Chapter 118: How Do You Defend Against This Blade?

In the ruins, Zhao Wanwu's chest bore a huge wound, through which his constantly beating heart could faintly be seen.

Blood continuously poured from his mouth, and many fragments of his organs could be seen.

Zhao Wanwu painfully lifted his head, looking at Shen Qing slowly approaching, fear welling up in his eyes.

"Shen Qing... Do you really intend to move against my Zhao clan?"

Beside him, another middle-aged man, judging by his attire and status, also not low, spoke tremblingly.

"My Zhao clan, after all, is a prestigious family; you really..."

Before he could finish speaking, a domineering true qi directly exploded his head, blood spattering onto the faces of the surrounding Zhao clan members.

Shen Qing looked down from above at Zhao Wanwu, gazing at him with the eyes of one looking at an idiot.

"Can you stop always spouting nonsense?"

"I have already brought troops to surround your household; you are nearly beaten to death by me, yet you still ask here whether I intend to act against the Zhao clan?"

Zhao Wanwu's pupils kept trembling; he still could not believe that a garrison commander would dare to move against his Zhao clan.

Even if our Zhao clan has declined, we still have friends and backers; a twitch of their legs would shake Qing Province. If they sought revenge, it would absolutely be beyond what a garrison commander of Jia Shui Jun could bear.

But he horrifiedly discovered that he could not see a trace of fear in Shen Qing's eyes.

Shen Qing grabbed Zhao Wanwu and lifted him up.

"Or let me ask you an interesting question."

"Where is Zhao Ziyang?"

Zhao Ziyang is Zhao Wanwu's great-grandfather, that is, a Ninth Layer Grand Master Realm cultivator.

Zhao Wanwu did not speak, but his mind kept turning, trying to find a way to save his life.

Shen Qing narrowed his eyes, reached out and pinched Zhao Wanwu's ear.

"What are you going to do..." Zhao Wanwu's voice trembled with fear.

Shen Qing's fingers suddenly exerted force, twisting Zhao Wanwu's ear a full turn, then pulling hard; a sound of flesh tearing rang out, and his ear was ripped clean off.

Zhao Wanwu wanted to scream, but Shen Qing's hand gripping his neck suddenly exerted force, directly suppressing his scream in his throat; he could not even utter a cry.

Shen Qing casually tossed the ear aside.

"I thought you weren't speaking because your ear was broken, so I checked."

"Now it seems fine; why then don't you answer my question?"

"Then I'll ask again: where is Zhao Ziyang?"

Zhao Wanwu's face pained: "It's that small hill deep within the Zhao manor."

Shen Qing stopped questioning, dragging Zhao Wanwu toward the depths of the Zhao manor.

Cao Shen shouted: "Commander Shen! What should we do with these Zhao clan members?"

Shen Qing didn't even turn his head, waving his hand.

"Keep a few key ones; I don't want to see any other survivors."

Cao Shen nodded, his gaze icy; the soldiers of the Majestic Army also understood.

It had long been a deep-seated grudge.

The Majestic Army has been harmed by this Zhao clan; since returning to Jia Shui Jun, there has been nonstop fighting, heavy casualties, and the Zhao clan still obstructs matters; even now, on Great Net Mountain, there remain over a thousand wounded soldiers.

At Cao Shen's order, several commanders of a thousand led their men charging at the Zhao clan.

In an instant, corpses littered the ground, wails unceasing.

At the same time, deep in the Zhao manor, on the small hill where Zhao Ziyang was in seclusion.

This place was built at great expense by the Zhao manor for Zhao Ziyang, to provide him a good seclusion environment; normally no one would approach this spot.

But today, that tranquility is to be broken.

Zhao Jin, a direct descendant of the Zhao clan, came running here, crawling and stumbling, constantly wailing.

"Ancestor! Save me! Ancestor!"

But this small hill had been built with several layers and multiple soundproofing barriers; outside sounds could not penetrate it at all.

Zhao Jin fumbled frantically with the mechanism on the door, but just then he clearly heard footsteps behind him, yet he dared not turn to see who it was.

These footsteps were neither fast nor slow, yet they struck Zhao Jin's heart like precise, deafening drumbeats.

Sweat began to bead on Zhao Jin's forehead, and his movements grew ever more frantic.

Even though the mechanism was not complex, it malfunctioned repeatedly in succession.

The footsteps drew ever closer, ever closer, and Zhao Jin's hands trembled more and more.

With a crisp click, the mechanism finally opened; the door of the secret chamber slowly swung open, and a warm gust of air rolled toward his face.

Zhao Jin also saw Zhao Ziyang sitting in meditation at the center of the secret chamber.

"Ancestor! Save me!"

Zhao Ziyang slowly opened his eyes; a glint of light appeared in his cloudy gaze.

"What has happened?"

"Ancestor, someone wants to exterminate our Zhao clan! Please come out of seclusion..."

Before he could finish speaking, Zhao Ziyang's face changed abruptly, and he directly transformed into a purple phantom that leapt out.

But it was still a step too late; a fine vertical blood line appeared between Zhao Jin's brows.

Shen Qing's cold voice also came through.

"What good are you if it takes half a day just to open a secret chamber door?"

Zhao Ziyang looked at the junior who had lost his life before his eyes; although he did not know who Zhao Jin was, he knew that being able to open the secret chamber confirmed him as a direct descendant of the Zhao clan.

Yet such a direct descendant was actually cut in half right before his eyes.

Zhao Ziyang's face flushed red; he gritted his teeth and stared at Shen Qing.

"Such vicious methods."

"Which district's Commandant are you? Where's Xu Han?!!"

Shen Qing raised an eyebrow: "You don't know me?"

Then he laughed: "Not knowing me makes things easier."

It seems Zhao Ziyang has indeed been in seclusion for a long time; he doesn't even know that the Commandant of the Embroidered Uniform Guard in Jia Shui Jun has changed.

Shen Qing raised his hand, aiming Zhao Wanwu's face at him.

"If you don't know me, you must know him then."

Zhao Ziyang's face turned pale again: "Xiao Wu!"

Zhao Wanwu's pupils were filled with pain and fear, but he couldn't make a sound because Shen Qing's true qi had sealed his throat.

Zhao Ziyang took a deep breath: "I don't know who you are, but give me Xiao Wu; name your terms."

Shen Qing laughed and shook his head: "No conditions, just catch him."

Having said that, Shen Qing threw Zhao Wanwu toward Zhao Ziyang, who didn't think twice and reached out to catch him.

But Zhao Wanwu, mid-air, having left Shen Qing, lost the true qi that had been suppressing his voice, and he burst into an anguished howl.

"Grandfather! Don't catch him!"

"Don't catch him? Why not?"

In the moment of thought, Zhao Wanwu had already been caught by Zhao Ziyang.

Now he also understood why Zhao Wanwu had told him not to catch him.

He lifted his head and saw red mist filling the sky.

He also saw an ink-black giant dragon closely following behind Zhao Wanwu.

Bang!

Zhao Wanwu was instantly cut into a blood mist; the blade's force did not wane, slamming heavily into Zhao Ziyang's chest and sending him flying backward.

A huge sound rang out as the ink-black dragon slammed straight into Zhao Ziyang, hurling him into the small hill; the heavily fortified hill was shattered into a large pit, and violent smoke and dust shot up into the sky.

Shen Qing coldly gazed at the smoke and dust.

If you haven't heard his name, things are easy; you surely don't know Shen Qing's Zero Frame Starting Hand.

Then how could you defend against Shen Qing's Ink Dragon Severing River strike?

This strike embodies three months of cultivation.

How could you defend against it!