Chapter 47 Slaughtering Our Way into the Aldercrest Order, Roland Locke’s Fury!

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Slaughtering Our Way into the Aldercrest Order, Roland Locke’s Fury!

"Adrian Mercer, we’re fellow disciples, after all! Please spare us!"

Hearing their desperate pleas, Adrian let out a cold laugh.

"What? Now you remember the bonds between fellow disciples?"

His gaze swept across their frightened faces.

"And as for sparing you, tell me, did any of you ever spare me back then?"

Memories of the past flooded his mind.

After his Dantian had been crippled and his cultivation completely destroyed, the Aldercrest Order had expelled him without hesitation.

When he had returned to the mountain gate, hoping to enter the Order again, these very people had greeted him with ridicule and insults. They had even kicked him down more than a dozen stone steps, nearly costing him his life.

Every humiliation remained etched in his memory.

The contemptuous looks. The cruel laughter. The helplessness he had felt as he lay injured at the foot of the mountain.

As these memories resurfaced, the fury inside him burned hotter.

Every one of them deserves to die!

People like these shouldn’t be allowed to continue living as though nothing ever happened!

With murderous intent surging through his heart, Adrian raised his longsword once more, preparing to attack.

Seeing this, a blue-robed youth turned pale with anxiety and shouted, "Everyone, think about it! We all know Adrian’s Dantian was crippled. Yet he just killed Owen with a single sword strike. Something must be wrong here!"

He glanced nervously at Adrian before continuing.

"Who knows whether he can unleash another strike like that? We don’t even know how he recovered his strength!"

The youth raised his voice further.

"Since he clearly intends to kill every one of us, why don’t we fight together? If we attack simultaneously, we might still have a chance of surviving!"

His words fell, and the remaining disciples exchanged uncertain glances.

After thinking it over, they began to feel that his reasoning made sense.

Adrian had once been a cripple who had lost all his cultivation. Even if he had somehow recovered, could he really defeat all of them at once?

Every one of them possessed cultivation at the Body Tempering Realm.

How could so many cultivators lose to a single former disciple?

Once they convinced themselves of this, their fear quickly gave way to aggression.

"He’s right! Everyone, attack together!"

"Kill him!"

The disciples surged forward, raising their weapons as they charged Adrian.

Yet the blue-robed youth who had encouraged them to fight did something entirely different.

The moment the others rushed forward, he turned around and ran.

These idiots can die here for all I care!

He had already realized that Adrian was far more dangerous than he appeared. There was no reason to risk his own life alongside a group of fools.

If he escaped while the others distracted Adrian, he might survive this disaster.

He sprinted more than ten steps without looking back.

Strangely, however, he heard no sounds of fighting behind him.

No clashes of weapons.

No furious shouts.

Not even a single scream.

The sudden silence made him uneasy.

What’s going on?

Unable to suppress his curiosity, the blue-robed youth cautiously turned his head.

The sight before him nearly stopped his heart.

The ground was already covered with corpses.

Bodies lay scattered across the stone steps, their clothes soaked in blood. The disciples who had charged forward moments earlier had all fallen.

Not a single one remained standing.

Damn it! When did this happen?!

His pupils contracted violently.

In his panic, he stumbled over his own feet and crashed to the ground.

Pain shot through his body, but he didn’t dare waste a moment on it. Scrambling onto his hands and knees, he desperately tried to crawl away.

He hadn’t even managed to move two meters when his forehead suddenly bumped into something soft.

His entire body froze.

A terrible premonition gripped his heart.

Slowly, he raised his head.

The object blocking his path was none other than Adrian’s right leg.

Adrian stood before him, his expression calm and indifferent. He held his longsword in one hand, its sharp blade stained crimson. Blood trickled from its tip, dropping onto the stone beneath his feet.

The air reeked of blood.

An oppressive silence hung over the mountain gate.

The blue-robed youth felt an overwhelming pressure descend upon him. His limbs turned cold, and his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to beg for mercy.

But his throat had tightened so badly that he could barely breathe.

Before he could force out a single word, Adrian moved his wrist.

His longsword swept forward like a dragon striking its prey.

Swish!

The blade pierced straight through the youth’s heart.

Blood burst from the wound, scattering across the ground.

Adrian withdrew his sword.

The blue-robed youth stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes before collapsing helplessly onto the stone steps. His body twitched a few times, then went completely still.

Another life had ended.

And the mountain gate was finally silent.

Only after confirming that every disciple who had confronted him was dead did Adrian’s composure begin to crumble.

His face turned deathly pale, and his legs felt strangely weak beneath him. His figure swayed slightly as an unfamiliar wave of discomfort washed over him.

This had been his first time killing another person.

And he hadn’t killed just one.

He had slaughtered an entire group.

The sight of so many corpses, combined with the lingering smell of blood, overwhelmed his senses. His body instinctively reacted to the violence he had just unleashed.

Although he had endured countless humiliations in the past, taking human lives was an entirely different matter.

For a brief moment, Adrian struggled to steady himself.

Ethan Mercer, however, reacted very differently.

Having already killed Elias Marlow and Elara Wycliffe, Ethan had grown accustomed to the reality of taking an enemy’s life. Rather than feeling uncomfortable, he found his blood running hot with excitement.

In his eyes, the disciples of the Aldercrest Order were no innocent victims.

They had repeatedly humiliated Adrian and treated his suffering as entertainment. Seeing Adrian finally strike back against them made Ethan feel a surge of satisfaction.

To him, these people had brought their fate upon themselves.

Julian Mercer noticed Adrian’s abnormal condition and spoke in a steady voice.

"Well done."

Adrian lifted his head.

"When dealing with enemies, you must abandon unnecessary kindness. Only decisive, thunderous methods can establish your authority. Make them fear you. Make them understand that provoking you comes at a price."

Julian’s gaze remained cold as he continued.

"Kindness should be reserved for our own people. Enemies who repeatedly seek to harm us should never mistake our restraint for weakness."

Adrian clenched his teeth and forced himself to stand straight.

"Yes, Clan Head. I understand."

His expression gradually hardened, and the weakness in his posture began to fade.

Julian gave a slight nod of approval.

Then he stepped ahead of the two young men and looked toward the towering mountain path leading deeper into the Aldercrest Order.

"Come. Let me see what kind of ability this Order possesses. They had a priceless piece of jade right in front of them, yet they failed to recognize its value and threw you away instead."

A sharp light flashed through Adrian’s eyes.

He tightened his grip around his longsword and followed Julian without hesitation.

Ethan walked beside him.

The three continued toward the heart of the Aldercrest Order.

Today, they had not come to negotiate.

They had come to settle accounts.

...

Aldercrest Order, Main Hall

Inside the magnificent main hall of the Aldercrest Order, a towering middle-aged man was practicing sword techniques.

He stood nearly nine feet tall, with broad shoulders, a powerful build, and a thick beard covering much of his face. In his hands rested an enormous, heavy sword.

Each time he swung the weapon, a fierce gust of wind swept through the hall.

His movements were forceful, yet there was a certain depth to the way he guided the blade. He was not merely practicing sword forms. He was carefully studying their subtleties, seeking to deepen his understanding of Sword Intent.

This man was Roland Locke, the renowned Sect Master of the Aldercrest Order, whose reputation extended throughout the surrounding cities.

He was also the father of Kieran Locke, whose fate had already been sealed during the conflict with the Mercer Family.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps shattered the quiet atmosphere.

The main hall doors flew open.

A young disciple stumbled inside in a state of panic and fell face-first onto the floor.

"Bad news, Sect Master! Someone has fought their way into our Order!"

Roland Locke’s expression changed instantly.

His eyebrows shot upward, and a fierce glint flashed through his eyes.

"What did you say?!"

His voice thundered throughout the hall.

"Who dares to invade the Aldercrest Order and behave so arrogantly? Could it be the Ashen Thorn Sect?"

The moment he heard that the Order was under attack, Roland immediately thought of the Ashen Thorn Sect.

The two organizations had long been hostile toward each other. Both possessed experts at the Origin Sea Realm, and neither side had ever been willing to yield completely to the other.

If the Ashen Thorn Sect had finally decided to launch an attack, the consequences could be severe.

However, the disciple hurriedly shook his head.

"N-No, Sect Master! It isn’t the Ashen Thorn Sect!"

His face was pale, and his voice trembled as he continued.

"There are only three of them. One man and two young men. I recognize one of the youths. His name is Adrian Mercer, and he was once an Inner Sect Disciple of our Order."

Roland narrowed his eyes.

Adrian Mercer.

He remembered the name.

Not long ago, Adrian’s Dantian had been crippled by the Ashen Thorn Sect, completely destroying his cultivation. The Order had subsequently expelled him.

The decision had been made because a disciple who could no longer cultivate was considered a burden.

Yet the young disciple’s next words made Roland’s expression grow increasingly gloomy.

"For some unknown reason, Adrian Mercer has recovered his cultivation. He’s already reached the Heavenly Origin Realm!"

The disciple swallowed nervously before continuing.

"He has killed several of our true disciples along the way, and many other disciples have also been killed or injured. The other young man is nearly as powerful as Adrian, and his swordsmanship is extremely fierce. Even Deacon Fletcher died by his sword!"

Roland’s expression darkened.

Nevertheless, he soon regained his composure.

"If that’s all, any Elder should be able to deal with them. Why are you so terrified?"

His eyes narrowed further.

"Unless... you’re afraid of the man accompanying them?"

The young disciple’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

The scene he had witnessed was so terrifying that even recalling it made his body tremble.

"Elder Harlan stepped forward to capture the two young men. But the man accompanying them had remained completely still until then."

The disciple paused, struggling to find the words.

"Then, without warning, he finally moved."

His voice dropped to a frightened whisper.

"With a single move, he killed Elder Harlan..."

"A single move?"

Roland’s expression changed.

A look of astonishment appeared in his eyes.

Elder Harlan was no ordinary cultivator. He had reached the fifth layer of the Purple Mansion Realm, making him one of the Order’s formidable combatants.

Yet this mysterious man had killed him with a single move.

Such strength was truly alarming.

Roland’s thoughts raced.

Could this man be an Origin Sea Realm expert?

The possibility flashed through his mind, but instead of fear, a cold smile gradually spread across his face.

"If he were facing someone else, the outcome might be uncertain."

He tightened his grip around the hilt of his heavy sword.

"But if he dares to challenge me, he will undoubtedly lose!"

Roland was a renowned expert at the sixth layer of the Origin Sea Realm.

Moreover, he had comprehended Sword Intent and cultivated a powerful Earth Rank Low Grade cultivation technique.

His cultivation, swordsmanship, and accumulated experience gave him tremendous confidence in his own strength.

Throughout the surrounding territories, few Origin Sea Realm cultivators could make him feel threatened.

Even if the mysterious man possessed a comparable cultivation level, Roland believed he had the strength to defeat him.

With that conviction firmly established, he raised his head and strode toward the entrance of the main hall.

His broad, calloused fingers tightened around the heavy sword.

Then his pace suddenly accelerated.

In the blink of an eye, his towering figure blurred into motion, moving with astonishing speed.

Relying on his Divine Sense, he quickly located the source of the disturbance.

The sounds of clashing weapons soon reached his ears.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Roland arrived and looked toward the battlefield.

The sight before him made his eyes narrow.

Two young men dressed in green robes were fighting fiercely against nearly a hundred disciples of the Aldercrest Order. Each held a three-foot azure sword, and their movements were sharp and relentless.

Their green robes were already stained with large amounts of crimson blood.

But not a single drop belonged to either of them.

Every stain came from their enemies.

Beneath their feet lay densely packed corpses, the bodies of Aldercrest Order disciples who had fallen during the brutal battle.

Roland’s expression turned cold.

His Order had been invaded, his disciples slaughtered, and his authority openly challenged.

The fury building inside him finally erupted.

"Who gave you the courage to slaughter my disciples?!"

His thunderous roar spread across the battlefield.

The surviving disciples immediately turned toward their Sect Master, relief appearing on their faces.

Their strongest support had finally arrived.

And now, they believed, the invaders would pay for everything they had done.