Chapter 475 - 472: Counter-Ambush

Chapter 475: Chapter 472: Counter-Ambush

Lying prone in the bushes, Fang Han circulated the Returning Ruins Hidden Essence Skill with all his might, his aura retracting until he was like a lifeless stone.

His gaze pierced through the gaps in the leaves, fixed on the winding mountain path.

’Here they come.’

A dozen or so figures emerged from the depths of the dense forest. Their steps were swift, yet they made almost no sound.

They wore two different colors of tight-fitting attire. One group was in deep blue, with silver lightning patterns embroidered on their cuffs. The other was in crimson red, with flame patterns embroidered in gold thread on the hems of their robes.

They were the people from Thunderlight Pavilion and the Red Flame Sect.

Among them, two men had exceptionally powerful auras.

One was tall and slender, dressed in a deep blue long robe. He had a square face, and a sharp glint would flash in his narrow eyes as he blinked—

This was Xue Yuanlang, a First-Grade Elder of Thunderlight Pavilion.

The other was stocky, clad in a crimson long robe, his eyes bright and piercing under thick eyebrows—

This was Meng Zhao, a First-Grade Elder of the Red Flame Sect.

Fang Han held his breath, his eyes locked on Xue Yuanlang, who was the closest.

Not far from Fang Han, Chen Wanjun was hidden behind a massive, jutting boulder. His deep cyan Elder Robe blended almost perfectly with the rock.

His right hand rested on the hilt of the ancient long saber at his waist, his aura retracted like a hibernating snake.

One hundred feet.

Sixty feet.

Thirty feet.

The instant Xue Yuanlang stepped within that thirty-foot range—

CLANG—!

The ring of a saber sounded like a dragon’s cry as a flash of golden light, like lightning tearing through the void, erupted from behind the giant boulder!

Chen Wanjun’s figure appeared within the saber’s light, his deep cyan robe whipping in the wind. In that moment, his eyes, as bright as morning stars, held nothing but cold killing intent.

He gripped the saber with both hands. Upon the Golden Long Saber, Inner Qi condensed until it was almost tangible. A Sword Gang dozens of feet long extended from it, carrying a Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum as it slashed straight for Xue Yuanlang!

This strike had been building for a long time.

This strike held nothing back.

Xue Yuanlang’s pupils contracted violently.

He was a First Grade Martial Artist, and his Spiritual Perception was far beyond that of an ordinary person. But Chen Wanjun was also a First Grade Martial Artist, and no ordinary one at that.

The strike was too fast, too sudden.

He didn’t even have time to draw his sword; all he could do was twist his body to the side with all his might.

SHIIIIING—!

The golden saber light slashed diagonally from his left shoulder down to his right hip.

The deep blue Elder Robe tore apart, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

A gruesome wound stretched from his left shoulder to his right hip. Flesh curled back, faintly revealing the stark white of bone.

"Argh—!"

Xue Yuanlang let out a muffled grunt, staggering backward and leaving deep footprints in the ground.

He looked down at the wound on his chest. Blood was still pouring out, instantly soaking half his robes.

The strike had nearly cleaved him in two diagonally.

"Elder Xue!"

Faced with this sudden turn of events, Meng Zhao, the other First Grade Martial Artist, was the first to react. He whipped his head in their direction, preparing to rush to the rescue.

But before he could—WHOOSH! A cyan shadow shot out from the bushes like a phantom!

Fang Han’s figure appeared at Xue Yuanlang’s side. The Cloud Splitting Sword left its sheath, its light like a rainbow.

His Wind Sword Intent erupted with full force. He pushed the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique, which was at the Minor Achievement Realm, to its absolute limit. A cyan-gold radiance on the blade condensed until it was almost tangible.

This strike went straight for Xue Yuanlang’s neck!

Xue Yuanlang had just suffered a devastating blow. The gruesome wound from his left shoulder to his right hip was still bleeding profusely, and the intense pain had dulled his reflexes.

He sensed the lethal sharpness coming at him from the side and tried with all his might to dodge, but his heavily injured body was far too slow.

He managed to save his neck, but he couldn’t dodge the attack completely!

SPURT—!

The sword light flashed, and blood sprayed into the air.

Xue Yuanlang’s right arm was severed cleanly at the elbow.

The hand still gripping the sword hilt, along with the forearm, went spinning through the air. It landed heavily on the ground dozens of feet away, its fingers still twitching slightly.

"AHHH—!"

Xue Yuanlang let out a bloodcurdling scream, staggering back and nearly collapsing to the ground.

Blood sprayed wildly from the stump of his arm, dyeing the earth beneath his feet a dark red.

His face instantly turned ashen, and his aura weakened to an extreme degree.

"Fang Han!"

Among the Thunderlight Pavilion disciples, Xue Wu cried out in shock, his pale face filled with disbelief.

He never would have imagined that the person who had stayed behind in the Ancient Ruins, the twenty-year-old number one on the Qingyang County Celestial Pride List, would dare to ambush a First Grade Martial Artist.

And not only that, but he had succeeded, severing his clan uncle Xue Yuanlang’s right arm.

"You’re courting death!"

Meng Zhao roared, his figure erupting into motion as he lunged straight for Fang Han.

The longsword in his hand left its sheath. Its blade was as red as fire and carried a searing heatwave as he slashed at Fang Han’s head.

The attack was fast and vicious. The terrifying pressure of a First Grade Martial Artist was unleashed without reservation. Before the blade even arrived, the searing wind from the sword sent the hair on Fang Han’s forehead whipping backward.

However—CLANG! A golden long saber appeared before the crimson longsword. As saber met sword, a deafening shriek of metal on metal erupted.

A shockwave spread out in all directions, sweeping up fallen leaves and gravel and sending them flying everywhere.

Chen Wanjun stood with his saber, having blocked Meng Zhao’s attack.

"Meng Zhao, your opponent is me!"

His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone’s ears clearly.

The force of the blow sent Meng Zhao staggering back several steps. He steadied himself, his expression as dark as water.

His gaze lingered on Chen Wanjun for a moment, then shifted to the weakened Xue Yuanlang behind him, who had lost an arm. A trace of fear flashed in his eyes.

"Chen Wanjun, what do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to start a war between the sects of our two counties?"

he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Start a war between sects?"

Hearing this, the corners of Chen Wanjun’s mouth curved into a cold smile.

"Meng Zhao, why play dumb? Everyone knows exactly why your two sects have been tailing my Qingxuan Sect’s group."

He paused, holding the Golden Long Saber horizontally before him, its blade shimmering with golden light.

"If a war between sects is to be started, you’re the ones who made the first move."

Seeing that he couldn’t deceive Chen Wanjun, Meng Zhao dropped the pretense.

They had been tailing the Qingxuan Sect group precisely to scheme for the rewards Fang Han had obtained in the Ancient Ruins.

Now that they had been exposed, any further excuses would just make them a laughingstock.

"Since you already know—"

Meng Zhao took a deep breath, a vicious glint flashing in his eyes.

"—then there’s indeed no need to pretend anymore."

Before his voice had even faded, he moved again.

The flame-like Sword Qi on his crimson longsword surged, and he slashed out, aiming straight for Chen Wanjun.

Chen Wanjun’s eyes narrowed, and he advanced instead of retreating.

His Golden Long Saber danced like a wheel, its light a silken ribbon, as he met the crimson Sword Qi head-on.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG—!

Saber and sword clashed, the sound of metal on metal as dense as falling rain.

The terrifying powers of two First Grade Martial Artists collided, each clash generating a shocking impact wave.

Wherever the shockwaves passed, deep gouges were carved into the ground, trees snapped, and rubble was sent flying.

The area within a radius of hundreds of feet was left in complete ruins.

The two figures flickered rapidly across the ruined battlefield. Two streaks of light, one gold and one red, intertwined and collided, each impact creating a deafening roar.

Meng Zhao’s Swordsmanship was fierce and domineering. Every slash carried a searing heatwave, as if intending to burn everything to ashes.

Chen Wanjun’s Saber Technique was as steady as a mountain. Each swing carried a weight as profound as still water, always managing to neutralize Meng Zhao’s attacks at the last possible second and find an opportunity to counter.

For the moment, neither could gain the upper hand.

「Meanwhile.」

The pale-faced Xue Yuanlang’s gaze fell upon Fang Han.

His narrow eyes were now filled with venomous hatred and killing intent.

He had used his Inner Qi to forcibly stop the bleeding from his severed arm, but the excessive blood loss had left his face ashen and his aura extremely weak.

The gruesome wound from his left shoulder to his right hip still throbbed with a dull pain. Every breath tugged at the injury, causing his brow to furrow tightly.

"Good. Very good."

His voice was hoarse, like the winter wind scraping across dead branches.

"After hunting geese my whole life, to think I’d be pecked by one!"

He gritted his teeth, speaking one word at a time, each one seemingly laced with poison.

"You trailed my Qingxuan Sect group with ill intent. You should have expected this outcome. You brought this upon yourself."

Fang Han stood with his sword, his expression calm.

His voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone’s ears clearly.

"Brought it upon myself? I’ll tear you to shreds today!"

Xue Yuanlang laughed in his fury. The sound was hoarse and grating, filled with an irrepressible madness.

He shot to his feet, raising his remaining left palm.

In his palm, blue Inner Qi gathered and compressed wildly, instantly forming an incredibly condensed Palm Seal.

The Palm Seal was only about a foot square, yet it was as solid as if it were real. Blue, lightning-like energy coiled around it, radiating a heart-stopping, destructive aura.

"Die for me!"

Before his voice faded, he thrust his palm forward.

The blue Palm Seal shot through the air, carrying a terrifying might capable of shattering mountains as it flew straight toward Fang Han.

Wherever the Palm Seal passed, the air shrieked as it was torn apart, and a deep trench was carved into the ground.

Fang Han’s eyes narrowed.

The Inner Qi from the Cyan Profound Technique erupted within him. The vast Inner Qi of a Middle Stage of Third Grade cultivator was poured into the Cloud Splitting Sword without reservation.

His Wind Sword Intent erupted with full force, and he pushed the Sky-Splitting Sword Technique, which was at the Minor Achievement Realm, to its absolute limit.

He slashed out with his sword!

The cyan sword rainbow and the blue Palm Seal collided violently in mid-air.

BOOM—!!!

A deafening explosion rang out.

Blue and cyan-gold light frantically intertwined, corroded, and annihilated one another. The resulting shockwave spread out in all directions like a tangible tsunami.

Fang Han felt an irresistible, immense force travel up the body of his sword.

The qi and blood in his body churned, but he had ultimately blocked the attack.

If Xue Yuanlang hadn’t been so grievously injured, with his strength as a First Grade Martial Artist, there was no way Fang Han could have taken that palm strike.

But now, Xue Yuanlang was heavily wounded, his strength greatly diminished. Furthermore, he had used a Palm Technique he was not proficient in, which was the only reason Fang Han had been able to block it.

"Assist Elder Xue!"

Xue Wu shouted, drawing his sword and lunging at Fang Han first.

Lie Yunting and the other disciples snapped out of their daze. They all drew their weapons and surrounded Fang Han from all sides.

Flashes of sabers and swords and flying streams of Qi Force filled the air as a dozen or so figures pounced on Fang Han at once.

WHOOSH!

Fang Han’s eyes narrowed as he activated the Wind God Step.

His body became like a wisp of invisible wind, drifting several feet to the side at the last possible second to dodge the attacks.

A Thunderlight Pavilion disciple’s longsword grazed past his left ribs. The blade’s edge tore a hole in his cyan robe but failed to break the skin.

He returned the attack with a backhand slash.

The sword light flashed.

SCHLICK—

The Thunderlight Pavilion disciple didn’t even see the sword’s trajectory before he felt a cold sensation in his abdomen.

He looked down to see a thin line of blood stretching diagonally from his left waist to his right ribs.

The next moment, his upper and lower body separated completely, spilling blood and organs all over the ground.

Killed in a single strike!

The charging disciples from Thunderlight Pavilion and the Red Flame Sect all froze in their tracks.

Their young faces were filled with unconcealable horror.

To slice a disciple with Fourth Grade Cultivation in two with a single strike—such strength was far beyond their imagination.

"What are you retreating for? He’s only one person!"

Xue Wu gritted his teeth, suppressing the fear in his heart as he shouted fiercely.

The disciples exchanged glances and charged forward once more.