Chapter 71: The Sunward Sect

As soon as Ling Chi spat out a curse, his figure transformed into a flash of lightning and struck the burly man, swinging his blade with lethal intent. Today, this bastard must die—even if Cao Hu Bao himself came, he couldn’t save him.

The moment Zhao Qing heard the threat against his daughter, his eyes turned scarlet; his blade’s force sharpened, and, upon hearing his disciple’s words, he pressed the attack toward the old man.

“Boss, hold the line! All agents of the Jing’an Bureau, show yourselves! Not a single member of the Fengli Escort Agency leaves alive today!” Zhao Qing was ruthless, determined to leave no enemy standing.

A chorus of grunts and shouts echoed. Before their reinforcements could arrive, Ling Chi seized the moment, sowing chaos with two shouted syllables. Under his voice, minions fell in droves, and those dueling him were left dazed.

Ling Chi, cloaked in thunder, seemed the very incarnation of the God of Lightning; his righteous fury surged amid crackling bolts, sweeping across the crowd. The burly man, possessing cultivation at the fifth or sixth level of the Qi Sea, posed no threat to Ling Chi.

The burly man wielded a copper hammer with such force it seemed even the air might shatter. Ling Chi’s blade struck again and again, each blow landing at the same spot, his immense power numbing the burly man’s arms. The man’s protective aura dispersed; teeth clenched, he struggled to endure.

They had underestimated the young man’s ferocity. Chu Xiong’s warnings had been dismissed as excuses for losing the cargo—now, the truth was laid bare.

Zhao Qing and the old man, equal in cultivation, clashed fiercely—blade against sword.

Xiao Zhan faced off against another Qi Sea–level guard, locked in a test of strength.

A crack resounded—the burly man’s hammer handle was severed. Ling Chi pressed his advantage, his blade flashing ever faster, each strike aimed at a vital spot.

Unable to defend, the burly man fled toward the crowd. Ling Chi pursued relentlessly and, seeing his quarry dive into the midst of the escort agency’s men, rejoiced and followed suit.

Ling Chi’s blade danced around him, its touch fatal; the minions, unable to avoid, fell with agonized cries, limbs and blood scattered across the ground.

“Chief, hold your ground! Don’t come our way—we can’t hold him off!” the minions pleaded, urging the burly man not to run toward them, terrified.

Ling Chi pressed after his guide, slaughtering as he went. The chief could not escape—Ling Chi closed in using his thunderous speed.

A flash of silver cut through the air; blood gushed from the chief’s back, lightning pouring into his body and forcing him to cough blood.

Ling Chi showed no mercy, battering the fallen enemy. The chief, battered and overwhelmed, shifted desperately, but Ling Chi found his opening, leapt high, and with a dragon’s fury, cleaved from neck to thigh, splitting the chief in two. The chief died instantly.

Ignoring the thunder energy returned by the Thunder Pearl, Ling Chi pressed on, blade in hand, cutting through the crowd like a butcher among children; heads flew, limbs rained down, and carnage reigned.

The old man caught sight of this massacre, his eyes nearly bursting with rage.

“What a ruthless thief! I’ll have you torn into a thousand pieces!” The old man’s lament was so desperate, one might think he was the true victim.

Ling Chi paid him no heed—empty threats meant nothing in a world ruled by violence.

He was different; he preferred destruction to words.

“Old fool, you dare lose focus?”

Zhao Qing’s blade surged forward, opening fresh wounds on the old man’s body.

Ling Chi finished the slaughter, picked up a severed head, and, without pause, dragged his blade toward Xiao Zhan’s battlefield.

Xiao Zhan’s opponent was a Qi Sea second level cultivator, a notch above him.

“Idiot, your chief has arrived!”

A large head spun through the air, blood spraying as it flew toward the opponent.

Seeing the severed head flying his way, the man hurriedly dodged.

In a flash, Ling Chi’s blade appeared behind him.

“Kneel!”

The blade swept a semicircle of silver light, slicing from shoulder into chest. The man died instantly.

Ling Chi looked around—only the old man remained.

“You stubborn old fool, you’re the last one left.”

Ling Chi and Xiao Zhan circled from behind, while Zhao Qing led the assault.

The old man, his mind in turmoil, had failed to save his son and now his own life was forfeit.

Distracted, his sword faltered, wounds multiplied, and his robes were drenched in blood.

Zhao Qing seized the opportunity, condensed his blade’s force, and after several slashes, unleashed a gust of blade and wind, severing the old man’s head.

The white-haired head soared skyward, marking the end of the sudden battle.

The three master and disciples exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

Ling Chi released his extreme Yang energy, reducing the corpses around to ashes.

A pity he hadn’t received the old man’s energy in return—otherwise, he would be closer to reaching the fourth level of the Qi Sea.

To reach the fourth level, one needed to condense spiritual liquid; only by refining the Qi Sea into a liquid state, heavy as mercury, up to the sixth level, was the cultivation considered complete.

“Sixth Brother, your skill at erasing corpses is unmatched,” Xiao Zhan praised with a smile.

“It’s nothing, just a little trick,” Ling Chi replied cheerfully, offering no further explanation.

“Master, what should we do about the escort agency headquarters in the prefecture?” Ling Chi asked Zhao Qing.

“I’ll send a letter to Captain Cao—let them take over. We’ll take half of the spoils from searching the place, and the agency’s backers are theirs to handle,” Zhao Qing considered, then answered.

It was a sound plan; Ling Chi nodded in agreement.

“Sixth Brother’s killing power grows ever stronger. In less than half a year, you’ll surpass me,” Zhao Qing sighed.

“Your disciple is still far behind, Master. Are you close to breaking through to the Spirit Pearl realm?”

“Not yet. I’m only at the eighth Qi Sea level. Do you think I break through as easily as you eat and drink?” Zhao Qing shot Ling Chi a glance, feeling the young man was teasing him.

“It’ll come soon enough, you’ll reach Spirit Pearl next year,” Ling Chi said.

“I hope your words come true. When I break through, I’ll bring your grandmaster here, though I don’t know if he’s alive or dead,” Zhao Qing’s tone grew heavy; even if his father was gone, he would bring his bones and spirit tablet for worship.

Grandmaster was his father; the master’s master was the great master.

“Master, what cultivation do our enemies have? I’d like to prepare accordingly,” Ling Chi asked bluntly, unwilling to continue with vague hints.

“I’ve been hiding in this northwest border for a long time and haven’t heard news of our enemies, but they must at least be at the second or third level of Spirit Pearl,” Zhao Qing replied, his tone somber, face dark as a deep pool, the triumph of battle gone.

“Don’t worry too much, Master. If they haven’t found us all these years, they likely don’t know we’re here,” Ling Chi reassured him.

“My wife and I had an engagement from childhood and were deeply in love. Yet the vile sect leader of Shaoyang Sect forced his way between us, and when threats failed, he brought his sect’s experts and stormed our home at night, trying to steal her away.

Your grandmaster and grandmother fought desperately to let us escape; I don’t know if they survived. Your great master’s family died on the spot—only Xiao Zhan and Xiao Yu survived, and we brought them to Crane County to settle.

All these years, I’ve quietly searched for news of your grandmaster and grandmother, but found nothing useful.

One day, I’ll wash Shaoyang Sect in blood and avenge this deep hatred.”

“Master, with our unity, we will surely avenge our family,” Ling Chi said earnestly.

“Yes, Master, together we will,” Xiao Zhan echoed, his eyes reddened at the memory of his past.

Ling Chi patted his shoulder, nodding in solidarity.

“When I break through to Spirit Pearl, I’ll seek the truth at last.”