Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

Chapter 398: Chapter 181: Tiger Monarch

In an instant, three people were dead.

The faces of the remaining four turned deathly pale. Though their encirclement was complete, they all forcefully retracted their attacks, not daring to advance another step.

"A... A Divine Treasure Powerhouse..."

Huang Jiao’s pupils contracted, her sword hand trembling.

The other three had also realized that the small old man across from them was a great master of the Divine Storage Realm—someone who could crush them all like ants.

"Run!"

It was unclear who shouted first, but the four of them turned almost simultaneously, fleeing for their lives in different directions.

However, after only a few steps, a young man beside Huang Jiao was struck. Something—it was unclear whether it was a Hidden Weapon or a simple stone—pierced through the back of his head.

It left only a small hole in the back of his skull, but the entire front of his face exploded in a spray of bloody mist. His body crumpled to the ground.

HISS—

Huang Jiao sucked in a sharp breath. She felt a distinct chill shoot up from her tailbone to the nape of her neck, making her scalp tingle. Her whole body trembled, and her legs froze, refusing to obey her commands.

The other two youths who had tried to flee felt the same chilling sensation run down their spines, their scalps tingling with fear.

Like Huang Jiao, they knew with chilling certainty that there was no escape.

The two men’s legs gave out, and they collapsed to their knees.

They scrambled to turn around on their knees and began kowtowing desperately, begging the old man for their lives.

They slammed their foreheads into the ground again and again, not daring to hold back. Within moments, the green stone paving beneath them began to crack.

Huang Jiao was horrified, utterly terrified. She had meant to kneel and beg as well, but her heart had skipped a beat, her reaction a fraction too slow.

By the time she came to her senses, the old man was already standing beside her.

Somehow, the Longsword that had been in her hand was now in his withered, dark one.

"Sp... Spare me... Senior, spare my life..."

Huang Jiao trembled violently, her legs giving way completely. With a THUD, she fell to her knees.

"A bunch of useless donkeys!"

Just then, a burly, bearded man wearing armor made of Exotic Beast Hide and carrying a seven-foot-long battle-axe strode in from the main gate, leading several dozen fierce bandits.

This man’s name was Jin Biao, the leader of the mountain stronghold.

"Don’t you fools have any brains? If we at Grass Vulture Mountain didn’t have a powerful patron watching our backs, how would we dare to rob the Zhang Family’s cargo?"

Jin Biao swaggered forward, but his demeanor instantly changed to one of fawning servility as he reached the old man, a sycophantic smile plastered on his face.

"Open your donkey eyes and look closely! This is Yan Chong, Lord Yan! A great master of the Divine Storage Realm! The three mountains and five strongholds around Zuojin are all under his protection! How dare you rabble cause trouble?"

"Lord Yan, spare us... Spare us..."

Huang Jiao and the other two youths pleaded for mercy again and again.

Elsewhere, they might be imposing Nine Blood Secret Martial Artists, radiating a powerful and domineering aura.

But before a Divine Storage Realm powerhouse, they were nothing more than ants to be crushed at will.

Anything beyond groveling for mercy was futile.

"Quiet."

The old man, Yan Chong, solemnly uttered a single word. It was not because he found them noisy; rather, his ears had twitched, and his gaze instantly swept toward the area outside the stronghold.

No one dared to be disrespectful. Everyone held their breath, their gazes following his.

At first, nothing happened.

But after a moment, the dozens of bandits blocking the gate suddenly acted as if they were being strangled. Their mouths gaped open as if to scream, but no sound came out.

Then, as if they had seen a ghost, they scattered, tumbling and crawling over each other as they scrambled to get back, quickly clearing a wide path.

Some knocked over braziers, others trampled on their comrades’ shoes, but no one dared to look back. They just scrambled to retreat, to get out of the way, as if molten lava were pouring down the path they had just cleared.

Another moment passed. Then, reflected in the bandits’ trembling eyes, was a sight that made their pupils shrink to pinpricks—

A great tiger, padding slowly forward.

Its striped fur shimmered with a glossy, golden light in the sun. The muscles of its shoulders and back rolled with every slow, deliberate step. Its paws landed silently, yet each footfall made the ground tremble faintly.

Its eyes were half-lidded, betraying no emotion, only a lofty indifference, as if the stronghold full of bandits and masters were nothing more than weeds by the roadside.

And sitting ramrod straight upon its back was a youth.

He wore light blue martial robes, immaculate and free of dust, and his back was as straight as a spear.

The sunlight slanted in from the mountain pass, casting a long shadow behind him and leaving his fair, clean-cut face half in light, half in shadow.

The bandits continued to retreat. Many were so weak in the knees they could no longer stand, collapsing to the ground and scrambling backward.

Jin Biao’s face changed dramatically. His eyes were wide, and cold sweat beaded on his temples.

Even the old man, Yan Chong, paled. He blinked repeatedly, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his lips moved as if carefully weighing his words, not daring to speak rashly.

In truth, it was not uncommon for Martial Artists to use ferocious beasts as mounts in the major Prefecture Cities. Nor were ordinary wild tigers a rarity in these sprawling mountains.

But the reason everyone, from Yan Chong and Jin Biao down to the lowest bandit, was so terrified was undoubtedly because this tiger was completely different from any they had ever seen.

It wasn’t that it was larger or its presence more imposing. It was that its identity was different.

Yan Chong and Jin Biao both recognized it. This was the Tiger Monarch, the mount of the Mountain and Sea Sect’s Sun Shashen.

Although within the Mountain and Sea Sect, Steward Sun’s status was only equivalent to that of an ordinary Inner Sect disciple.