If they were here to test Bone Talent and recruit disciples, there would never be such killing intent.
Having spent half his life crawling through piles of corpses, he was all too familiar with this scent. They were definitely here to silence everyone.
But this was just a mortal village. How could it have brought upon itself the disaster of total annihilation?
Suddenly, a memory flashed through his mind of Shen Huai'an, the dear friend Su Yueli had mentioned years ago, who possessed a Heavenly Bone and had been accepted into the Blue Moon Sect.
For such a genius to truly cultivate the Great Dao, certain unsightly attachments had to be severed.
“Severing mortal ties...”
Lu Chen's expression turned grim. In his youth, during his travels, he had indeed heard of such methods—cultivators wiping out a genius's mortal acquaintances just to preserve their state of mind.
He just never expected that the butcher's blade would hang over this remote mountain village today, hanging over his disciple's head.
Meanwhile, inside the mountain village.
The two cultivators looked at the villagers kowtowing frantically on the ground, deep disgust filling their eyes.
The green-robed cultivator spoke coldly, “Who in this village is Su Yueli?”
The villagers exchanged bewildered glances.
“The Immortal Master... is looking for Yueli?”
“Why is he looking for her? Could it be they realized they missed her Bone Talent back then, and want to take her to the heavens to become an immortal?”
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
The white-robed cultivator frowned, clearly losing his patience.
With a flick of his finger, an invisible strand of sword qi severed a man's thigh.
“Ah—!” The man shrieked as he collapsed, blood instantly staining the muddy ground red.
“Noisy. Speak another word of nonsense, and you will shut up forever,” the white-robed cultivator said, his gaze freezing cold.
Only then did the villagers realize something was terribly wrong. These were not welcome guests.
Fear spread rapidly. Hiding behind the crowd, Er Shizi watched the scene, his legs turning to jelly.
He was still thinking about Su Yueli, but he knew that if they angered the immortals, everyone would die.
“Im... Immortal Master!”
Summoning his courage, Er Shizi stammered, “Yueli isn't in the village! Twenty years ago, she went to the back mountain to practice martial arts with Martial Artist Lu. She came down a couple of days ago to pick up a letter, but she's probably back on the mountain by now!”
“On the mountain?”
The green-robed cultivator snorted coldly and looked toward the nearby peaks. “Let's go.”
Two streaks of light shot into the sky, heading straight for the depths of the mountains.
Watching the immortals depart, the villagers collapsed to the ground, drenched in cold sweat, feeling as if they had just taken a stroll past the gates of hell.
Black Wind Ridge, Cliff Terrace.
The streaks of light touched down, revealing two robe-wearing cultivators.
With his back hunched, Lu Chen leaned against a shattered boulder, seemingly waiting for the two of them.
“A mere mortal, yet you have quite a stubborn grip on life.”
The green-robed cultivator swept a glance over Lu Chen. Sensing the withered blood qi inside him, he didn't even have the desire to draw his sword.
“Old man, where is your disciple, Su Yueli? Hand her over, and we will leave your corpse intact.”
Lu Chen raised his cloudy eyes and suddenly chuckled.
“Immortal Masters, to travel thousands of miles to this wretched mountain gully just to kill a mortal with no Bone Talent for the sake of a Dao foundation... you have truly worked hard.”
The moment these words left his mouth, the expressions of both cultivators shifted drastically. Their flying swords instantly unsheathed, pointing directly at Lu Chen's throat.
“How do you know?!” The white-robed cultivator's killing intent surged.
Ignoring the sword blade pressed against his throat, Lu Chen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Though this old man is about to die, my brain isn't useless yet. What else could make two Foundation Establishment cultivators do such dirty work, other than severing the mortal ties of a one-in-a-million genius?”
Lu Chen leaned against the rock, his tone calm, yet every word cut straight to the bone.
“Gentlemen, are you absolutely certain that once you kill her... your genius will truly not blame you at all when he exits seclusion in the future?”
The sword blades halted.
The two cultivators exchanged a glance, a trace of apprehension flickering in their eyes.
Lu Chen knew he had won the first step of this psychological warfare.
He understood these low-level cultivators who served as dogs for their superiors all too well.
“Since the order was given to root them out completely, that genius is naturally kept in the dark for now. But if one day his cultivation reaches greatness, and he remembers his old acquaintances and uncovers the truth...”
Lu Chen stared at the two, a mocking sneer gracing his lips.
“When that time comes, the person who gave the order holds a high position and will be perfectly fine. But as for you two, the executors who took the blame for the sect... how do you think a genius with a Supreme Heavenly Bone will deal with you? Will he grind your bones to ashes?”
Cold sweat rolled down the green-robed cultivator's forehead.
The cultivation world had a strict hierarchy. They had seen this kind of settling scores after the fact and scapegoating subordinates far too many times.
“You mortal, you certainly know how to drive a wedge between us.”
The white-robed cultivator grit his teeth, though his hand holding the sword was clearly trembling. “If we don't kill her, returning to the sect now is a capital offense!”
“There is a solution.”
Lu Chen let out a long sigh. “What you want is merely for his mortal ties to be severed. As long as that person believes she is dead, or can never find her again, your mission is accomplished.”
“I will bear this karma for you. I will take this blame.”
The two cultivators froze. “What do you mean?”
Lu Chen turned around and looked down at the village below.
“I am a martial artist who suffered cultivation deviation and went mad, slaughtering the entire village. You can return and report that by the time you arrived, the village had already been reduced to ashes by me, and Su Yueli died by my hand. Dead men tell no tales.”
Lu Chen turned his head, looking at the two lofty immortals with a complex expression.
“As for my disciple, spare her life. She is a mortal without Bone Talent. The lifespan of us mortals is barely a hundred years, and she is already halfway through her life, prone to illness and old age at any moment. A dying person will not affect your sect's genius for very long.”
“As for the karmic retribution, I am her master. After slaughtering the village, I will commit suicide on the spot. The karma between master and disciple will end here completely.”
The wind seemed to stop. The two cultivators stared at the old man, who was at the end of his rope.
They weighed the pros and cons.
If they killed her, the Young Sect Master might take his anger out on them in the future.
If they didn't, they could let this old man slaughter the village and take the blame, leaving no evidence. They could report back to the elder, and even if the Young Sect Master investigated in the future, this mad martial artist would be the scapegoat.
Besides, a mortal's life was nothing more than a single period of secluded cultivation to a cultivator; it was of no great consequence.
No matter how they calculated it, this was a highly profitable deal.
“Very well.”
The white-robed cultivator sheathed his flying sword, his gaze indifferent. “If you dare play any tricks, not even an ant will survive within a hundred miles of here.”
Lu Chen nodded. He walked down the mountain path step by step, his expression growing increasingly ruthless.
Only when he reached the foot of the mountain did he stop. Looking at the distant village with cooking smoke rising from it, his heart throbbed with sharp pain.
Twenty years ago, when he was gravely injured and on the verge of death, it was the old village chief who had carried him back, and it was this village that had taken him in.
Throughout his life, Lu Chen had acted with honor and integrity, never killing an innocent soul.
But today, he had no choice.
His disciple had no Bone Talent, yet she possessed a strange condition that even cultivators feared.
For the past twenty years, Su Yueli had not aged, remaining eternally young. Lu Chen did not know what it was.
But he knew that Su Yueli was highly likely the only person in this world who could break the lifespan limit of the Tenth Realm of martial arts and reach the very end of the martial path.
As long as she lived, martial arts would not be a dead end.
“I am sorry...”
Lu Chen closed his eyes, swallowing the metallic taste of blood in his throat.
When he opened them again, he was no longer the kindly master, but the warrior who had once slaughtered his way through enemy lines amidst piles of corpses.
“Boom!”
Forcing his withered blood qi to circulate, Lu Chen turned into an afterimage and crashed into the village entrance.
The slaughter was pure, unadulterated destruction.
The first to die were several men at the village entrance. Before they could even see who it was, their throat bones were crushed by a single fist.
Blood splattered across the dirt walls.
“Murder!”
“Run! The old man has gone mad!”
Terrified screams tore through the quiet afternoon.
Lu Chen did not pause. For a Second Realm martial artist, dealing with these mortals was as easy as crushing ants on the ground.
With one punch, he caved in a villager's chest.
With one kick, he shattered the spine of a fleeing farmwoman.
He could not hear the pleas for mercy, nor the cries of the children. Having forcibly blocked his own hearing, he moved through the village like an emotionless killing machine, weaving back and forth.
Severed limbs and broken bodies lay everywhere, and blood flowed like water.
The two cultivators hovered in mid-air, coldly watching this spectacle of a mortal slaughtering fellow mortals, mocking sneers playing on their lips.
“Uncle Lu... why?”
Beside a stack of firewood, Er Shizi was half-buried under a collapsed dirt wall. Blood welled from his mouth as he stared at Lu Chen, who had stopped before him.
He could not understand.
Twenty years ago, his father had personally handed Lu Chen a bowl of water.
Why had this good man, who taught Yueli how to box, turned into a god of death?
Looking at Er Shizi, Lu Chen's hand could not help but tremble slightly. But he could not stop. Two pairs of eyes were still watching from above. If he showed even a shred of mercy, Su Yueli would be hunted down and ground to ashes.
“In your next life, reincarnate as a cultivator.”
Lu Chen's voice was hoarse as he brought his foot down, snapping Er Shizi's neck.
Crack... The final crisp snap echoed through the village.
All one hundred and thirty-four households in the village, along with their livestock, were wiped out. Not a single soul was left alive.
The thick stench of blood rose to the heavens, dyeing half the sky red.
Standing amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, Lu Chen was completely drenched in gore, looking like a malevolent spirit crawled out of hell.
He raised his head and looked at the two cultivators in mid-air.
“This karma, this old man shall bear it.”
With that, Lu Chen took a deep breath and raised his trembling right hand.
He channeled all his remaining blood qi into his palm and slammed it down onto the crown of his own head.
With a dull crack of fracturing bone, Lu Chen's body swayed before he fell backward into the pool of blood, his eyes wide open in death.
Even in death, those cloudy eyes remained fixed in the direction of Fengling City.
Disciple... live on. Go and see... what lies at the very end of the martial path...
The wind picked up, quickly dispersing the scent of blood.
In mid-air, the green-robed cultivator sneered, “At least this old dog knew his place. Let's go. Now that the flies are all dead, we can return and report.”
Two streaks of light sliced through the sky and vanished into the clouds, leaving behind only scattered flesh on the ground.
And... a martial artist who, to protect his disciple, bore the infamy of slaughtering a village and died in sin.
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