Different paths

Zhao Qinghe's face was deathly pale. His spirit sword was clenched in the blue-robed youth's bare hand, and no matter how he channeled his spiritual power, he could not budge it an inch.

Only then did he truly realize how unfathomable the strength of this seemingly young fellow before him was.

This fellow... was no ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator!

"Senior Brother!"

"Fiend! Let go of our senior brother's sword!"

The surrounding disciples of the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect were both shocked and furious.

They had always held their eldest senior brother in the highest regard. Seeing him restrained, how could they possibly hold back? Amid several furious shouts, seven or eight streaks of sword light flashed at once, weaving a silver net that closed in on Si Chen from every direction!

For a moment, Sword Qi crisscrossed the air, and murderous intent chilled it to the bone.

Si Chen's brow furrowed slightly.

He had never intended to get entangled with these unrelated people. He only wanted to eliminate Zhang Quan, the root of the trouble.

But since they had attacked him of their own accord, with every move aimed at a vital spot, then, according to Third Uncle's teachings, this fell under the category of "trying to kill you."

In that case, I might as well deal with them all.

Just as he was about to act, he caught a figure out of the corner of his eye.

While the disciples of the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect surrounded and attacked him, a flicker of secret delight and malice flashed through Zhang Quan's eyes. He was quietly backing away, a faint bloody glow gathering at his fingertips. He was actually about to use that escape technique that burned his blood essence again!

Si Chen's thoughts raced like lightning.

If he let this man escape again, there was no telling whether he would bring another batch of people like Zhao Qinghe to "uphold justice." Then the trouble would be endless.

I absolutely cannot let him escape again.

His mind made up, Si Chen no longer hesitated.

He sharply swung the hand gripping the sword blade to one side, sending an immense, irresistible force through the sword.

Zhao Qinghe felt an unstoppable force surge toward him. His entire body was lifted off the ground and sent flying uncontrollably toward his fellow disciples, who were thrusting their swords forward.

"Senior Brother, watch out!"

"Pull back your swords!"

Seeing their eldest senior brother hurled toward them like a sandbag, the disciples were frightened out of their wits. They hurriedly pulled back their attacks, their sword light dissolving into chaos as they scrambled to catch Zhao Qinghe.

The scene instantly descended into disorder.

In that lightning-swift moment of chaos, Si Chen did not even look as he hurled the spirit sword he had just seized from Zhao Qinghe straight at Zhang Quan, who was about to flee!

Whoosh!

The spirit sword became a silver lightning bolt, giving off a shrill whistle as it tore through the air. Moving several times faster than when Zhao Qinghe had wielded it, it shot with unerring precision toward the fleeing Zhang Quan!

The delight had yet to fade from Zhang Quan's face when he felt a chill in his chest, and an enormous impact sent him flying backward.

Shlkk!

The blade pierced his body and pinned him firmly to the thick trunk of an ancient tree!

"Urgh..."

Zhang Quan let out a short, muffled groan of pain. He lowered his head to look at the sword hilt still trembling at his chest, his eyes filled with disbelieving despair.

His mouth opened as though he still wanted to say something. Perhaps a plea for mercy, perhaps a curse.

But Si Chen gave him no such chance.

Almost at the same instant he threw the sword, Si Chen followed it like a phantom, appearing before Zhang Quan where he was pinned to the tree. Without any unnecessary words or expression, he raised his hand, clenched his fist, and threw one simple punch.

A faint flash of lightning flickered over his fist and vanished.

Bang!

Zhang Quan's head burst apart in an instant, warm matter splattering everywhere. Only a headless corpse remained, pinned to the tree by the sword and swaying gently.

The world was finally quiet.

It had all happened too quickly. From throwing Zhao Qinghe aside, to hurling the sword, to finishing his enemy with a punch, Si Chen had taken no more than a single breath.

By the time the disciples of the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect had caught their eldest senior brother in a flurry of hands and steadied themselves, they looked up to see that gruesome, horrifying sight.

The air seemed to freeze.

The pretty youngest junior sister screamed on the spot, covering her eyes, unable to look again.

The other disciples turned pale as well, their stomachs churning like overturned rivers and seas.

They usually sparred and discussed the Dao. When had they ever witnessed such brutal, direct methods of killing?

Even an execution needed no more than a head falling to the ground, yet this youth acted even more ruthlessly than the demonic cultivators of rumor!

Outrage swept through them, but beneath it lay far more fear, all fierce looks and hollow courage. They shouted, yet their feet involuntarily retreated. Not one dared truly step forward.

"Demon! You... how dare you..." The square-faced disciple pointed at Si Chen, shocked and furious, but fear made his voice tremble.

"Junior Brother! Hold your tongue!" Zhao Qinghe abruptly barked, grabbing his impulsive junior brother.

His complexion was no better, and his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, but the righteous indignation in his eyes had vanished. Only deep wariness and lingering fear remained.

He had seen it clearly. His cultivation was the highest among everyone present, yet he was still no match. If this man chose to kill them, his fellow disciples would likely face disaster.

What would provoking him now be, if not courting death?

Besides, Zhang Quan's behavior before his death had indeed been unlike that of someone on the righteous path...

Doubts crowded his mind. In secret, he had already crushed a Communication Jade Talisman to call for help, alerting the sect's elders.

The situation was now beyond his control. He had to notify the sect's powerful cultivators and have them come to their rescue.

With Zhang Quan dealt with, Si Chen felt that his surroundings had finally quieted down.

Then Si Chen turned and walked toward Zhao Qinghe and the others.

Specks of the blood that had splashed onto him still stained his clothes. The disciples of the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect braced as though facing a formidable enemy, involuntarily retreating several steps.

However, Si Chen stopped a few steps away.

He looked thoughtfully at the group, who had ceased attacking since Zhang Quan's death.

Out of respect for life, he felt he ought to make one final confirmation.

Thus, under Zhao Qinghe and the others' startled, uncertain gazes, Si Chen cupped his hands and bowed slightly in accordance with proper etiquette.

Then he raised his eyes and asked earnestly:

"Everyone, do you still intend to be my enemies?"

His tone was calm, without the slightest trace of killing intent. But paired with the thunderous speed with which he had just killed, those words sounded more chilling to Zhao Qinghe and the others than any threat.

This was no question. It was clearly a final ultimatum!

If they chose to be his enemies, the headless corpse beneath that tree would be their example!

Zhao Qinghe's throat went a little dry. Taking a deep breath, he forcibly suppressed his fear and returned the cupped-hand salute, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible rasp.

"Fellow Daoist... your abilities are astonishing. We were rash earlier and failed to judge the situation correctly, leading us to misunderstand you. This... this was purely a misunderstanding. We have no intention of being your enemies."

He practically spoke through gritted teeth. His pride as the eldest senior brother of the Flowing Cloud Sword Sect made this profoundly humiliating, but to protect his junior brothers and sisters, he had to bow his head.

Si Chen nodded. Since the other party said they had "no intention of being his enemies," then everything was settled.

"Very good, then," he said.

His gaze fell on the bloodstained spirit sword still embedded in the tree, and he remembered that it belonged to someone else.

So he walked over, gripped the hilt, and pulled gently, drawing the sword from the corpse without so much as glancing at the headless body.

Then a faint arc of electricity flickered at his fingertips, and he lightly swept them along the blade.

Bzzzt.

The electric current instantly scoured away all the blood on the blade, leaving it as good as new, even brighter and sharper than before.

Sword in hand, he walked back to Zhao Qinghe and offered it to him.

"Your sword," Si Chen said.

Zhao Qinghe looked at the spotless spirit sword held out before him, then at Si Chen's eyes, which now held no trace of killing intent. His emotions were tangled beyond measure.

He silently accepted the sword.

"Thank you... Fellow Daoist," he said hoarsely.

Si Chen said nothing more. He had dealt with the trouble and returned what he had taken. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing left to do here.

He turned and rose on the wind.

"Fellow Daoist, please wait!" Seeing that he was about to leave, Zhao Qinghe grew anxious and could not help calling out.

The elder had yet to arrive. If this man left now, finding him again in the boundless sea of people would be difficult.

Si Chen stopped and looked back at him, a trace of inquiry in his eyes.

Zhao Qinghe's thoughts raced. He had to find a reason to keep him here.

"Fellow Daoist, you are so young, yet your cultivation is so... astonishing. May I ask who your master is, and your esteemed name? Perhaps you have some connection to our Flowing Cloud Sword Sect. If you would not mind, you could return to the sect with us as our guest. Allow us to offer a little hospitality and resolve today's misunderstanding."

His words were beautifully phrased, probing Si Chen's background while extending an invitation, all sounding perfectly reasonable.

Si Chen looked at him, his clear eyes seeming capable of seeing straight through a person's heart.

He sensed none of the other man's "sincerity." Instead, he caught a hint of hidden urgency and calculation.

He recalled Zhang Quan's earlier performance, then looked again at Zhao Qinghe, who was striving to maintain his composure.

Humans, it seemed, always liked to say things they did not mean.

He lost interest in conversation and merely replied coolly:

"No need. I dislike trouble, and I dislike... people who bring trouble even more."

Before his words had faded, his figure became a streak of blue light, tearing through the air and vanishing beyond the horizon in an instant.