Chapter 41: Conclusion

A furious blade intent instantly engulfed Xu Hua.

Li Rui stretched his body; relying solely on arm strength to swing the thirty-seven-pound great sword would surely dislocate his shoulder—he must use the power of his waist and abdomen, stepping in sync with the blade.

The White Ape Slash unleashed its full power.

“Thrilling!”

Xu Hua’s eyelid twitched; he drew his own blade and blocked the ferocious assault with the flat of his blade.

He too used the White Ape Slash.

“Fuck, it really is you!”

Xu Hua cursed.

The more he fought, the more frustrated he became.

The opponent’s White Ape Slash was even better than his own—he was losing the blade duel.

“Shit!”

Xu Hua’s rage reached its peak, but one arm had been severed, and he’d also taken a hammer blow from Dao Xiong—his strength was no longer what it had been.

He forced a breath deep into his core.

A sickly fervor spread across his face.

“I’ll kill you!”

Li Rui’s brow twitched slightly; he clearly felt Xu Hua’s power had more than doubled.

“What kind of technique is this?”

“A final surge of life?”

He intensified the force in his grip.

One slash, two slashes—

The thirty-seven-pound great sword whirled so swiftly that raindrops falling from the sky were deflected into fleeting shadows.

Xu Hua’s heart lurched.

“Even my dead master didn’t wield such refined blade art, did he?”

Within mere breaths, he spotted the truth.

The White Ape Slash this anonymous warrior used looked identical to his own—but in truth, it was utterly different.

“Once I kill you, I’ll find out.”

Xu Hua grinned, revealing a cruel smile.

In the next instant—

He flicked his right sleeve, and a sharp, glinting dagger shot out, aimed straight for Li Rui’s vital points.

The dagger moved too fast.

It slipped effortlessly past Li Rui’s sword.

Li Rui was startled: “Amazing hidden weapon.”

Xu Hua was truly not to be underestimated; though he’d lost an arm, he’d used that very loss to conceal a hidden blade—unpredictable and impossible to guard against.

The dagger’s speed was terrifying—it must have been trained for years.

“Too bad you met me!”

Li Rui let go of his great sword, and at the same time drew a short dagger from his waist.

He swept it upward.

Clang!

A clear metallic clash rang out.

Xu Hua’s dagger arced through the air, spinning backward as it flew away.

He widened his eyes.

He hadn’t expected to meet another practitioner who’d also hidden a blade.

“Fuck!”

In a flash, Li Rui lunged forward.

He seized the still-airborne long sword and, using its momentum, brought it down with crushing force straight onto Xu Hua’s head.

“No!”

Xu Hua’s face flushed crimson; he clearly heard the sound of bones in his grip snapping.

Another slash!

He collapsed to his knees, his knees sinking into the mud, leaving two depressions half a foot deep.

One more slash.

Two slashes.

Xu Hua’s bones shattered, crushed, leaving only a pile of shredded flesh on the ground, blood mingling with rainwater and flowing into the ditch beside him.

Li Rui sheathed his blade; the rain had soaked his clothes completely.

He glanced at Xu Hua, now indistinguishable from the earth.

“Huh.”

He exhaled slowly.

In this battle, he had slain an eighth-rank Bronze Bone cultivator—his first time killing someone above his own level; even his once-unshakable mind felt a faint ripple.

Now that he’d achieved perfection, such things would surely become routine.

He crouched down and carefully searched the body.

“He’s a pauper?”

He’d expected to find valuable items on Xu Hua, a disciple of Huaqing Sect—but he found no elixirs, not even a single silver note or a few taels of loose silver.

Probably Xu Hua had left Huaqing Sect so long ago that all his supplies were long gone.

“Time to go.”

He glanced at the figures moving in the distance—the fight was over.

The rain stopped; droplets dripped steadily from the eaves.

They landed squarely on Liang He’s forehead.

“Phew!”

Liang He sat up abruptly: “Close call—I almost died.”

He’d barely stood when a voice behind him laughed and cursed: “Fuck, you’re learning fast.”

He turned around.

There stood Wu Tu, leaning on his great sword like a cane, his body covered in fresh wounds—he’d been worn out from last night’s battle with the Ghost Ming Sect.

Liang He scratched his head sheepishly.

“Master Wu, I couldn’t fight them.”

Last night, their squad had been ambushed by Ghost Ming Sect members the moment they stepped out; their teammates had been scattered in the chaos.

Liang He was merely a ninth-rank cultivator, with almost no real combat experience.

Yet the opening was pure hell.

So he followed Master Wu’s advice—pretend to be dead.

Fortunately, he’d survived.

Wu Tu wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand: “You’re not bad. Old Li’s judgment’s sharp. I like your attitude. Come by the South City Gambling Den sometime—I’ll buy you drinks.”

When he took to someone, he treated them with genuine sincerity, regardless of age or status.

“Sure!”

Liang He grinned broadly.

Surviving a deadly battle and befriending a senior of high status—

Wasn’t this exactly the plot of those novels?!

Liang He’s eyes lit up.

Could I be the protagonist?!

“Master Wu, you’ll surely be glad you met me today.”

“...”

Wu Tu stared at Liang He with a strange expression.

Is this kid mentally damaged?

He grimaced, his wounds pulling painfully.

“I got royally screwed this time—need at least three months to recover, and I didn’t even get to see that high-level cultivator.”

Lost the wife and broke the spear.

“I should’ve just copied Old Li—stayed in the branch and slept all night.”

Wu Tu grumbled inwardly.

“Could Old Li have foreseen tonight’s outcome? Otherwise, why would he willingly give up such an opportunity?”

“Little He, did your hall master say anything before you left?”

Liang He thought carefully.

“Hall Master Li told me to give him a reason, or he wouldn’t let me come. I said those who accomplish great things must endure trials—he finally agreed to let me go.”

Of course!

Wu Tu wore an expression that said, I knew it would be this way—now that he thought about it, no wonder Li Rui had been hinting all along that he should abandon this mission.

“It’s all my fault for not understanding back then.”

In the martial world, there’s a saying: never reveal the heavenly decree, or the calamity meant for another will fall upon you instead.

That’s what “heavenly decree must not be revealed” means.

So seasoned martial artists speak in riddles—whether one can avoid calamity depends entirely on personal insight.

Wu Tu recalled how Li Rui had once tried to awaken him.

“Old brother, a true gentleman!”

In the Heaven and Earth Alliance’s branch hall.

Dao Xiong stared at a pile of flesh, shattered beyond recognition.

“This mess… is Xu Hua?”

“We found Huaqing Sect’s token—and only one finger bone.”

Kong Xianian: “Good. The Huaqing Sect traitor Xu Hua has been executed.”

The mastermind behind the Ghost Ming Sect has been slain by Jiang Lin, and Liu Tong has returned to the sect to report.

His task was simpler than Liu Tong’s—if he returned too late, the chance for permanent status would be gone for good.

Who cares if it’s really Xu Hua—as long as he can deliver results.

(End of Chapter)