Chapter 50: Awakening of Insects

Chapter 50: The Awakening of Insects

Under the cover of night, Zhao Changhe fled toward the back mountain at a frantic pace, with Fang Buping pressing hard upon his heels.

Killing the traitor had brought a momentary thrill, but now that Fang Buping had arrived, whether he could escape with his life under such pursuit was the true challenge.

In the moonlight, Fang Buping’s expression was twisted with ferocity, yet it held a trace of cruel delight: "Zhao Changhe! Slaughtering a brother of the cult, defying our sacred laws, where else do you think you can run! Hand over your life!"

Fang Buping was genuinely elated.

Originally, Zhao Changhe’s status as a formal disciple was highly troublesome, and with the Holy Maiden backing him from the shadows, Fang Buping truly hadn't dared to act rashly; no matter how much he wanted to kill Zhao Changhe, he could only use his authority to bully him, forcing the boy to swallow his grievances.

Yet he never expected Zhao Changhe to be so utterly short-tempered, exposing a fatal flaw after just a few minor provocations.

Wang Dashan was certainly no brother of the cult—strictly speaking, Zhao Changhe had merely killed a fortress bandit, no different from when he killed Zhang Quan back then, which hardly fell under the jurisdiction of cult laws. But in these matters, it all depended on who was speaking. Back then, Instructor Sun said the dead man was a useless piece of trash, so they buried him and that was that. Now, as the Helmsman, if he claimed the deceased was a cult brother, he could simply fabricate a registry later, and what defense could the boy possibly offer?

It was an absolute, pleasant surprise.

He knew Zhao Changhe had just broken through the third tier of the Mystic Pass. Such potential was indeed somewhat terrifying; to be frank, he couldn't fathom how a mere mortal could break through the third tier after only four months of martial cultivation. Everyone practiced the Blood Fiend Technique, so who was he trying to fool? Even if Zhao Changhe had secretly trained in internal arts to assist his cultivation, this was simply absurd.

The more it was so, the more he had to be killed. Their animosity ran deep, so why wait for him to grow?

Was a fresh breakthrough to the third tier so remarkable? The boy hadn't even had the time to properly cultivate and polish his skills at this level, and he might not even be able to exert a fraction of a third-tier's true power. Meanwhile, he, Fang Buping, had been refining his strength at the fourth tier of the Mystic Pass for many years. If nothing else, could this greenhorn even compare to his twenty years of jianghu bloodshed, combat experience, and comprehension of the blade?

Did he think he was Yue Hongling, capable of fighting Sect Master Xue at such a tender age?

Even Yue Hongling had practiced martial arts since childhood, training for over a decade!

"Zhao Changhe, you also utilize the Flying Blood Without Trace. How could you possibly outrun this master? Return with me peacefully to face judgment, hahahaha..."

"You talk too much trash. Did you become a Helmsman just because your farts sound loud?"

"...Once I capture you, I will make you beg for life and crave for death!"

The sound of robes tearing through the air drew closer along the path. Zhao Changhe sprinted ahead, his countenance exceptionally calm.

They shared the same lightness skill, Flying Blood Without Trace, but Fang Buping possessed higher cultivation, and his speed was clearly superior. Running blindly would surely lead to death. However, he had never intended to run, but to fight; fleeing the fortress was merely to avoid being surrounded, leading Fang Buping to the back mountain.

Yue Hongling had seen right through him: "You must have a very clear objective." Indeed, that objective was Fang Buping. From the very beginning, Zhao Changhe had measured his own progress by whether or not he could fight Fang Buping.

Vice-Helmsman Huang had only taken power temporarily after the elites withdrew, but Fang Buping was different. From the start, he was the Helmsman who commanded elites like Instructor Sun to hold down a region—a regional governor of a notorious demonic cult, even if he might rank near the bottom. This was the hardest and most perilous battle since his transmigration.

For instance, Fang Buping's foundational technique might not be the Blood Fiend Technique; it could be combined with superior techniques from the cult, perhaps even containing a portion of the Blood God Technique.

Furthermore, Flying Blood Without Trace was a lightness skill that required internal energy to activate. Judging from the fact that Fang Buping also used this skill, it was clear he possessed internal strength and was not merely a man who trained in external arts.

Both internal and external cultivation! The fourth tier of the Mystic Pass!

And he possessed a refined blade technique and rich experience.

Could he cross a tier to defeat such a man?

"Whoosh!" The whistle of a blade resounded, its bone-chilling sharpness felt from afar, causing Zhao Changhe’s back to tighten involuntarily.

He was catching up so fast!

Zhao Changhe suddenly spun around and slashed, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, accurately striking the side of Fang Buping's descending blade.

With the strike delivered, he did not exhaust his force. He tapped his foot lightly, using the counterforce to leap diagonally, traversing several chang in the blink of an eye.

Fang Buping couldn't help but admire the boy’s rock-solid fundamentals. His blade, hands, legs, and body coordinated seamlessly; his positioning was precise, his application of force meticulous. His blade technique could truly be praised as having entered the realm of mastery. Moreover, he knew not where this ability to discern position through sound came from, for the boy knew exactly where the blade was striking without even looking.

Regrettably, for a fresh breakthrough of the third tier, a gap in raw strength remained a gap.

"Are your hands trembling already?" Fang Buping pursued once more, smiling with great amusement. "Why flee? Why not trade a few proper rounds, and let this master see how many surprises you can bring me?"

Zhao Changhe’s hands were indeed trembling slightly, but instead of the panic and flight Fang Buping imagined, his mind grew far more settled.

There was no feeling of unshakeable resistance, like hacking into a wall, nor did Fang Buping's blade possess any unexpectedly brilliant follow-up momentum. It was merely a difference in pure power! This meant the fight was winnable!

He remained silent, continuing his rapid leap, suddenly springing across a patch of bushes ahead.

Fang Buping leaped over the bushes with a pleasant smile: "I know the traps in your fortress like the back of my hand. Did you think you could turn the tables with this? Hahaha... Are you feeling despair?"

With that leap, the long blade in his hand suddenly began to glow with a crimson hue, overflowing with malignant aura, appearing exceptionally ferocious beneath the moonlight.

Gods and Buddhas Disperse!

Zhao Changhe could feel the blood-fiend aura within his own body being thoroughly suppressed by his opponent, even feeling it drawn and churned. His backward-facing vision yielded a slight reverse effect at this moment; seeing that ferocious, blood-red fiendish aura struck his heart, actually producing a trace of genuine terror.

Yet the sensation lasted only an instant. How could Zhao Changhe be frightened by such terror? He turned back and delivered another strike.

"Clang!"

The violent clash of steel echoed through the night. Zhao Changhe spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and flew backward through the air. Mid-flight, his hand caught a vine dangling in the air, and he kicked hard against a nearby tree trunk, using the momentum to swing smoothly toward the water pool in a single, fluid motion.

Fang Buping also staggered a step, the astonishment in his heart deepening.

How could Zhao Changhe find the weakest point of this technique's force, as if he had countered it a thousand times before? This shouldn't be possible... Even if he had learned it, it made no sense. He couldn't possibly possess the experience to consciously perceive the weaknesses of his own moves. That was simply too unnatural...

The thought flashed by. Seeing Zhao Changhe swing away on the vine, he caught another vine and swung himself forward.

Yet while Zhao Changhe had suffered no mishap, the moment Fang Buping pulled, his hand suddenly felt hollow as the vine snapped abruptly.

Simultaneously, as if a mechanism had been tripped, sharpened wooden spears flew from all directions.

Leaving the traitor to relay information—was it not precisely for this moment? To make Fang Buping believe he understood the situation here perfectly, when in reality, Wang Dashan knew absolutely nothing of the things Zhao Changhe had secretly arranged!

But even while suspended in mid-air with nowhere to draw leverage, Fang Buping danced his long blade like swirling pear blossoms, deflecting every single incoming wooden spear in an instant. They failed to pose even a shred of threat; he was truly an experienced master of his region.

Behind a tree by the pool, Zhao Changhe had already drawn his bow and notched an arrow at some unknown point, the murderous intent in his eyes almost tangible.

With a resounding twang, the bowstring snapped like thunder, and the arrow flew like a meteor.

Over there, Fang Buping had just dealt with the threat of the trap. It was the exact moment his mind relaxed when the sound of the bowstring rang out, and the gleam of the arrow reached his face.

Where did he get a bow? He clearly wasn't carrying one on his person!

As the thought flashed, Fang Buping roared furiously, his blade swiftly parrying the side of the arrowhead.

The arrow qi, doubly enhanced by internal energy converted into blood-fiend aura, erupted in a spiral. The terrifying blood-fiend aura surged into his meridians, causing the blood and qi within Fang Buping's body to churn violently. He couldn't help but take a step back to neutralize this powerful impact, though the arrowhead was ultimately deflected by his strike.

Before Fang Buping could catch his breath, a flash of bloody light erupted before his eyes.

The blood blade slashed across the heavens. Beneath the moonlight, the figure leaping over the pool resembled a heavenly demon descending from the sky.

Gods and Buddhas Disperse!

This wave after wave of offensive was truly like a surging great river, unstoppable!

"Clang!" Fang Buping swung his blade in a hurried block, the earth-shattering clash of their weapons loud enough to be heard even in the distant fortress.

Old force had just spent, and new force had yet to rise. Zhao Changhe had stored his momentum for a long time, waiting precisely for this moment.

As one waned and the other waxed, this strike truly met on equal terms.

Blood seeped from the corners of both men's mouths simultaneously; their arms bulged, and their eyes were as crimson as beasts.

"To think you could actually fight me to such an extent. Remarkable..." Locked in a stalemate, Fang Buping ultimately possessed more residual strength, and he spoke slowly: "But it ends her—"

Before his words could finish, a blanket of white filled his vision.

A packet of lime exploded across his face, with quite a bit entering his mouth. A piercing pain struck his eyes, rendering him completely blind.

Motherfucker, he had thought this was a man of unyielding, heroic valor, yet in this most intense, wild, and exhilarating clash that stirred a warrior's soul, the boy had suddenly thrown lime!

Before Fang Buping could even curse, a faint coolness suddenly touched his throat.

The moonlight was silent.

Fang Buping was covered head to toe in lime, blood seeping from his throat, as he slowly toppled backward and fell with a thud, signaling the end of this chase.

He likely never imagined, even in death, that his pursuit would end this way.

Zhao Changhe, utterly weakened, stumbled back a few steps, drove his blade into the ground, knelt on one knee, and gasped for air.

This arrow and this slash had been long in the planning, draining every ounce of his strength and exhausting all his potential; if he couldn't finish the fight in one stroke, he was as good as dead.

A demon sect branch leader was indeed no ordinary opponent—truly formidable. Out in the martial world, there were countless heroes, and challenging those above one's level was no longer as simple as he had once imagined.

As for the lime?

The heavens follow their own course, not existing for a sage like Yao nor perishing for a tyrant like Jie.

Even the Book of Chaos acknowledges this, doesn't it?

Zhao Changhe took a deep breath, forced himself to stand, sheathed his blade, and strode down the mountain.

"Second Brother, hurry! Faster!" the girl urged anxiously, pulling her brother along as they flew through the air. "He hasn't even broken through the third level of the Mystic Gate, and Fang Buping has been honing himself at the fourth level for years—he can't win!"

"I told you to abandon the mission! Who allowed you to sneak a night raid?"

"Don't talk about that now! I'll let you scold me when we get home, okay?"

Cui Yuanyong followed his sister helplessly as they dashed into the mountains. No sooner had they stepped onto the mountain path than his expression shifted, and he looked up at the sky.

A golden light flashed across the heavens, and the Book of Chaos descended with a new entry.

"Second month, Awakening of Insects. Zhao Changhe, having trained in martial arts for only four months, breaks through the third level of the Mystic Gate. At this time, he slays Fang Buping, branch leader of the Blood God Sect, at Beimang."

"Changes to the Hidden Dragon List."

"Ninetieth-first on the Hidden Dragon List: Zhao Changhe."

"The long river falls from the nine heavens, converging into the martial world."

[End of Volume One]

Volume Two: The Blade Emerges from Beimang