Chapter 218

Wu Lao Da responded in a loud voice.

He, when seizing the girl on Piaomiao Peak, had already figured it out: if he couldn't subdue the opponent in one move, giving her a chance to call out, he would immediately jump from the peak several hundred zhang high to kill himself, to avoid falling into the hands of the Tian Shan Tonglao and suffering torment.

Moreover, the reason the Island Masters and Cave Masters call Wu Lao Da a hero is that these people have been enslaved by Tian Shan Tonglao for many years, fearing her like a tiger; daring to seize someone on Piaomiao Peak is an extraordinarily brave act, and it is not, as A Zi said, mere boasting.

Therefore, this rebellion concerns the lives of hundreds; it must not be taken lightly in the slightest, and we must ensure that no one harbors second thoughts.

Wu Lao Da raised his voice and said: "Brothers, Feng Yi truly has perceptive insight; this little girl, though young, is ultimately a person of Piaomiao Peak. Since we have decided to kill the old hag, please everyone draw your weapons and slash or stab this girl."

It's not that we are cruel; rather, we all must drink her blood at the blade's tip to show our resolve to be irreconcilable with Piaomiao Peak. Even if someone remains half-hearted, we cannot allow them to shrink back.

Duan Yu, burning with righteous indignation, was about to speak when Feng Yi stopped him; then he saw a burly man turn around, stagger on his feet, and rush outward.

Wu Lao Da grunted and shouted: "District Island Master of Swordfish Island, where are you going?" That person gave no reply; his movement was extremely swift, and in the blink of an eye he had gone around the mountain hollow.

Everyone shouted: "This man is cowardly, trying to flee the battle—quickly seize him!"

In an instant, more than ten people rushed out, but whether they could catch him was uncertain; Wu Lao Da could not help but wring his hands repeatedly, blaming himself greatly.

Suddenly a miserable cry rang out; recognizing the voice as that of the District Island Master, no one knew who had done it, and everyone doubted, while the pursuers also halted their steps.

All that could be heard was the howling wind; a round object shot out from behind the mountain hollow, skimmed midair, and fell into the crowd.

Wu Lao Da leapt up and caught the round object in his hand; in the lamplight he saw clearly that it was a bloody, mutilated head, features and bristles splayed, eyes wide open—it was the head of the District Island Master who had just fled.

Wu Lao Da's face changed drastically, and he trembled, "District Island Master..." He turned his head to look at Feng Yi, Murong Fu, and the others, then looked again at the crowd—all wore looks of fear.

They thought the plot had been exposed and that Tian Shan Tonglao had arrived, but then they heard Bu Ping Dao Ren burst into laughter: "The Sword God's divine sword truly lives up to its name, Brother Zhuo, you've guarded it tightly!"

From behind the mountain hollow came a clear voice saying: "Those who desert in battle shall be punished by all, to prevent leakage of information. Cave Masters and Island Masters, please do not blame."

It turned out to be the "Sword God" who had earlier responded to Bu Ping Dao Ren from three or four li away; no one knew when he had arrived nearby and blocked the retreat, and the crowd immediately shouted in approval, thinking: "Fortunately the Sword God has eliminated the traitor, or else our plan would be ruined."

Murong Fu and his followers, however, thought: "This person who calls himself the 'Sword God' is surely too arrogant; no matter how high his swordsmanship, how could he style himself a 'god'? No such figure has ever been heard of in the jianghu, though we do not know how superb his swordsmanship really is."

Wu Lao Da, feeling that every plant and tree was an enemy and ashamed, shouted: "Then let's swear allegiance by drinking this girl's blood!" He at once gripped his ghost-head blade in hand,

All present shouted in unison: "Good, that's exactly right! We'll swear allegiance by drinking blood, from now on there's no retreat, we'll fight the old hag to the bitter end."

The crowd looked at the girl as if she were a chicken or a dog; Duan Yu saw her shrink into a trembling ball, sobbing, a surge of blood churning in his chest, and he shouted: "No, this must not happen, Brother Feng, Lord Murong, you must quickly stop this atrocity!"

Feng Yi remained silent; Murong Fu, seeing his bearing, recalled his own repeated setbacks and felt that today he was no different, and he felt uplifted, saying: "Brother Duan, their lives and fortunes are wholly tied to this undertaking; how can we outsiders meddle recklessly?"

Duan Yu, seeing the girl's pitiful weeping, felt his righteous indignation flare; he gritted his teeth and said: "A true man, when he sees injustice, draws his sword to help; Miss Wang, even if you blame me, I will surely intervene……"

Before he could finish speaking, Wu Lao Da swung his blade and chopped down at the girl inside the cloth sack.

Duan Yu shouted, extended his finger, and unleashed the "Zhongchong Sword" toward Wu Lao Da's ghost-head blade. Yet his Six Meridians Divine Sword depends entirely on whether his mind is fully committed; sometimes his true qi surges, giving boundless power, sometimes his inner strength cannot be summoned at all.

His heart of righteous courage ultimately could not overcome his deep affection for Wang Yuyan; as he thrust this sword, his true qi reached only his palm and could not be projected outward.

Wu Lao Da had originally thought Duan Yu's lightness skill was excellent and his martial arts certainly not poor, and he truly feared the man would cause trouble, so he struck first to avoid later complications; who knew this person would indeed intervene, but his finger pokes were utterly ineffective, and he had no idea what trick the man was playing.

Duan Yu watched as the blade was about to fall on the girl, feeling anxious yet helpless, when he heard a clang.

Wu Lao Da felt heat in his tiger's mouth; his blade flew from his hand, he lost his footing, and the force dragged him back three steps. Fearing a follow‑up move, he flung himself to the ground, rolled over and over, and when he rose he was covered in dust and utterly disheveled.

Suddenly the crowd saw a shadow flash, and another person appeared on the scene; with a right‑hand move he snatched the child together with the sack and lifted him aloft.

When his face became clear, only Duan Yu felt excited, while everyone else frowned deeply, actually showing worry.

The one who made the move was none other than Feng Yi.

Wu Lao Da seethed with anger, coldly staring at Feng Yi, and said: "What do you mean by this?"

"Can't you see?" Feng Yi said lightly: "You are not allowed to kill her!"

Wu Lao Da, unable to contain his fury, glanced at the suave Murong Fu and his retinue standing to the side, who regarded him coldly.

Bu Ping Dao Ren stroked his long beard, appearing inscrutable.

Wu Lao Da indeed feared Feng Yi's martial prowess, yet also dreaded the power of Tian Shan Tonglao's Life‑Death Talisman; he could not help raising his voice and asking again: "Master Bu Ping, Lord Murong, may I ask your opinion?"

Murong Fu remained silent; Deng BaiChuan and the others, though they followed Murong Fu's lead, were also dissatisfied with attacking a girl, and having seen Duan Yu shout and cry, they felt ashamed, so since Feng Yi had rescued the girl they naturally would not speak against it, merely giving a cold snort.

This Bu Ping Dao Ren, who styles himself the "Flood Dragon King", is highly skilled in martial arts, and having just spoken of drawing his sword to help, for a moment hundreds of eyes turned to his face.

Bu Ping Dao Ren coughed and said: "Hero Feng, to be frank, disposing of this girl does indeed run contrary to the chivalrous way, but you have also heard of Tian Shan Tonglao's atrocities; this girl's single life surely cannot outweigh the many heroes gathered here, can it?"

Feng Yi sighed: "Bu Ping Dao Ren, you merely want to kill Tian Shan Tonglao and obtain the Life‑Death Talisman so you can continue to control the Thirty‑Six Caves and Seventy‑Two Islands. Hear my advice: do not let greed lead you astray from the great Dao, or when you finally return west you will have no crane to ride."

Everyone was startled; Bu Ping Dao Ren's face flushed with a blue aura, and he shouted sternly: "How could there be such a thing?"

Bao Butong, being straightforward, could not help but say: "I just suspected you, old man, of harboring nefarious schemes; it turns out you're after being a master!"

Feng Bo'e also burst out laughing; Bu Ping Dao Ren's old face turned a deep purplish hue, and Murong Fu waved his hand, causing Bao Butong and Feng Yi to stop laughing.

The heroes all gazed at Bu Ping Dao Ren, some with hostile looks. Their reason for rebelling against Tian Shan Tonglao was their unwillingness to be restrained; if another person still held the Life‑Death Talisman, what would be the point of their rebellion?

Bu Ping Dao Ren blazed with anger; he had few rivals in his life and was already a renowned master of the jianghu, and hearing Bao Butong slight him, he felt he had to establish his authority, and with a "hei" he snapped: "Hero Feng, all the heroes present hold you in such esteem; if you have any humanity, you ought to repay kindness with gratitude, but who knew your petty heart would bully others so outrageously—I, your humble Daoist, will teach you a few moves!"

His body swayed, and the inner force of his whisk spread everywhere; the silver threads, like a hungry tiger lashing its tail, swooshed toward Feng Yi.

Feng Yi gave a light laugh and said, "Good!" Before the sound faded, his whisk "whooshed" apart, spreading like icy stars across the sky, covering Feng Yi's vital chest points and emitting a faint hissing.

Murong Fu had been watching all this closely; seeing Bu Ping Dao Ren's move, he indeed found it extraordinary, no wonder he dared to treat the masters of the Thirty‑Six Caves and the Island Lords of the Seventy‑Two Islands with contempt.

But see, Feng Yi held the girl in one hand, flicked his sleeve, and surged forth like clouds and mist; with a "pah" Bu Ping Dao Ren was shaken, his whisk nearly flew from his grasp, yet even so, the whisk had been disturbed by the sleeve wind, and its silver threads swept back toward his face.

Bu Ping Dao Ren hastily lowered his head, not expecting the whisk to sweep over his crown, scattering his hair bun and making his scalp go numb.

Even so, Bu Ping Dao Ren, though defeated, was not disordered; he shook his wrist, solidified his whisk into a straight rod, lunged again at Feng Yi's chest, and simultaneously thrust his left palm forward.

Feng Yi, seeing that he did not know his limits, gave a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and with a light sound already entangled the whisk, sending his inner force surging along the sleeve.

Bu Ping Dao Ren instantly felt a mountain‑overturning, sea‑overturning force surge toward him; he flipped backward in a somersault, landed, clutched his chest, his face flushed blood‑red, staggering like a drunkard, he retreated several steps, his legs gave way, and he sat down on the ground.

Onlookers saw Feng Yi's move as ordinary, yet Bu Ping Dao Ren was defeated just like that, and nobody failed to be astonished.

Murong Fu felt even more suffocated in his chest; he reckoned that in a fair fight with Bu Ping Dao Ren he could perhaps win, but not quickly, whereas Feng Yi with a mere flick of his sleeve caused Bu Ping Dao Ren to vomit blood and be injured—if his inner strength were divine, it would simply be unreasonable.

Deng BaiChuan and the others looked even more toward Wang Yuyan, hoping to gain some insight from her,

In fact, Wang Yuyan is no different from the others; she deeply knows that Feng Yi's inner strength is profound and his movements lightning‑fast, every gesture of his impossible to match—this technique is simply not recorded in the books.

Moreover, his palm wind harbors a cold poison, and he possesses marvelous techniques she cannot discern; none of her learning applies.

In fact, Wang Yuyan does not know that Feng Yi has completely dispelled the poison of the ice silkworm; when he acts, unless he deliberately displays it, his inner strength will no longer contain any chill.

Feng Yi gave a slight nod to Bu Ping Daoist, faced the crowd, held up the girl, and said: "Old Wu, if you say a word, this girl is the Tian Shan Tong Lao; to kill her and drink blood as an oath—I won't interfere!"

He also understood well that it's unwise to defy public opinion, and this group were desperate, merely trying to force their way out with martial strength, which would only cause more casualties; therefore, unless absolutely necessary, he did not wish to open a massacre.

Upon hearing this, the crowd was both startled and anxious; a hush fell over the scene, and Old Wu angrily retorted: "You speak lightly—if I had the ability to capture the Tian Shan Tong Lao, would I make her a slave? Do you really think I, Old Wu, am born to be despised?"

Feng Yi's demeanor was strange; he suddenly smiled and said: "Fine, you have your reasons, I have mine—this is what they call different paths, no cooperation! Farewell!"

Saying this, he remained rooted, gliding forward over ten feet, one hand holding A Zi, the other carrying the girl, and walked outward.

Old Wu frowned tightly, silent, seeming somewhat unsettled. Someone in the crowd couldn't help but say: "Old Wu, are you really just going to let him leave like that?"

Old Wu raised his brows and said: "Heaven and earth may be vast, but nothing outweighs a single principle. We have never provoked you, yet you insist on taking away those we captured—what kind of reasoning is this?"

Feng Yi calmly replied: "If you can seize people from the Piaomiao Peak, I can take them from here—that's the principle!"

The more Old Wu listened, the angrier he grew, shouting loudly: "No room for talk—either way it's death; let's unite and rebel against Piaomiao Peak, first seize Feng Yi!" In an instant everyone drew their weapons; some had already blocked Feng Yi's path, while a few rash fellows shouted loudly and charged at him.

Feng Yi gave a long laugh, then, still holding A Zi and carrying the girl, he strode straight into the thicket of blades and swords.

Seeing his arrogant bearing, the crowd thought he feared no one; they immediately swung knives and swords together, hoping to chop him into mincemeat. Bystanders assumed that even if they couldn't wound Feng Yi and A Zi, the girl would surely die.

Who would have known that when the wielders of those blades struck within a foot of Feng Yi and the two others, it felt as if they had hit an incredibly soft qi wall; everyone felt their palms heat up, with a whooshing sound, and the knives and swords all flew from their hands.

In an instant, those who had attacked found their hands empty, staggered sideways and backward, retreating repeatedly.

The onlookers witnessing this scene all turned into wooden statues like dumb geese; such divine abilities were practically an immortal walking among mortals.

Where in the world could one find such martial arts?

Wang Yuyan softly said: "I've heard that the Shaolin Temple possesses a skill called the Diamond Indestructible Divine Skill; when mastered to a high level, it can form a protective qi around the entire body, making weapons and fists unable to approach."

At that moment, amidst utter silence, Wang Yuyan's words reached everyone's ears, and they all thought: "Could he be from the Shaolin Temple?"

Feng Yi naturally heard it too, and merely smiled: "I must say, if I were to fight you, it would be bullying the weak with strength—quite pointless. Everyone, go about your own business!"

As his words fell, a short man suddenly burst from the crowd, each hand gripping a huge hammer the size of a dou; he struck the hammers together inward with a deafening clang, sparks flying, and shouted: "If you have the skill, take one of my hammer blows!" The twin hammers fell together, emitting a fierce roar, smashing toward Feng Yi; this move, "Splitting Heaven and Earth," was astonishingly powerful.

=9+book bar

This man's pair of giant iron hammers already weighed far over a hundred catties, and with divine strength he wielded them; everyone held their breath, watching how Feng Yi would respond.

This wasn't just his own strength; the hammers' unique weight and nature meant that when they came down, the force was immense—if struck, one would surely suffer torn tendons and broken bones.

If Feng Yi could still deflect them with his true qi, there would be no need to fight; intent on leaving, any number of attackers would be in vain.

Seeing the twin hammers approach in a crossed attack, a fierce gust of wind surged toward his and the girl's chests, its momentum and power unmatched; he even exclaimed "Good!"

He naturally would not again use true qi to bluntly resist; he loosened his left hand from A Zi and lightly flicked his sleeve.

With a soft "hiss," his finger strike pierced the void, wondrously precise to the minutest degree; the hammer-wielder felt his chest's "Shanzhong point" go numb, he collapsed limp to the ground, his iron hammers dropping with a clang that rang like thunder, leaving everyone's ears ringing.

Feng Yi's finger had just found its mark; his feet did not pause as he stepped onto a ridge, when suddenly a white light flashed and a figure shot out like a bird, incredibly swift—Duan Yu exclaimed: "Brother Feng, be careful!"

A Zi felt a chilling pressure; she brandished her variegated longsword, laying it across the path. Looking closely, she saw the sword-bearer dressed in a green robe, about fifty, with flowing long beard, a refined visage, who smiled and said: "Old man, you dare block the way—do you also want a beating?"

Feng Yi's thoughts turned, and he asked: "Are you Zhuo Bu Fan?"

The newcomer didn't even get to speak before Bu Ping Daoist interjected: "Brother Zhuo, though you're called the Sword God, I fear you're no match for them—better not invite suffering!"

Upon hearing this, everyone was moved; it turned out he was the Sword God who had just slain the traitor—since he bears the title "Sword God," he might be a worthy opponent for Feng Yi.

"This Sword God elder brother!" Bao Tong shouted at the top of his voice: "Since you're hailed as the god of swords, no matter how formidable Feng Yi is, he's still just a man—surely taking him down will be easy; let us open our eyes!"

Upon hearing the title "Sword God," he grew angry, feeling it was nothing more than a frog in a well self-proclaiming grandeur; if he were truly that mighty, the martial world would have known his name.

Zhuo Bu Fan's face turned iron-blue; he coldly replied: "Mr. Bao, if you wish to give instruction, this old man will accompany you at any time!"

Bao Tong laughed: "Come on, come on, I'm not afraid—" He hadn't finished speaking when Murong Fu stopped him.

Zhuo Bu Fan held his sword across his chest and said in a deep voice: "Senior Feng, I have an improper request."

Feng Yi replied indifferently: "Since it's an improper request, why bother saying it? I have other matters—move aside!"

Zhuo Bu Fan, furious, burst into a laugh: "Do you know that under heaven, no one dares speak to me like this?"

Having uttered such wild words, everyone was shocked and doubtful; Murong Fu also furrowed his brow, thinking: "Is he a lunatic? Or does he truly possess peerless ability, so he doesn't even regard Feng Yi?"

Feng Yi found it amusing, staring at Zhuo Bu Fan from head to toe.

A Zi didn't wait for his answer, giggling: "Old man, you haven't seen me before, but today you have—what do you want?"

Bao Tong added with a cold sneer: "No, no, this fellow merely claims to be invincible under heaven—hah, I think he's boasting without basis; I know every top martial artist, and there's certainly no one like you among them."

Zhuo Bu Fan smiled lightly and said: "Top martial artists under heaven? Are you referring to your lord 'Southern Murong,' or that whatever 'Northern Qiao Feng'?"

Feng Yi gave a slight smile, then said: "I must say, Zhuo Bu Fan's arrogant demeanor is something I have never seen even among countless masters."

Even famed masters like the New and Old Five Absolutes, Qiao Feng, and Huang Shang, taken together, are not as arrogant as he is.

It's no wonder that in the original plot, before Xu Zhu he showed off, wanting to arrange on the spot for Wang Yuyan to marry him in a wedding ceremony—since he never regarded Murong Fu as a person, saying this now makes sense.

But hasn't he seen what happened to Bu Ping Daoist? What gall does he have to oppose me? This makes Feng Yi quite curious. Anyway, this trip is just for fun, so let's watch his performance and see what tricks he can pull off!

However, this angered Murong Fu's side; Feng Bao'e immediately shouted: "Good! Let Feng first receive the Sword God's high techniques!" As he spoke, he brandished his single blade to charge forward, but Murong Fu reached out and stopped him.

Only then did Murong Fu speak loudly: "According to your meaning, this is not arrogance of being invincible under heaven, but a firm belief in being invincible under heaven."

"In my Murong Fu's eyes, only Senior Feng can be called invincible; I therefore ask Great Sword God Zhuo to display his skill—if he wins, Murong Fu will surely feel ashamed, and I suspect Qiao Feng would also have to submit!"

Zhuo Bu Fan's brows were frosted over; he waved his hand and said: "Don't interrupt!"

Seeing Zhuo Bu Fan's domineering attitude toward Murong Fu, Bao Tong snorted coldly: "No, no—if you're afraid, just kowtow; are you also afraid they'll take your life, old man?"

"'Afraid?'" Zhuo Bu Fan laughed heartily, swayed forward, and shook his long sword; suddenly a half-foot-long wavering blue gleam appeared at the tip, like a serpent stretching and contracting.

The assembled heroes instantly felt the sword light fill their vision, and more than ten cried out in unison: "Sword aura! Sword aura!"

Murong Fu also furrowed his brow, his eyes fixed on Zhuo Bu Fan, thinking: "This old fellow really does have some skill."

Upon hearing the crowd's cheers, Zhuo Bu Fan grew even more elated, laughing loudly; he drew a breath of true qi into his dantian, waved his sword, and the blue flare surged—with a swish, a thick-trunked tree was felled outright.

Seeing him fell a large tree with a soft longsword, everyone could see the true power infused in the blade—truly extraordinary; the heroes, who had long been suppressed by Feng Yi's divine skill, suddenly witnessed this godlike technique and burst into thunderous applause.

Zhuo Bu Fan flicked his wrist; the sword light swept past, the trunk split into three sections; he then lifted the middle piece with his sword, shaking out blossoms of sword light, and with a few hisses, the round log was evenly divided into nine parts.

"'Eh!' Wang Yuyan exclaimed softly, a flicker of surprise on her face: 'Is this the Zhou Gong Sword?'"

"'Miss, you have keen eyesight!' Zhuo Bu Fan laughed and said: 'Indeed, it is the Zhou Gong Sword!'"

While he was swinging his sword, he still heard Wang Yuyan speak; these few moves, with their wonderful technique and precise control, had already left those left-path practitioners who kill without blinking utterly shocked and stunned.

Some people couldn't help but think that this person's swordsmanship had already reached the pinnacle of perfection, and must be a formidable rival of Feng Yi.

But Wang Yuyan softly said, 'This Old Master Zhu must be a senior expert of the One-Character Wisdom Sword Sect from Fujian Jianyang.'

Actually, Feng Yi only needed to hear that one sentence to know Zhu Bu Fan's skill level, which was actually insignificant, because his sword moves had already been seen clearly by Wang Yuyan.

Zhu Bu Fan withdrew his sword, the sword light converging, glanced at Feng Yi, and said in a low voice, 'With this sword technique of mine, can I kill the Tianshan Tonglao?'

"What?"

Feng Yi hadn't yet realized it,

He simply thought that Zhu Bu Fan's sword demonstration was meant to give him a benefit, like teaching him sword techniques; when he became interested, he would play a prank saying he liked Wang Yuyan and asking Zhu Bu Fan to steal her for him, but he never expected Zhu Bu Fan to actually say that.

Then he saw A Zi, hands behind her back, speaking solemnly: 'Oh, so this Tianshan Tonglao is just a wooden person; these people treat wood as slaves, which is truly worthless!'

At this moment she possessed the Northern Dark True Qi, and having received Feng Yi's explanation of the profundities of martial arts, her vision and insight were unlike before; she thus felt that Zhu Bu Fan's swordsmanship was flashy but impractical, merely nice to look at.

But seeing Zhu Bu Fan's face darken as he glared at her, he chuckled and said, 'You look so full of hatred and grief; could it be that your whole family died?'

Although Zhu Bu Fan was usually composed, he now felt a surge of anger rush to his head, and he shouted fiercely, 'Indeed, my One-Character Wisdom Sword Sect lost sixty-two members across three generations; thirty-three years ago, the Tianshan Tonglao wiped them all out!'

Everyone's hearts sank, all thinking, 'This person is helping us in order to avenge his sect's great grudge.'

Then he saw Zhu Bu Fan shake his long sword, point it at Feng Yi, and say slowly, 'What do you think, should this grudge be avenged?'

Feng Yi smiled and nodded: 'It should be avenged! Your sword technique can also kill the Tianshan Tonglao; here, take it, go kill!'

He directly handed the girl in his hand to him.

(End of chapter)