Chapter 117: Slaying Old Wang

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“Face the thunder head-on, you old bastard!” Ling Chi roared.

His breathing technique surged into motion, and in an instant, the sky was filled with thunder serpents.

“I, Wang Li, have dominated the Northwestern Circuit for years. How could I possibly fear a mere youngster like you?”

The old man surnamed Wang let out a furious roar, sword aura erupting from his entire body.

Ling Chi had no interest in what he called himself. Blade light and thunder poured forth together as he charged straight in.

He gripped the saber with both hands, bent his waist like a drawn bow, and launched himself into the air.

[Great Cleaving Breaker]

The saber’s tip split the air. Its tremendous speed generated scorching heat, turning the blade a brilliant red.

“Clang!”

The shock wave produced when saber and sword collided instantly destroyed half the dock.

Second Master He, He Lin, had just been hauled from the river. He had swallowed who knew how much water, his belly swollen high like that of a woman nine months pregnant. He promptly fell back into the river.

Saber light and sword aura crisscrossed ever more densely, tearing the buildings within a hundred yards into a field of ruins.

A-Zheng could only continue driving away the onlookers with his fellow guards. The townspeople seemed to have absolute faith in Ling Chi, standing at a distance and excitedly discussing the battle.

[Nine Palaces Wandering Dragon]

Ling Chi’s figure shifted ceaselessly around Wang Li. Saber light and thunder formed an unbreakable cage, trapping him within.

Those outside could sense only the terror radiating from the storm of blades and swords. By then, both Ling Chi and Wang Li were already covered in wounds.

Wang Li’s ninth-stage Qi Sea cultivation was actually being faintly suppressed by Ling Chi. His sword aura was like a ferocious tiger trapped in a cage, lunging left and right but unable to break free.

“Break!”

Wang Li’s roar sounded like the bellow of an old dog with a hoarse throat. Wisps of sword aura burst from his body, forming blade-like shadows that shot toward Ling Chi.

Ling Chi neither dodged nor evaded, relying on his immortal body to withstand the sword shadows.

His right hand clenched the saber hilt while thunder lashed forth from his left like a whip, and saber light streamed from his right like a shining ribbon. His assault was as fierce as a tiger.

Wang Li desperately urged the sword aura within his Qi Sea spirit crystal to resist the thunder and the saber light.

The faster Ling Chi fought, the more ferocious his battle spirit became.

Poor Wang Li, despite his advanced age, was driven into one perilous situation after another by the fearless youth before him. Several times, he narrowly avoided having his vital points cleaved. Even so, more than a dozen deep saber wounds were carved into his body.

[Hmph] [Ha]

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Ling Chi seized his opportunity. The twin energies he had been brewing for so long, Hmph and Ha, suddenly struck. Ripples spread through the air as two tiny dragons of thunderous mist shot forward like lightning.

“Boom!”

The two exploding waves of force sent Wang Li staggering. His head felt as though it had been struck by a hammer, and his feet stumbled beneath him.

Before he could react, Ling Chi’s saber light had already arrived.

Wang Li forced himself to twist his sword around and block. The instant saber met sword, Ling Chi rotated his blade and struck the spine of Wang Li’s weapon. The sword rebounded and slammed into Wang Li’s chest.

“Pfft!”

Wang Li could no longer hold on. He staggered backward several steps, vomiting a great mouthful of blood into the air.

Ling Chi planted his left foot forward and his right foot behind him, leaned back, and drove his right leg straight out.

“Bang!”

A huge footprint was stamped into Wang Li’s chest. His breastbone collapsed inward several inches.

Blood continued to spurt from his mouth. Ling Chi closed in, and in the space of a breath, his horse-cutting saber unleashed dozens of streaks of light, carving deep, bone-visible gashes across Wang Li’s body.

Wang Li finally collapsed. With a muffled groan, he dropped to his knees.

The Evil-Exterminating saber swept horizontally through him. His head flew into the sky. More than a thousand wisps of thunder spirit energy flowed back into Ling Chi, while the Five Ghosts of Slaughter had accumulated over ten thousand wisps of thunder spirit energy. Only this final push had been missing.

Endless spiritual energy from heaven and earth converged. His cultivation immediately broke through to the eighth stage of the Qi Sea realm.

The number of Extreme Yang Crystals and Thunder Crystals within his body increased to more than a thousand. They formed two vast, dragon-like torrents—one violet-gold and one crimson-red—that slowly revolved around the central Thunder Pearl.

The thunder filling the sky was absorbed back into the Thunder Crystals within his body, and at last everyone could see the scene at the center of the battlefield.

A headless corpse lay collapsed on its knees, its back facing the sky, while a human head continued rolling across the ruins nearby.

Lord Ling had executed him by beheading!

Any martial artist with even a little experience felt a chill in his heart, as though an enormous hand had seized it.

This had been a ninth-stage Qi Sea martial artist, someone not far from reaching the Spirit Pearl realm. Yet he had been beheaded and executed by their Town Commandant.

The Anshan Bandits had just hauled their young master, He Lin, from the river once more when they happened to see the head of Wang, their side’s strongest fighter, soar into the air. Chaos immediately erupted. They had no time to worry about He Lin and began fleeing in every direction.

But how could Ling Chi grant them their wish? With the saber in his grasp, he plunged into the ranks of the Anshan Bandits. His saber light swept in broad, powerful arcs, cutting through them until men and horses alike were sent tumbling. Severed limbs and broken bodies flew through the air without end.

Within only a few breaths, the Anshan Bandits and He Lin were all dead.

“The lives of mongrels like you are worthless in my eyes. I wouldn’t give you even three copper coins.”

Ling Chi gazed coldly at the corpses scattered across the ground.

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Another seven or eight hundred wisps of thunder spirit energy flowed back into him. These brigands, who made their living through robbery and plunder, were utterly undeserving of sympathy.

Looking around at the ruins that now surrounded him, Ling Chi casually summoned A-Zheng and had him search the corpses.

In full view of the public, Ling Chi obviously could not do such a thing himself. It might damage his reputation and diminish his imposing image.

“Lord Ling, these men were carrying several chests of gold coins, probably numbering twenty or thirty thousand, along with banknotes worth more than ten thousand gold coins.”

A-Zheng handed Ling Chi a thick stack of banknotes, reporting with undisguised admiration. The powerful enemy against whom they had been helpless had been beheaded by the young man after a fierce battle.

“Set aside three thousand in cash to repair the dock. Give Wang Five-Six a little as well, but not too much. He won’t be able to keep it safe.”

“Divide the rest among yourselves. Send whatever remains to my room.”

Ling Chi accepted the banknotes without acknowledging A-Zheng’s worshipful gaze and issued his instructions as he walked away.

The crowd suddenly fell silent and automatically parted, opening a path for Ling Chi. In the end, they could only watch as he gradually disappeared into the distance.

Ling Chi returned to his temporary residence at the Pacification Office and quietly meditated, regulating his breathing while familiarizing himself with his new realm. That matter can be left aside for now.

++++++++++++++++++++

In the Wei family’s ancestral home in Yu County, white silk mourning banners fluttered in the cold winter wind above the memorial hall.

The low chanting of the monks mingled with the ringing blows and notes of the bronze instruments, lending the entire hall an atmosphere of solemnity. At the very center, the memorial tablet of the deceased appeared and vanished indistinctly amid the smoke of the incense and candles.

Wei Xuan knelt in the memorial hall, staring blankly at the floor before her. From time to time, reminded by her maid, she would redden her eyes and return the greetings of relatives who came to offer condolences.

Wei Jiang was also nearby receiving the arriving guests. The pain of losing a son in his old age had left him looking increasingly haggard.

A bald flag officer dressed in the embroidered uniform of the Pacification Office covered his face and hurried toward him. Wei Jiang did not recognize the man, and assumed he was a trusted subordinate brought by the newly appointed commandant.

“Old Master Wei, please accept my condolences. I serve under Lord Fu of the Pacification Office. There is something important I must discuss with you.”

The slap mark on the bald man’s face had not yet faded. Covering it, he glanced furtively from side to side and spoke in a hushed voice.

Seeing how secretive he was acting, Wei Jiang did not press him for details. He simply led him to a side room nearby.

Once he saw that no one else was present, the bald man revealed his purpose.

“Old Master, our commandant received word from your servant, Li Gang, that a young man had taken a treasure from your household—one stored in a box made of nanmu wood. The commandant immediately led us to intercept and kill him, but unfortunately, we failed.”

Wei Jiang’s hand, which had been stroking his beard, abruptly stopped. His eyes filled with disbelief. He had never imagined that an outsider had planted a spy within his household.

“That young man said something had gone wrong with your family’s people. He demands that you bring him a head within three days to atone for your offense. Otherwise, he will come and take one himself.”

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