Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1241 - Pushing It
Chapter 1241 – Pushing It
The entire region sank into an eerie silence. No one dared speak aloud; those who communicated relied on their divine senses.
Yu Zhengyang’s face turned grim. He never imagined Liu Wuxie would actually memorize more than a hundred thousand books he flipped through. Just moments earlier, he boasted he would kneel, call Liu Wuxie “grandfather,” and resign his post as elder.
Now the tables had turned, and everyone saw who the real clown was.
“Liu Wuxie, don’t push it!” Yu Zhengyang roared, his voice trembling with rage.
The surrounding disciples fixed their gazes on Liu Wuxie, waiting for his response. By reason alone, Liu Wuxie ought to stop here. He had secured victory; pressing further would only deepen the feud. Most expected him to give Yu Zhengyang a way out and soften the conflict.
Instead, Liu Wuxie’s eyes locked onto Yu Zhengyang like twin blades. “I’m pushing it? From the start, you acted like a clown, and now you say I’m pushing it? Isn’t that shameless?”
His venomous words struck harder than any blow. Many disciples nodded in agreement. Yu Zhengyang never intended to let Liu Wuxie go. Why would Liu Wuxie offer him mercy?
Mercy depended on the man. If Yu Zhengyang had acted as an elder, his suspicion would have been excusable. Instead, he had twisted the rules for a personal vendetta, attempting to eliminate Liu Wuxie outright, which was an entirely different matter.
Hearing himself called a clown in front of so many people enraged Yu Zhengyang.
The two elders beside him stayed silent, each hoping Liu Wuxie would not drag them into the affair. The hundred-odd deacons stepped back, unwilling to speak; none wanted Liu Wuxie to smash their faces alongside Yu Zhengyang’s.
“Liu Wuxie’s temperament is unique, and any normal person would quit while ahead,” disciples whispered.
Though shame fell on Yu Zhengyang, he still stood as a Primal Origin Realm elder. If he fought for his life, Liu Wuxie, only at the sixth-level Transcendent Realm, could hardly match the cultivation gap. Even among outer disciples, Liu Wuxie ranked near the bottom.
Yu Zhengyang spent years building ties within the Heavenly Dragon Sect; if he wanted revenge, he could bide his time. That was why many could not understand why Liu Wuxie continued to press him.
“An eye for an eye—what has Liu Wuxie done wrong?” some disciples argued in his defense. As an elder, Yu Zhengyang should set an example, not abuse his power.
Soon, the square boiled with heated debate: one faction supported Liu Wuxie; the other claimed he had gone too far.
“Liu Wuxie, why not end it here?” suggested the elder to Yu Zhengyang’s right. “I’ll apologize on his behalf. As compensation, we offer five hundred thousand astral stones. What do you think?”
Liu Wuxie’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Who do you think you are to apologize on his behalf? He’s the one who should apologize, not you.”
The blunt words stunned the elder; he fell momentarily speechless.
Elder Long, however, remained silent, tacitly approving of Liu Wuxie’s stance. Born with the dragon clan’s bloodline, Elder Long carried pride in his bones; had Liu Wuxie settled for compromise, Elder Long would have looked down on him.
Several elders prepared to step forward as peacemakers, but they abandoned the idea after hearing Liu Wuxie’s words; none dared risk humiliation at the hands of an outer disciple.
“This is interesting… I’m starting to like him!” one divine sense said, amusement in its tone.
“He’s too unruly, too domineering,” another divine sense countered. “Someone like him will never amount to much.”
Meanwhile, Yu Zhengyang found himself in a difficult situation. If he resigned, he would have to start from scratch; if he knelt, he would no longer have any future in the sect. No elder who knelt publicly could rise again. He would spend the rest of his life serving as a mere deacon.
“Liu Wuxie—show me how you plan to make me kneel,” Yu Zhengyang spat. He refused to honor his oath and openly challenged Liu Wuxie, forcing him to do so.
Jeers erupted from the crowd. Many disciples called him shameless. But to Yu Zhengyang, public ridicule meant less than the disgrace of kneeling; if he endured mockery, time could erase it, and he could reclaim his dignity later by killing Liu Wuxie.
“Yu Zhengyang, you disgust me,” Liu Wuxie said coldly. He had not expected a dignified elder to stoop so low.
More elders stepped back, widening the gap; none wished to be associated with Yu Zhengyang any longer.
“So what? What can you do to me?” Yu Zhengyang sneered, casting away his last scrap of dignity. His gaze locked on Liu Wuxie, daring him to act.
“You bring shame to the Heavenly Dragon Sect!” Elder Long’s voice thundered; he vanished and reappeared right before Yu Zhengyang.
No one expected Elder Long to act so decisively. Twin dragon claws materialized in midair and latched onto Yu Zhengyang’s legs.
Sickening cracks rang out. Yu Zhengyang screamed as his knees shattered, collapsing to the ground; the pain nearly drove him unconscious.
Worse than physical agony came the humiliation of kneeling in public. He was a Primal Origin Realm elder, but before a Void Realm powerhouse, he amounted to nothing; he couldn’t even resist.
“I loathe those who cannot keep their word. How did the sect raise such a despicable elder?” Elder Long’s roar sent shockwaves across the square, forcing nearby elders to retreat.
None dared intervene. Not even Elder Huang or Elder Ji raised their voices; both turned away, unwilling to watch the shame.
They knew Elder Long well—upright, unbending—the kind of man who made few friends, but once he did, the bond would last a lifetime.
Even Liu Wuxie hadn’t expected Elder Long to step in. His thoughts drifted to the dragon’s blood; a realization struck him—Elder Long could be the breakthrough point he needed to save Han Feizi and the True Martial Continent. Though he wasn’t among the sect’s highest echelons, Elder Long’s status remained undeniable.
However, Liu Wuxie dared not reveal anything; this was only their second meeting, and they had no real relationship.
“Uphold your promise!” Elder Long thundered.
Yu Zhengyang’s face twisted with fury, but the words stuck in his throat. Around them, disciples barely restrained laughter, waiting to see how a Primal Origin Realm elder would address an outer disciple as ‘grandfather.’
“Elder Long, you’ve gone too far!” Yu Zhengyang roared, face contorted. He was already kneeling—what more did Elder Long want? His grandfather was long dead; if he addressed Liu Wuxie as ‘grandfather,’ how could he face his ancestors?
“Do you think I won’t cripple your cultivation here and now?” Elder Long’s aura surged, condensing into the image of a divine dragon crashing down upon Yu Zhengyang.
Everyone knew the truth. Even if Elder Long killed Yu Zhengyang, the sect would not punish him—too many eyes witnessed Yu Zhengyang’s shamelessness. The upper echelons remained silent, but their divine senses were watching, and their silence itself was a sign of approval.
The crushing pressure bore down like a mountain. Yu Zhengyang trembled, blood seeping from his bitten lips, bones cracking audibly under the strain. The two elders who had stood at his side had long since fled.
If the suppression lasted longer, Yu Zhengyang’s dao heart could shatter, and his body could collapse along with it.
Liu Wuxie watched without a ripple of emotion. This was neither victory nor thrill, only the natural consequence of events. He had never sought spectacle; he wanted only to read in peace.
Some disciples averted their eyes; they could not stomach watching Yu Zhengyang grovel on the ground like a broken dog.
“Elder Yu, just call it—you said it, so keep your promise,” an elder persuaded. There was no point in Yu Zhengyang throwing his life away; as long as he lived, he could make a comeback.
Blood gushed from Yu Zhengyang’s mouth; his face withered, and his breath thinned to a weak thread.
“Yu Zhengyang is Elder Li Chen’s subordinate,” many Primal Origin Realm elders whispered. “By humiliating Yu Zhengyang, Elder Long has also offended Li Chen—this will likely spark a spectacle later.” The internal conflict among the elders was fierce, and this would only fuel it.
Mounting pressure finally broke Yu Zhengyang; his dao heart shattered, and defeat consumed him.
