Chapter 566 - 562: Coming Up Empty
Chapter 566: Chapter 562: Coming Up Empty
"Attack."
Gu Changqing’s gaze fell upon the cluster of buildings. He remained silent for several breaths before slowly speaking.
His voice wasn’t loud, yet it reached everyone’s ears clearly.
The next moment, over a hundred figures shot forward at once.
Gu Changqing walked at the forefront. His pace seemed unhurried, yet with every step, his figure drifted several yards away.
Lei Lie and Shen Mo followed him, one to his left and one to his right. The three formed a vanguard, like an invisible blade aimed straight for the heart of the Tiejiang Gang headquarters.
Behind them followed over a hundred experts from the Seven Sects.
The experts from the Vajra Temple were shrouded in a faint golden light, wielding Demon-Slaying Pestles, Precept Sabers, and monk’s staves. Their steps were as steady as a mountain.
The experts from the Overlord Blade Sect drew their blades. The massive, broad-bladed sabers glinted coldly in the sunlight, their Sword Intent soaring to the heavens.
The experts from the Lingyun Sword Sect unsheathed their longswords. Sword light flashed like bolts of silk, and Sword Qi sliced through the air, tearing it to shreds.
The experts from Tingyu Building moved like phantoms, their figures flickering as they weaved silently between the buildings. Wherever they passed, the Tiejiang Gang’s hidden sentries fell one by one without a sound.
The experts from Baihua Valley flicked their fair hands, and petals flew from their sleeves. The petals seemed fragile, but they were as sharp as blades, spinning as they sank into the bodies of Tiejiang Gang disciples, raising clouds of blood mist.
The experts from the Netherworld Pavilion, dressed in black like ink, wielded Short Blades that glinted with a faint blue light. Their attacks were ruthless, every strike a killing blow.
The experts from the Qingxuan Sect used their various skills—blades, swords, palms, and fists. The roar of exploding Qi Force was relentless.
Before this terrifying force, the defensive lines of the Tiejiang Gang headquarters were torn apart as if made of paper.
A Tiejiang Gang Steward had just charged out of a room when he was flanked by two experts from the Vajra Temple. A Demon-Slaying Pestle smashed into his chest, shattering his ribs and sending him flying backward, spitting blood.
Three Tiejiang Gang disciples stood back-to-back, attempting to form a defensive formation. But with a single slash, an expert from the Overlord Blade Sect cut all three—men and blades alike—into six pieces.
A Tiejiang Gang Elder shot out from deep within the compound. The oppressive might of his Upper Three Grades Cultivation erupted as he thrust out both palms. A pitch-black Palm Seal, carrying a sinister, chilling wind, flew straight toward an expert from the Vajra Temple.
But an expert from the Qingxuan Sect was faster than his palm strike.
A long saber left its sheath in a flash of light.
The Tiejiang Gang Elder didn’t even see the blade coming. He only felt a sudden chill at his waist. Looking down, he saw his body had been severed in two.
Blood and entrails spilled across the ground. His upper body slammed down hard, his hands still crawling forward in a futile effort before, after several breaths, he finally went still.
In a matter of moments, the outer defensive lines of the Tiejiang Gang headquarters were completely shattered.
The experts of the Seven Sects poured in like a tide, surrounding the Tiejiang Gang headquarters.
However, when they charged into the deepest parts of the headquarters, they were met with nothing but empty halls and secret chambers.
No one was there.
Grandmaster Yan Wuji wasn’t there. Most of the Tiejiang Gang’s First-Grade Elders and Second-Grade Elders were also gone.
The entire headquarters held only some mid- and low-level Stewards and disciples, along with a few Elders of low Cultivation.
"We missed them."
A muscle twitched on Lei Lie’s rugged face.
He turned, his gaze sweeping over the ruined compound. His voice was low.
"That old bastard Yan Wuji must have heard we were coming and fled."
Shen Mo said nothing. He simply stood in the center of the main hall with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping over the empty seats.
In his placid eyes, which were as still as an ancient well, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Gu Changqing’s brow furrowed deeply. ’A worry began to stir in his heart.’
...
The night was black as ink. Moonlight was smothered by a thick layer of clouds, leaving the world shrouded in darkness.
The majestic silhouette of Qingxuan Mountain was barely visible in the night. The scattered lights from the mountain halls looked like fireflies adrift in the darkness.
At the mountain gate, the disciples on duty leaned against the pillars, chatting idly in low voices.
"Did you hear? The Tiejiang Gang is actually a Sect that was secretly practicing Demon Skills."
"Of course. I can’t believe the Tiejiang Gang managed to hide it so well."
"I thought it was strange when the Tiejiang Gang produced a Grandmaster. A power outside the Seven Sects producing a Grandmaster... I never imagined it was because they were relying on a Demon Skill..."
"How despicable! To think they were practicing such an evil Cultivation Technique!"
"With the Seven Sects working together, the Tiejiang Gang is sure to be annihilated."
As they spoke, they failed to notice a dark golden figure silently approaching through the night.
It moved with astonishing speed, leaving only a distorted afterimage in the air.
They had no time to react before a chill touched their throats, and their consciousness plunged into eternal darkness.
Five figures collapsed without a sound.
The dark golden figure came to a stop before the steps, hands clasped behind his back. Moonlight filtered through a break in the clouds, illuminating a coarse, ancient face.
It was none other than Yan Wuji.
Behind him, dozens of black-clad figures emerged from the night, gathering silently at his back.
They were all elite members of the Tiejiang Gang.
Dozens of men, yet not one spoke. The only sound was the faint rustle of their robes in the night wind.
Yan Wuji raised his head, his gaze passing over the mountain gate to the brightly lit palace halls at the summit.
A cold glint flashed in his murky, yet profound, eyes.
"Qingxuan Sect..."
He spoke in a low, aged voice, flat yet carrying an irrepressible hatred.
"If you Qingxuan Sect hadn’t meddled in our affairs, my Tiejiang Gang would never have fallen to this."
He paused, his voice growing even lower.
"Today, I will see to it that the Qingxuan Sect is wiped from the face of Qingyang County."
He had already received intelligence that Gu Changqing, the Grandmaster of the Qingxuan Sect, was not present.
"Move out."
he said, his voice aged and flat.
As his voice fell, he took the first step, heading up the bluestone stairs toward the summit.
His pace was unhurried, yet with every step, his figure drifted several yards away.
Behind him, dozens of black-clad figures followed in single file.
The faint sound of robes cutting through the wind and the dull thud of boots on the bluestone steps echoed through the silent mountain forest.
The ancient trees flanking the mountain path rustled in the night wind. The moonlight cast the jagged, intersecting shadows of their branches onto the bluestone steps, making them look like countless baring fangs and brandishing claws.
The group moved extremely fast. In a matter of moments, they had passed through the mountain gate and were heading up the bluestone path toward the mountainside.
’Gu Changqing, you destroyed my Tiejiang Gang, so I will annihilate your Qingxuan Sect.’
Yan Wuji’s gaze swept across the silent halls and pavilions on either side, a cold smirk touching the corner of his lips.
’Even though I only brought a few dozen men, with a Grandmaster like me present, it’s more than enough to annihilate the Qingxuan Sect.’
However, his steps came to a sudden halt when he reached a relatively open plaza halfway up the mountain.
Ahead, lights suddenly blazed to life.
Over a hundred figures appeared in the light.
The Martial Monks of the Vajra Temple held Precept Sabers and Demon-Slaying Pestles. Their gray robes fluttered in the night wind, and a faint golden light flowed around their bodies.
The Martial Artists of the Overlord Blade Sect angled their massive, broad-bladed sabers toward the ground, the blades glinting coldly in the light.
The Martial Artists of the Lingyun Sword Sect had their longswords drawn, their Sword Qi soaring to the heavens and tearing the surrounding air to shreds.
The Martial Artists of Tingyu Building remained hidden in the shadows, the Short Blades at their waists glimmering with a faint blue light, their killing intent restrained.
The Martial Artists of Baihua Valley flicked their fair hands, and petals flew from their sleeves. They spun and danced in the light, appearing fragile but as sharp as blades.
The Martial Artists of the Netherworld Pavilion held Short Blades that glinted with a cold light, their killing intent palpable.
The Martial Artists of the Qingxuan Sect held their weapons, their gazes serene.
And in the center of the plaza, two figures stood with their hands clasped behind their backs.
The one on the left wore a golden kasaya. His face was benevolent, his eyebrows drooped, and his eyes were half-closed as he slowly thumbed a string of prayer beads.
It was the Grandmaster of the Vajra Temple, Hui Ming.
The one on the right was a woman who appeared to be in her thirties. She wore a long, pale pink dress, her face was stunning, and her features were as perfect as a painting. In her hand, she held a small flower condensed from Gang Qi, which she was idly toying with.
It was the Grandmaster of Baihua Valley, Liu Meiniang.
Two Grandmasters and over a hundred experts from the Seven Sects.
The lights in the plaza illuminated the area as brightly as day, and they also illuminated Yan Wuji’s suddenly frozen expression.
His footsteps halted at the edge of the plaza.
Behind him, Han Kui and the others also stopped in their tracks.
Dozens of gazes fell upon the hundred-plus figures in the plaza. In that instant, the faces of the Tiejiang Gang members turned grim.
"A trap."
Han Kui rasped out the two words, his voice hoarse and filled with irrepressible terror.
Yan Wuji said nothing.
His gaze passed over the hundred-plus figures in the plaza and landed on Hui Ming and Liu Meiniang. A cold glint flashed in his murky eyes.
"Hui Ming. Liu Meiniang."
He spoke, his voice still aged and flat, yet it carried an irrepressible chill.
"How did you know I would come?"
The movement of the prayer beads in Hui Ming’s hand paused. His half-closed eyes opened a sliver, revealing a clear and profound light.
"Donor Yan, if you had learned of our plans and evacuated in advance,"
his voice was placid, carrying the characteristic calm of a monk.
"the most likely course of action would be to retaliate against the Qingxuan Sect, the ones who discovered the Tiejiang Gang was practicing a Demon Skill."
Liu Meiniang flicked the small flower of condensed Gang Qi in her hand. Its petals scattered, transforming into motes of light that dissipated into the night.
She raised her eyes, a flash of coldness passing through their shimmering depths.
"So, the Seven Sects made a second preparation: we set an ambush here at the Qingxuan Sect and waited for you to walk right into our trap."
Yan Wuji fell silent.
He stood at the edge of the plaza, hands clasped behind his back. His gray robes remained perfectly still in the night wind. His coarse, ancient face was unreadable, but the chill in his murky eyes grew ever colder.
"A good scheme."
He said slowly, his voice flat but carrying an irrepressible rage.
Hui Ming pressed his palms together and softly chanted a Buddhist mantra.
"Donor Yan, you have harmed countless people with your Demon Skill. It is an offense against heaven itself. Today is the day you will face justice."
Before his voice had even faded, he moved.
His golden kasaya whipped in the night wind. He moved like a golden streak of light, instantly crossing several dozen yards to appear before Yan Wuji.
He raised his right hand and thrust out his palm.
There were no fancy Transformations to this palm strike—it was just a simple attack.
But the moment he struck, heaven and earth seemed to freeze for an instant.
A brilliant golden light flared in his palm. A tangible, golden Palm Seal shot through the air, carrying the power to shatter mountains and shake peaks as it flew straight for Yan Wuji’s chest.
At almost the same instant, Liu Meiniang also moved.
She moved like a pink streak of light, lunging from the other side.
Her longsword slid silently from its sheath. The blade was a pale pink, shimmering with a soft luster in the light.
She thrust her sword, the light from its blade as fine as silk as it stabbed silently toward Yan Wuji’s ribs.
The two Grandmasters, one from the left and one from the right, attacked simultaneously.