Wuxia: Become the 100-Victory Sword King at the Beginning

Chapter 275. Swords clash and shadows fall, grudges linger in the martial world; chivalry and tenderness roam amidst chaos.

On ordinary days, the Hak tribe used its military strength to burn, kill, plunder, and commit all sorts of atrocities in the surrounding areas.

They swarmed like locusts, plundering the people's cattle and sheep, seizing fertile pastures, and driving innocent villagers from their homes.

The people they had harmed were displaced, and their cries echoed across the desolate land.

The elderly shivered in the cold wind, children cried in terror, and women screamed in despair. Meanwhile, the warriors of the Hak tribe laughed wildly, enjoying their "spoils of war." Their despicable behavior was utterly outrageous.

Since the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak Tribe joined forces, they have become like a tiger with wings, their ferocity growing even stronger. The Hak Tribe's fierce warriors, like wolves and tigers, have acted as vanguard henchmen for the Holy Sect's benefit, waging war and killing everywhere, attempting to help the Holy Sect expand its territory and achieve its nefarious ambitions.

In this perilous and treacherous Northwest, the presence of the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak Tribe hangs like two chilling, deadly blades overhead, their gleaming light inspiring fear and constantly threatening the survival of all forces. This makes the Northwest Salt Gang's journey to reclaim the salt routes and salt fields increasingly fraught with difficulties and obstacles. Furthermore, the various forces in the Northwest are intertwined, their interests deeply entangled, making the situation even more complex, like a tangled mess, difficult to unravel.

Back then, the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak Tribe lived in relative peace, each operating within their respective spheres of influence. However, as time passed and circumstances changed, both sides keenly realized that the other might become a key factor in helping them achieve their grand ambitions.

The Western Regions Holy Sect understood that since the successive misfortunes of the three families of Burial Moon, Dance Moon, and Silver Moon, the sect had suffered a severe blow and was already showing signs of decline. If it wanted to regain its former glory and restore its former splendor, controlling the salt routes and salt fields in the Northwest had become of paramount importance.

After all, salt is an essential commodity for people's livelihood. Once controlled, it is equivalent to holding the golden key to wealth and power, and one can take the initiative in the conflicts of the martial world. However, if the Holy Sect relies solely on its own strength and rashly confronts other forces, it will inevitably be weak and powerless, and it may be difficult to achieve its goal quickly in a short period of time.

At the same time, the Hak tribe is also mired in many difficulties.

Years of drought have ravaged pastures, causing them to shrink, grass to wither, and livestock to become emaciated. In addition, ongoing conflicts with other tribes over resources have further squeezed their living space, making it imperative for them to explore new lands and acquire more resources to alleviate their immediate crisis.

Just then, when they heard that the Western Regions Holy Sect was also eyeing the salt routes and salt fields, an evil and audacious idea quietly took root in the heart of the tribal chief.

The gears of fate turned quietly, and by chance, the envoy of the Western Regions Holy Religion met the warrior of the Hak tribe.

That was after a small-scale conflict, when the two sides met and tensions immediately rose.

The atmosphere was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring, ready to be released at any moment.

The warriors of the Hak tribe, wielding scimitars and glaring angrily, exuding a strong aura of blood, were about to pounce and tear their opponents to shreds; the Holy See's envoy, dressed in black robes, with a cold expression and mysterious, profound eyes, emanated an eerie aura, and fearlessly confronted the warriors.

After a brief stalemate, the Holy Church envoy had a sudden inspiration. A meaningful smile appeared on his lips as he slowly spoke, “Warriors, hold your fire. In my opinion, this fight will only result in mutual destruction, benefiting neither side. Now, I have a better plan. If my Holy Church and your tribe join forces, with the bravery of your warriors, coupled with my Holy Church’s mysterious and unpredictable techniques and vast and meticulous intelligence network, how could we not easily defeat the Northwest Salt Gang and seize control of the salt routes and salt fields? After the deed is done, your tribe will have priority access to a large share of the salt produced in the salt fields. This will not only meet your tribe’s own needs but also allow you to trade for other scarce and precious resources. In this way, your tribe will surely grow stronger and stronger, dominating the grasslands.”

The envoy spoke earnestly and clearly, outlining the enticing prospects of cooperation.

The warriors of the Hak tribe were taken aback at first, then looked at each other, a hint of hesitation flashing in their eyes.

The tribal chiefs also wore solemn expressions and fell into deep thought. They knew that cooperating with the Western Regions Holy Sect was tantamount to seeking help from a tiger, and they were very likely to be drawn into a brutal and bloody conflict in the martial arts world, with unpredictable consequences.

However, the enormous lure of profit burned like a raging fire in their hearts, making it hard for them to resist.

A moment later, a burly tribal chief with a full beard suddenly stood up, cracked his whip, and shouted, "Hmph, how can we miss such a good thing! When have the warriors of our Hak tribe ever been afraid of fighting? Joining forces with this Western Region Holy Sect might just open up a new world, seize the salt road and salt fields, and ensure our tribe will never have to worry about food and clothing again!"

His voice was powerful and resonant, echoing throughout the tent with an undeniable air of authority.

Upon hearing this, several leaders immediately echoed, "That's right, we can't miss this great opportunity! Fortune favors the bold, what's there to be afraid of!" Their eyes gleamed with greed, their minds already clouded by the prospect of wealth.

However, a few leaders looked worried. One of the older leaders spoke slowly, his voice slightly hoarse: "Gentlemen, this matter needs careful consideration. The Western Regions Holy Sect acts unpredictably. If we cooperate with them, we may bring trouble upon ourselves, and then the tribe will be in danger." He frowned, his eyes full of worry, trying to persuade everyone to remain calm.

However, due to the persistence of the majority and the lure of huge profits, the intention to cooperate was ultimately reached.

From then on, the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak tribe officially colluded, and a series of bloody battles swept across the northwestern land.

To solidify their cooperation, the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak tribe secretly orchestrated a chilling alliance ceremony.

The location was chosen in a secluded valley deep in the desert, a place seemingly forgotten by the world. The howling winds roared like demons, raging and swirling, carrying with them a sky full of yellow sand, as if to devour everything in the world.

The followers of the Western Regions Holy Sect, dressed in black robes, resembled a group of messengers from hell, surrounding a huge blood-red altar.

They muttered incantations in low, hoarse voices, as if they were curses from the deepest hell.

On the altar, eerie green flames burned fiercely, the flames twisting and dancing as if they were alive.

The flames emitted a pungent, nauseating odor, and contained boundless evil power.

The warriors of the Hak tribe, all bare-chested, fought with ferocious expressions.

Holding sharp blades, they didn't hesitate to slash their strong bodies, leaving bloody marks. Crimson blood flowed slowly along the muscle fibers, looking particularly shocking against the backdrop of yellow sand.

By engaging in this almost self-destructive act, they demonstrated their loyalty and determination to this alliance, declaring to heaven and earth that they would spare no expense to achieve their goal.

The two sides exchanged tokens symbolizing their alliance, which, like a devil's pact, bound them tightly together.

The Holy Church presented a black token with mysterious runes that seemed to shimmer with an eerie light in the darkness, as if concealing an ancient and evil secret. The Hak tribe, on the other hand, offered a totem made of precious animal bones. The totem was engraved with strange patterns, exuding a primitive and mysterious aura, and carrying the soul of the tribe.

From then on, the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak Tribe officially colluded, like two ferocious wolves, and began to launch a series of extremely cruel attacks on the Northwest Salt Gang.

They first targeted the salt road, carefully setting up an ambush along its winding course.

The warriors of the Hak tribe, riding swift horses as fast as lightning and wielding gleaming scimitars, charged like a whirlwind, carrying clouds of yellow sand, towards the salt convoy.

Their eyes gleamed with bloodlust, and they roared wildly, catching the Salt Gang members completely off guard.

Meanwhile, the followers of the Western Regions Holy Sect were performing strange and unpredictable spells on the sidelines.

They waved their hands and chanted incantations; in an instant, dark clouds filled the sky, and darkness enveloped the earth.

The members of the Salt Gang felt a chill rise from the bottom of their hearts, plunging them into deep fear and chaos.

In this fierce battle, thousands of elite guards of the Salt Gang were killed on the spot by the enemy's attack.

Their blood gushed out, staining the once pristine salt road crimson, resembling a river flowing with blood. The scene was gruesome and unbearable to witness.

Next, they turned their evil accusations towards the salt fields. The followers of the Holy Church used dark magic to create all sorts of bizarre illusions. In an instant, ghostly figures lurked throughout the salt fields, creating a sinister and terrifying atmosphere.

The saltworks guards were disoriented by these illusions, their eyes glazed over, and they were at a loss.

The Haq tribe seized the opportunity to invade the salt fields like a tidal wave, burning, killing, looting, and committing all sorts of atrocities.

The raging fire spread rapidly, engulfing the houses and warehouses in the salt field, with thick smoke billowing into the sky.

The saltworkers fled in all directions, their cries and screams echoing across the war-torn land.

The entire salt field was instantly engulfed in flames, resembling a living hell, filled with pain and despair.

Under this double blow, the Northwest Salt Gang suffered heavy losses and was severely weakened.

Gang leader Xue Hongshan was extremely anxious, knowing that he could hardly reverse the defeat on his own.

So he traveled around, contacting a large number of martial arts masters in the Northwest, sparing no expense to ask them for help.

However, despite the fierce resistance of the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak tribe, these martial arts masters were unable to turn the tide of the battle, and the Salt Gang still suffered heavy losses.

Left with no other option, Xue Hongshan placed his last hope on the Xiong Ying Society and sent someone to ask Shi Feiyang for help.

At this moment, after carefully listening to Xie Wen's report, Shi Feiyang's face was as solemn as iron, and his deep gaze seemed to penetrate the tent and see through the many dangers in the distance.

He slowly scanned Guo Xiangyu and Shi Xiong, his voice deep and powerful, like the ringing of a bell: "Xiangyu, Shi Xiong, the current situation is extremely precarious and urgent. We must be fully prepared. You two should immediately start packing your belongings and move all the essential items to my tent." His words revealed a clear understanding of the situation and deep concern for his comrades.

Having said that, he turned slightly to the side and continued, “Each person only needs to carry a piece of horse leg meat and a water bag, just in case. The horse leg meat, after being dried, can be stored for a long time and can sustain life even in dire straits; the water in the water bag is the source of life and is of utmost importance in this vast desert, so it must not be lost in the slightest.”

He showed great care for the daily lives of the heroes of Xiong Ying, demonstrating his leadership qualities.

Upon hearing this, both Guo Xiangyu and Shi Xiong's expressions tightened, and a hint of tension and determination flashed in their eyes.

The two exchanged a glance, understood each other perfectly, and immediately took action.

Guo Xiangyu moved with light, graceful steps, her figure both elegant and capable, like a nimble swallow in flight.

She strode quickly toward her tent, her hands moving swiftly like butterflies flitting among flowers as she gathered her clothes, valuables, and some concealed weapons.

Every movement was clean and swift, showcasing the heroic spirit of a woman from the martial arts world.

Shi Xiong strode forward with steady, powerful steps and swift, decisive movements. He polished his weapon until it gleamed, and in his hand, the weapon seemed like an extension of his body, radiating a chilling killing intent.

He then carefully packed some healing pills into a specially made medicine bag. These pills were all life-saving medicines, a matter of life and death.

He then placed them all into a package, which, in his hands, carried the hopes of the entire team.

Before long, the two of them, each carrying their own bags, hurriedly returned to Shi Feiyang's tent.

Shi Feiyang nodded slightly, his eyes showing approval. He reached out and took the bags from Guo Xiangyu and Shi Xiong, then grasped the opening of the deerskin bag with both hands and gave it a gentle shake. A miraculous scene unfolded; the bags seemed to be drawn by an invisible, mysterious force, slowly floating up and disappearing directly into the deerskin bag.

This deerskin bag is like a mysterious space that can hold everything.

Shi Feiyang retied the deerskin bag and gazed resolutely into the distance, where he could see the life-or-death struggle that was about to take place.

His eyes held no fear, only a burning desire for victory and unwavering conviction. In this ever-changing world, he was prepared to face the impending storm.

Guo Xiangyu, like a graceful yet persistent butterfly drawn by love, lightly carried her bag and approached Shi Feiyang with hurried yet gentle steps.

Her eyes, like the brightest stars in the night sky, were bright and resolute, fixed on Shi Feiyang without blinking. In this vast world, only his existence was real; everything else was just an illusion.

The deep affection in her gaze was as fiery as a burning flame, seemingly capable of igniting the surrounding air. Yet, the resolute determination within it was like a towering mountain that had stood for millennia, unshaken by the howling winds of time or the raging torrents of fate. She parted her lips slightly, revealing a pair of luscious, luscious lips, like the most vibrant peach blossoms in spring, radiating a captivating glow.

Her voice was clear and melodious, yet it carried a power that could reach the depths of one's heart, conveying a vow etched deep within the soul, an eternal and unchanging promise: "My lord, this great battle is undoubtedly the most severe test fate has given us, a matter of life and death, a matter of survival. Xiangyu begs you, please, do not abandon me. No matter how thorny the road ahead may be, leaving us wounded and scarred, or how fraught with danger, every step treading on the edge of life and death, Xiangyu has made up her mind that in this life, she will walk alongside you, bound by life and death. As long as I can be by your side, even if it means crossing raging flames or stepping into boiling broth, Xiangyu will have no complaints, willingly enduring all suffering for you. Because, in Xiangyu's heart, you are the only light illuminating my life, my unwavering faith, and the eternal home of my soul."

Her voice, like a soft yet resilient thread, echoed softly within the tent, each word imbued with life, brimming with her intense, almost obsessive, love for Shi Feiyang. This voice, like a spring breeze, gently stirred the heart, evoking ripples of emotion and tenderness in those who heard it.

Shi Feiyang stood there quietly, his gaze never leaving Guo Xiangyu.

A complex expression flashed across his deep eyes for a fleeting moment.

There was a deep emotion stirred by Guo Xiangyu's fervent affection, like the first blooming flower in spring, bringing freshness and warmth, slowly unfolding in his heart; there was a deep worry for Guo Xiangyu's safety, a worry like a heavy mountain, pressing heavily on his heart, making his breathing heavy; and there was the resoluteness of a leader when faced with this difficult choice, like an incomparably sharp sword that could cut through all hesitation in the world, its cold light flashing, yet revealing helplessness and pain.

He sighed softly, a sigh that carried countless vicissitudes and unspeakable words, gentle yet heavy.

He said softly, “Xiangyu, how could I not understand your feelings? How could I not feel your deep affection? Every word you say, every glance you give, is etched deeply into my heart like a brand. But this battle is far too dangerous. The villains of the Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak Tribe are all ruthless and cruel. Their martial arts are terrifyingly powerful, like a pack of ferocious beasts ready to devour us at any moment. How could I bear to let your beautiful body be placed in such a perilous situation, facing the unknown test of life and death? I would rather bear all the suffering myself than let you suffer even the slightest harm.”

His voice was deep and gentle, like a spring breeze, softly brushing against Guo Xiangyu's heart, yet carrying an irresistible power that warmed her heart while also causing a pang of sadness.

That being said, in that split second, Shi Feiyang suddenly struck with lightning speed, instantly targeting Guo Xiangyu's "Lingtai" acupoint. Guo Xiangyu's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, and she had no time to react.

Guo Xiangyu felt a sudden numbness in her waist, and a wave of weakness washed over her body like a surging tide. She collapsed to the ground, as if a willow branch had been mercilessly broken by a storm, unable to move an inch.

At this moment, she was filled with mixed feelings. She was shocked by Shi Feiyang's sudden action, touched by his deep concern for her safety, and even more disappointed and unwilling to fight alongside him.

There was a faint glimmer of tears in her eyes, tears filled with deep affection and longing for Shi Feiyang.

Just at this critical and tense moment, the tent curtain was gently lifted, and Xie Wen strode in.

When his gaze fell upon the astonishing scene before him, he was first slightly taken aback, and a look of surprise flashed across his eyes.

However, Xie Wen, a seasoned veteran who had weathered many storms and overcome countless hardships, quickly regained his composure thanks to his rich experience and calm mind.

With a slight flick of his wrist, the movement was as natural as flowing water, yet it concealed a hidden secret.

In an instant, a celestial silkworm net, like a strange yet beautiful white demonic flower suddenly blooming in the pitch-black night, carrying wisps of chilling aura, enveloped Guo Xiangyu with lightning speed.

The silk net was incredibly strong. Under the dim, flickering candlelight inside the tent, each thread shimmered with a cold and eerie light, as if imbued with a mysterious magic.

This light, like a cold star twinkling in the night sky, exuded a chilling aura, and was also like an invisible and merciless net, trapping Guo Xiangyu firmly in the center, making it impossible for her to escape no matter how she struggled.

Guo Xiangyu lay helplessly on the ground, tears streaming down her face like a burst dam.

The tears, like pearls from a broken string, flowed freely down her fair, delicate face, quickly soaking her long, flowing hair.

Her heart was filled with grievances and confusion. These two emotions intertwined, like surging waves, crashing against the depths of her heart one after another, making her feel as if she were being pierced by thousands of sharp steel needles at the same time.

Tears streaming down her face, she cried out, "Young Master, why are you treating me so cruelly? From beginning to end, Xiangyu's heart and eyes have only ever belonged to you! To follow you, Xiangyu was truly willing to go through fire and water, even sacrifice her own life, without a single complaint. But you..."

Her voice was filled with a deep sob, a sob that seemed to possess an invisible yet powerful force, echoing continuously within the tent like a sharp dagger piercing the hearts of everyone present. Hearing it, one couldn't help but feel waves of pity and unbearable sorrow, and one's eyes would involuntarily well up with tears.

Upon seeing this, Shi Feiyang felt a sudden, sharp pain in his heart, as if an extremely sharp knife had slashed a deep gash in his heart, causing him so much pain that he could barely breathe.

He quickly squatted down, his movements so gentle it was as if he were handling the most precious and fragile treasure in the world, one that would break at the slightest carelessness.

He slowly reached out, his long, warm fingers gently brushing away the strands of hair that were wet with tears and stuck messily to Guo Xiangyu's cheeks.

His eyes were full of tenderness and concern, the tenderness like the brightest sunshine in spring, capable of dispelling all the gloom in the world; the concern like a fireplace in winter, capable of warming a cold heart.

He said softly, “Xiangyu, everything I’ve done is to ensure your and Shixiong’s safety. This battle is no ordinary fight. The Western Regions Holy Sect and the Hak tribe have countless experts, as numerous as the stars in the sky. Their methods are extremely cruel and heinous, leaving devastation and rivers of blood wherever they go, like a living hell. As your pillar of strength, I bear the heavy responsibility of protecting you. How can I stand by and watch you die needlessly, becoming victims of those villains? As for Xie Wen, his lightness skill is superb, his movements are like a ghost. In countless dangerous situations, he has his own set of self-defense techniques, so I don’t need to worry about him too much. You and Shixiong, you must follow Xie Wen’s arrangements in this battle. Do not act rashly, lest you suffer even the slightest harm. Do you understand my good intentions?”

His voice was gentle yet carried an undeniable firmness, conveying to Guo Xiangyu a powerful and warm belief—a force that could allow one to see hope in despair and find light in darkness.

Upon hearing Shi Feiyang's words, Guo Xiangyu's tears flowed even more profusely, like a torrent bursting its banks, unstoppable.

She bit her lip tightly, until her delicate lips turned slightly white, as if she wanted to vent all the grievances and resentment in her heart through this bite.

Her heart was filled with mixed feelings, a jumble of emotions intertwined and tangled together.

Her reason told her that Shi Feiyang was genuinely doing what was best for her and was doing his utmost to protect her; but the obsession in her heart to fight alongside him and share life and death was like a wild grass that grows tenaciously in spring and takes deep root in the cracks of rocks, which could not be easily dispelled no matter how fierce the wind and rain.

She gazed at Shi Feiyang, her eyes filled with understanding, like a gentle, warm spring breeze caressing her heart and bringing comfort; with reluctance to part, like the heavy, cold frost of winter weighing heavily on her heart, causing endless melancholy; and with a touch of stubbornness, like a steadfast rock in the mountains that has withstood the test of time, silently proclaiming the unwavering commitment deep within her heart.

However, Xie Wen carried Shi Xiong on his back, along with the Heavenly Silkworm Net, and reluctantly took Guo Xiangyu away. Guo Xiangyu's eyes remained fixed on Shi Feiyang until his figure disappeared outside the tent. The deep affection and longing in her eyes etched this moment deeply into her heart.

Outside the tent, the cold wind howled like a roaring beast, carrying boundless anger and power, whipping and rattling the tent. The sound was like the prelude to an impending storm, foreshadowing a breathtaking, life-or-death battle about to begin. Inside the tent, Shi Feiyang gazed in the direction Guo Xiangyu had gone, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

With his burden lifted, he slowly lay down to sleep, trying to conserve his energy.

But Guo Xiangyu's tearful eyes remained etched in his mind.

Night fell like a heavy, dark cloth soaked in resentment, pressing down and shrouding the deep valley hidden in the mountains.

The cliffs surrounding the valley are like giants rising abruptly from the depths of the earth, towering majestically and piercing the clouds.

These cliffs, with their majestic and icy forms, create a natural and indestructible barrier, completely enclosing everything within the valley, yet also making this place seem like a gloomy prison, isolated from the world and forgotten in a dark corner.

In the stronghold in the valley, the lights were dim and flickering, like candles that might be extinguished at any moment in the wind, or like will-o'-the-wisps drifting in a mass grave, emitting an eerie light that was sometimes bright and sometimes dim and sometimes unpredictable.

Under the hazy, yellowish light, shadowy figures moved about like ghosts, resembling a chaotic dance of demons, sending chills down one's spine.

At the same time, faint incantations from the Western Regions Holy Sect, imbued with a mysterious and eerie aura, could be heard from deep within the stronghold.

The voice was deep and hoarse, as if it came from the deepest hell, carrying endless gloom and terror. It echoed in the silent night, each sound like a heavy hammer, striking people's hearts hard, making it all the more sinister and terrifying.

At this moment, Zhong Renwang, the leader of the Beggars' Sect, swaggered into this strange place with the sect elders Ding Hong, Wu Zhou, Wu Shi, and Wu Gun. Zhong Renwang was tall, but his back was bent as if by an invisible weight due to his greed and scheming, making him appear somewhat hunched.

His eyes darted around, shifting rapidly, like a cunning fox lurking in the shadows, constantly calculating how to extract the greatest benefit from the situation. "Hmph, this Western Region Holy Sect certainly has a mysterious aura. Now that we've come to seek refuge, we must cling tightly to this powerful ally. From now on, our Beggars' Clan will be a force to be reckoned with in the martial world!"

As he pondered to himself, he walked with seemingly steady steps, but actually with hidden eagerness, toward the depths of the Holy Church, looking like a greedy thief about to enter a treasure cave, impatient to dig out its riches.

Dugu Yan, the master of Mingjian Manor and a eunuch of the martial world, was dressed in a black robe, like a ghost in the night. His face was expressionless, like a statue sealed by time, devoid of any emotion. He gripped his ever-present sword tightly in his hand, the blade trembling slightly, as if sensing the impending bloodshed and eagerly thirsting for blood. Xie Zhichuan, the young master of Shenjian Manor, followed closely behind. He was young and impetuous, his face carrying a hint of unruliness and arrogance, his steps light yet somewhat restless.

Li Wuduo, the "Poisonous Hand Nuwa," walked slowly with light yet dangerous steps.

Her figure was graceful, like willow catkins dancing in the spring breeze; her face was beautiful, like a blooming flower; but her eyes held a cold chill, like ice that had never melted for a thousand years, sending shivers down one's spine.

She was fiddling with a bright green flute in her hand.

The flute appeared ordinary, but as she gently turned it in her hands, it was like a venomous snake ready to strike at any moment, concealing deadly poison. It was her deadly weapon that killed without leaving a trace, and each turn seemed to silently proclaim her danger and ruthlessness.

After healing his wounds for a while, Blood Lord had already forgotten the pain.

He was burly, like a towering mountain, with a face full of fleshy muscles, and exuded a strong aura of blood, as if he were a demon who had just crawled out of hell and was covered in blood.

He strode forward, each step landing heavily on the ground with a dull thud, muttering to himself, "Hmph, that Shi Feiyang, this time I will definitely cut him down with my sword and avenge this humiliation!"

The voice was filled with hatred and resentment; only by tearing Shi Feiyang to pieces could he vent his anger.

These martial arts masters, with such shamelessness, came to pledge allegiance to the Western Regions Holy Sect, hoping to grab a share of the spoils in the upcoming fierce battle, like greedy vultures. They approached the sect leader, Qi Yin, and bowed respectfully, their postures like those of loyal servants groveling before their master.

Zhong Renwang's face was all smiles, but those smiles revealed a hint of obsequiousness and servility, like a lapdog wagging its tail and begging for mercy.

He stepped forward, clasped his hands in a respectful gesture, though it concealed a hidden agenda. He said, “Our leader is wise and powerful, possessing both literary and martial virtues, and his prestige shakes the martial world. He is truly a model for us martial artists. Now, that scoundrel Shi Feiyang, oblivious to his own mortality, dares to oppose the Holy Sect. He is utterly overestimating himself. As far as I know, Shi Feiyang possesses two peerless treasures: the Xu Fu Immortal Pill and the Sacred Heart Manual. The Xu Fu Immortal Pill is said to be an ancient elixir that can prolong life and greatly increase one's power. The Sacred Heart Manual is an unparalleled martial arts manual, containing boundless mysteries. If our leader can obtain these two treasures, his power will surely increase greatly, he will dominate the martial world, and in the future, he will be invincible, unifying the martial world for thousands of years, and revered by all!”

As he spoke, he stole glances at Qi Yin's expression, his eyes filled with greed and anticipation, as if he could already see himself rising to prominence with Qi Yin and enjoying wealth and glory.

Qi Yin sat high on the sect leader's throne, which resembled a ferocious beast emerging from the darkness, exuding a chilling aura. He wore a pure black robe, its texture like flowing ink, mysterious and profound.

Embroidered on the long robe were mysterious golden runes, which seemed to have a life of their own, shimmering with an eerie light in the dim light, whispering ancient and evil incantations, and seemingly proclaiming the invincible majesty of the Holy Church.

His face was cold and stern, like ice that had never melted for a thousand years, devoid of any warmth. His eyes were like the sharpest star in the cold night, deep and icy. Upon hearing Zhong Renwang's words, Qi Yin raised an eyebrow slightly, a movement like a proud eagle looking down contemptuously at an ant, a faint, cold smile curling at the corner of her lips, like a chilling wind in the dead of winter, sending shivers down one's spine.

He spoke slowly, his voice deep and authoritative, like a demonic voice from the deepest hell, echoing in the gloomy stronghold. Every word was like a heavy hammer, striking the hearts of everyone present: "Oh? This Shi Feiyang actually possesses such a treasure. Hmph, in that case, he will have no chance of escape today. Since you have come to join my Holy Sect, then obey my orders. If you can make great contributions in this battle, I, the sect leader, will certainly not treat you unfairly. But if you dare to be the slightest bit negligent, or harbor any ill intentions, don't blame me for being ruthless and making sure you die without a burial place!"

His words contained both disdain for the enemy and intimidation of his subordinates, sending chills down one's spine.

The crowd knelt down, like a group of devout yet fearful believers, and said in unison, "We will obey the leader's command! The leader is wise and mighty, accomplished in both literature and martial arts, and will unify the martial world for thousands of years to come!"

The voices were clear and loud, yet in this eerie atmosphere, there was a hint of trembling and fear.

(End of this chapter)