang Yunhua and given him ample support had all torn off a piece of the Beggar Gang's flesh to fill their bellies, to one degree or another.

What formidable enemy did Fang Yunhua still have to face, then?

Chu Liuxiang, the quickest thinker among those present, had already realized the answer.

"Wuhua and Nangong Ling's mother!"

"Surely you don't think Li Qi, who nearly slaughtered Mount Hua into extinction, would quietly retire after taking her revenge? Just look at her two sons, and you can guess that she's the most restless of them all."

Fang Yunhua brushed two fingers along the Skyward Sword. As he poured his Mingyu Skill's internal energy into it, a chilling cold radiated through the surrounding air.

Wuhua's gaze turned vicious.

"You know who she is?"

"Not only do I know, but I believe they'll all guess soon enough. After all, there are only a handful of powerful women in the world. Aside from the one in the Divine Water Palace, there's only one other who could make me this wary."

"Stone Guanyin!" Chu Liuxiang blurted out.

At that name, everyone present looked at Wuhua with even graver expressions.

Shangguan Cangxing rubbed his chin, recalling Fang Yunhua's earlier remark about having another golden idea. From the looks of it, Stone Guanyin was almost certainly the target of his next scheme.

With this first successful collaboration behind them, the An Prince's Mansion would surely provide ample assistance as well-provided, of course, that there was something to gain.

The thought stirred his excitement.

After all, as a martial artist, he had at least some appetite for battle in his blood.

"Is she really as strong as the rumors say?"

After Shangguan Cangxing posed that question, the others fell silent. Only Wuhua kept sneering, and it was he who answered.

"I admit that Uncle Tian Nan, you, and Elder Dai are indeed formidable. But I guarantee that even if all three of you joined forces against her, she would kill every last one of you!"

"She's your mother. Of course you're going to brag about her for all you're worth."

Shangguan Cangxing curled his lip. His irreverent disposition piqued Chu Liuxiang's curiosity about this unfamiliar martial expert.

Shangguan Cangxing, however, had no desire to engage with a troublesome fellow like Chu Liuxiang. He turned his gaze to Fang Yunhua instead. Naturally, those who understood Stone Guanyin best were her opponents or enemies, and he trusted Fang Yunhua to give an objective assessment.

Fang Yunhua said nothing and merely nodded.

That meant Wuhua's rosy view of his mother was not simply empty boasting, which only deepened Shangguan Cangxing's interest.

He said nothing more, nor did he let slip that Fang Yunhua might soon seek out Stone Guanyin to settle their accounts. He simply stepped back a few paces and drew a finger across his throat at Wuhua, who had looked so defiant a moment earlier.

The corner of Wuhua's right eyebrow twitched, and then all his attention fixed on Fang Yunhua.

He knew perfectly well that death was now inevitable.

All he could do was drag Fang Yunhua down with him!

Although he considered Stone Guanyin invincible, falling victim to Fang Yunhua's scheme-especially hearing those bizarre predictions from Chu Liuxiang-had left him with a persistent sense of foreboding.

Having gathered his thoughts, Wuhua held a blade in a reverse grip in his left hand and a long saber in a forward grip in his right. His left hand hung below his waist, while his right raised the saber level with his brows, its edge facing outward, as though he might slash down at any moment!

Yet his body remained as motionless as a stone statue. His uncanny gaze fixed on Fang Yunhua, and together, his gaze and the gleam of his blade enveloped him completely.

At that moment, the wind rose.

Skyward Sword in hand, Fang Yunhua slowly advanced on Wuhua. He could feel his opponent's killing intent growing heavier, those hawklike eyes waiting for him to reveal a fatal opening!

Yet the moment Fang Yunhua moved, his entire body seemed to expose vital points where a single strike could kill him!

Wuhua was not deceived. With a fierce shout, he slashed the long saber in his hand downward!

He was certain he had calculated every possible response Fang Yunhua could make, certain that Fang Yunhua had nowhere left to retreat and no way to evade!

This was a killing stroke, and Tianfeng Jushiro's signature technique-One Slash Against the Wind!

Clang!

The blade flashed down, only for the crisp ring of clashing metal to sound in the same instant!

Fang Yunhua did not retreat. A seemingly casual diagonal parry was all it took to block the strike.

How could a saber technique that needed to strike against the wind to unleash its full power break through a sword form already woven into the wind itself?

Between life and death lay great terror, but also great breakthroughs. At that moment, Wuhua's One Slash Against the Wind finally helped Fang Yunhua step into the realm of controlling sword intent.

The wind surged ever more fiercely. Striking and withdrawing in a single motion, the Skyward Sword blended perfectly into it, its flashing forms growing ever more ethereal and dreamlike!

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Wuhua had believed his unfailingly effective One Slash Against the Wind would let him seize the initiative and suppress his opponent. Instead, he was forced to parry sword flashes suddenly slashing at him from every direction, retreating in increasing disarray, back and back and back again!

The spectators were already shaken. They all knew this supreme technique of Mount Hua.

Yet in anyone else's hands, its power fell far short of what Fang Yunhua displayed!

These were truly the Thirteen Forms of the Clear Wind, freed from the constraints of prescribed moves!

And these were also Thirteen Forms of the Clear Wind that belonged to Fang Yunhua alone, forms only he could wield!

For the sword moves concealed within the raging wind carried a chill that made Wuhua feel frozen from head to toe. Every clash of saber and sword released a force that seemed to congeal his blood and stiffen his meridians, and it kept seeping into his body!

Although Fang Yunhua's Mingyu Skill had only reached the fourth level, it was, after all, one of the four great divine skills of Gu Long's martial world. Its icy nature could crush most enemies with matchless force!

The quality of its internal energy was so high that Wuhua could scarcely expel or resist it during the battle.

At that moment, Fang Yunhua realized he had underestimated himself and overestimated Wuhua. With a casual flick of his sword, he knocked away the long saber that Wuhua's stiffened fingers could no longer hold tightly, then began mercilessly carving bloody wounds across his opponent's body!

Wuhua's counterattacks grew ever more chaotic and frantic!

Shaolin Divine Fist, Deft Finger Skill, Wind Duckweed Palm, Death-Binding Technique...

Fierce, piercing, or treacherously shifting techniques poured from Wuhua's hands, yet none could win back even the slightest advantage.

He did everything he could to withstand Fang Yunhua's tempest of attacks. At the same time, as his strength rapidly drained away, he felt the profound despair of his life plunging toward the bottom of an abyss.

Even the one advantage he took pride in-his movement skill, which far surpassed Fang Yunhua's-was rendered useless by the cold force freezing his entire body!

A still fiercer gust tore open the corner of his eye in an instant!

In a daze, Wuhua faced the sword flash thrusting straight toward his throat. This time, he did not force the last scraps of strength in his body into another attempt to dodge.

Shhk!

The sword flash pierced straight through his throat. Blood streamed out, staining his moon-white monk's robes, already smeared with dust, a vivid red.

Fang Yunhua sheathed his sword and walked up to Wuhua, who still clung to a final breath and wore a mocking smile.

"I know you can't even get your last words out now. I can also guess what you're probably trying to say."

The mockery in Wuhua's eyes deepened. He struggled to move his lips, and Chu Liuxiang, leaning closer from beside him, could make out the words: "I haven't lost yet."

"Do you mean your final arrangements in Shaanxi, Shanxi, and Henan? Inciting most of the factions rooted in those three regions to unite in an alliance against Mount Hua, which they would regard as their greatest threat?"

Smiling, Fang Yunhua watched the emotions in Wuhua's eyes shift rapidly from mockery to disbelief, then bewilderment, despair, and finally a trace of curiosity that yearned for an answer.

Clinging to that last breath, Wuhua did receive Fang Yunhua's answer.

"Die with your regrets."