Chapter 591 - 587: Identity Exposed
Chapter 591: Chapter 587: Identity Exposed
Before long, Fang Han put down his bowl and chopsticks and gave Luo Yuntian and the Steward a meaningful look.
The two understood and also set down their bowls and chopsticks.
The three of them stood up and walked unhurriedly toward the stairs. They went up to the second floor, and each returned to their own room.
Lei Zheng’s gaze swept over the backs of the three as they went upstairs, then he looked away, paying them no mind.
He picked up the wine pot and poured himself a cup.
As a First-Grade Martial Artist, as long as he didn’t want to get drunk, no amount of alcohol could inebriate him, so he had no need to worry about it.
「The next morning, at the crack of dawn.」
Fang Han pushed open his door and stepped out, just in time to see Luo Yuntian also emerging from his room.
Their eyes met, and they nodded slightly to each other.
A short while later, the Qingxuan Sect Steward was also packed and ready. The three of them went downstairs together.
After checking out of their rooms, they went to the rear courtyard.
The White Tiger stood there, full of vigor. Seeing the three arrive, it let out a low snort, two plumes of white mist puffing from its nostrils.
They had the inn’s staff buy plenty of meat to feed it the previous night, so it hadn’t gone hungry.
The Steward leaped onto the tiger’s back. Fang Han and Luo Yuntian followed, settling down inside the carriage.
"Giddy-up!"
The Steward gently flicked the reins, and the White Tiger set off, heading toward the city gate along the same road they had taken to arrive.
And just as the White Tiger’s silhouette rounded a street corner, Lei Zheng and his two companions happened to walk out of the inn’s entrance.
The young disciple stretched, mumbling complaints about not sleeping well the previous night.
"Hmm?"
But Lei Zheng suddenly stopped in his tracks.
His gaze fell upon the white figure that had just disappeared around the corner.
It was a White Tiger.
It was pure white, nearly ten feet tall at the shoulder and over thirty feet in length, with a carriage on its back.
’A White Tiger Demon?’
Lei Zheng’s brows furrowed sharply.
He remembered very clearly that the Qingxuan Sect’s Sect Leader’s mount was an extremely rare White Tiger Demon.
According to rumor, that White Tiger was a First-Grade Demon, captured and tamed by Chen Tianyuan in his early years and used as a mount ever since.
White Tiger Demons were rare. He didn’t believe it was a mere coincidence that another power had also captured and tamed one.
’People from the Qingxuan Sect?!’
A cold glint flashed in Lei Zheng’s eyes. His sharp, hawk-like gaze was fixed on the street corner where the White Tiger had vanished.
"Elder?"
The young disciple asked tentatively, noticing the strange look on Lei Zheng’s face.
Lei Zheng didn’t answer immediately. He slowly withdrew his gaze, his brows tightly knitted.
He quickly ran through his mental files on the Qingxuan Sect’s First-Grade Martial Artists—Chen Tianyuan, Chen Wanjun... He had an impression of all of them.
And among the three from just now, none of them were such figures.
"Interesting."
A cold smirk touched the corners of Lei Zheng’s mouth.
"It seems they’re disciples on their way to the Imperial Capital for the Martial Arts Assembly."
Hearing Lei Zheng’s words, the young disciple asked uncertainly:
"Elder Lei, are they from the Qingxuan Sect?"
"And there are no First-Grade Martial Artists with them for protection."
Lei Zheng’s voice was extremely low and tinged with a raspy quality.
His right hand, hidden in his sleeve, clenched slightly, his knuckles letting out a faint CRACK.
During the expedition to the Ancient Ruins, the Thunderlight Pavilion had lost a First-Grade Elder and several Celestial Pride disciples. The Thunderlight Pavilion had not forgotten this debt.
Now, encountering this group from the Qingxuan Sect was a godsent opportunity for revenge.
"Elder, should we follow them?"
The middle-aged man who looked like a steward also heard Lei Zheng and lowered his voice, a vicious glint in his eyes.
Lei Zheng didn’t reply at once. He just stared in the direction the White Tiger had disappeared, his gaze growing ever deeper.
"No rush. We’ll wait until they’ve left the city."
He paused, his voice as cold as a poisoned blade:
"Today is the perfect time to collect what the Qingxuan Sect owes our Thunderlight Pavilion, with interest."
The White Tiger Demon left the city gates and galloped north along the official road.
Inside the carriage, Luo Yuntian sat across from Fang Han, holding the yellowed Sword Manual, but he wasn’t reading it.
He looked up at Fang Han, a hint of relief in his voice.
"I didn’t expect to run into people from the Thunderlight Pavilion."
"Celestial Wind County is on the main route to the Imperial Capital. It’s not surprising to encounter people from the Thunderlight Pavilion here."
Fang Han’s tone was calm.
The Qingxuan Sect Steward, sitting at the front of the carriage, turned around and wiped the beads of sweat from his temple, his voice filled with relief:
"Good thing we were in plain clothes. That Lei Zheng probably didn’t recognize us. Otherwise, we never would have gotten away so easily."
Luo Yuntian nodded slightly and was about to reply—
But Fang Han’s expression suddenly changed.
"They’re coming after us."
Those four short words were like a bucket of cold water dumped over their heads.
Luo Yuntian’s fingers, holding the Sword Manual, tightened abruptly. The look of relief on his face froze instantly.
The Steward’s face paled several shades. He whipped his head around to look at the empty road behind them.
For the moment, there was no sign of any pursuers.
"True Inheritor Fang, are you sure...?"
"They’re following us along the official road at high speed. They’re still a few miles away."
Fang Han’s voice was steady, yet carried an undeniable certainty. With his Mastery of the Tracking Technique, it was impossible for his senses to be wrong.
The air inside the carriage froze at that moment.
Luo Yuntian put down the Sword Manual, his right hand already resting on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.
The Steward gritted his teeth, turned back, and shouted:
"Hya!"
With a sharp flick of the reins, the White Tiger let out a low roar, its four paws digging into the ground as its speed suddenly surged.
The carriage jolted violently as it shot forward. The scenery outside the windows blurred into streaks of color, and the wind howled in their ears.
They hoped to shake off their pursuers.
But it ended in failure.
Soon, the sound of urgent wolf howls faintly drifted from behind them.
His expression changing drastically, Luo Yuntian lifted a corner of the carriage curtain and looked back.
At the far end of the official road, a black silhouette was in hot pursuit, like an arrow released from a bowstring.
It was a massive, silver-grey wolf, two full sizes larger than a typical steed. Its four paws flew across the ground at an astonishing speed.
A figure stood tall on the great wolf’s back, a deep blue robe fluttering behind him in the wind. The silver lightning pattern on his cuffs was clearly visible—it was Lei Zheng.
"They really did follow us."
Luo Yuntian dropped the curtain, his voice low.
The Qingxuan Sect Steward frantically urged the White Tiger on, letting out a series of short, sharp cries.
But while the White Tiger was fast, its endurance was clearly no match for the Demon Wolf, which was renowned for its speed and stamina.
The distance between them was closing, bit by bit.
Three miles.
Two miles.
One mile.
Half a mile.
Closer and closer.
"WHOOSH—"
A sharp whistling sound cut through the air as a jet of blue Gang Qi shot from behind, striking the road in front of the White Tiger.
The Qingxuan Sect Steward hastily pulled on the reins. The White Tiger dug its claws into the earth, desperately gripping the ground until it finally skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding the blue Gang Qi.
Lei Zheng’s voice came from behind them, raspy and cold:
"Why are you running? Do you have something to hide?"
Lei Zheng urged his wolf forward.
The silver-grey wolf trotted to a stop over a hundred feet in front of the White Tiger. Lei Zheng vaulted off its back and stood in the middle of the road with his hands behind his back.
His hawk-like eyes were now coldly fixed on the carriage atop the White Tiger Demon.
The young disciple and the steward accompanying him were also on the great wolf’s back, their gazes filled with undisguised mockery.
The Qingxuan Sect Steward took a deep breath, suppressing the terror in his heart. He cupped his fists toward Lei Zheng and did his best to keep his voice steady:
"Senior, may I ask why you have blocked our path?"
He paused, then added,
"We are disciples of the Lingyun Sword Sect, under orders to travel to the Imperial Capital. If we have caused any offense, we hope Senior will be magnanimous."
Hearing this, a cold smirk slowly spread across Lei Zheng’s lips.
"The Lingyun Sword Sect?"
He slowly repeated the four words, the mockery in his smile growing ever thicker.
"Disciples of the Lingyun Sword Sect riding the White Tiger mount of the Qingxuan Sect Leader—now that’s a novelty."
At these words, the Qingxuan Sect Steward’s face instantly turned deathly pale.
Lei Zheng stood with his hands behind his back. His gaze passed over the Qingxuan Sect Steward and fell on the carriage curtain. His voice was flat, yet held an air of certainty.
"The mount of the Qingxuan Sect’s Sect Leader, Chen Tianyuan, is a White Tiger."
He paused, the chill in his sharp eyes intensifying.
"If you truly are from the Lingyun Sword Sect, then where did this White Tiger come from? Don’t tell me Chen Tianyuan lent it to you?"
Silence filled the carriage.
"As for these two, they must be the Qingxuan Sect’s Celestial Pride True Inheritors, Fang Han and Luo Yuntian, right?"
Lei Zheng’s gaze fell upon Fang Han and Luo Yuntian as they stepped out of the carriage, his voice like a cat toying with a mouse.
"The only ones who could receive an invitation to the Imperial Capital’s Martial Arts Assembly and get to ride Chen Tianyuan’s White Tiger must be those two."
He let out a soft sigh, but there wasn’t a trace of regret in it—only an irrepressible glee.
"During the expedition to the Ancient Ruins, the Qingxuan Sect caused my Thunderlight Pavilion to suffer grievous losses. A First-Grade Elder and several Celestial Pride disciples, all lost at your hands. I have not forgotten that debt."
He took a step forward. Deep blue Inner Qi condensed on the surface of his fist, emitting a faint SIZZLE, like lightning crackling in the air.
"Today, I will kill the three of you and let the Qingxuan Sect have a taste of what it’s like to lose its prized prodigies."
"If you must blame someone, blame the Qingxuan Sect for not valuing you enough to even send a single First-Grade Martial Artist to protect you."
Before his voice had even faded, he threw a punch through the air!
A condensed blue Fist Gang shot from his fist, expanding in the air until it became a Fist Seal the size of a water vat. Wreathed in blinding arcs of electricity and carrying a Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum, it blasted straight toward the carriage!
As the Fist Gang passed, the air shrieked and tore, and a shallow furrow was plowed into the ground.
Atop the tiger’s back, Fang Han’s right hand closed around the hilt of his sword—
"SHING!"
The Cloud Splitting Sword was unsheathed.
A clear sword hum, like a dragon’s cry, overwhelmed the shriek of the Fist Gang and exploded across the empty road.
A flash of sword light.
The moment the seemingly solid blue Fist Gang touched the sword light, it was as if it had struck an invisible blade, silently splitting down the middle into two halves!
The sundered Fist Gang flew off to the sides, slamming into the ridges of the fields bordering the road and kicking up two clouds of dirt and shattered rock.
Yet the sword light, its momentum barely diminished, continued straight for Lei Zheng’s face.
"What?"
Lei Zheng’s pupils contracted violently.
He had never imagined that his ranged punch, powerful enough to severely injure an ordinary First-Grade Martial Artist, would be so effortlessly cleaved apart by a single sword strike.
Although the oncoming sword light had weakened somewhat, it still carried a sharpness that made his scalp tingle.
He threw himself backward in a desperate attempt to dodge, but he wasn’t able to evade it completely.
A sword mark slashed diagonally from the collar to the left rib of his deep blue Elder Robe. Even his Soft Armor had been pierced. If the attack had been just a little stronger, it would have disemboweled him.
He snapped his head up to look at the young man on the White Tiger’s back, his coarse features filled with shock and uncertainty.