Chapter 126: The Hundred Whips Punishment

Ye Lingxi clenched her fists tightly at a distance, her nails digging into her palms.

Wang Teng lay on a stretcher, carried to a place where he could see the square; he watched Jiang Xia’s back as he was punished, tears blurring his vision, his throat emitting choked sobs, wishing he could take the punishment in his place.

Akatsuki Jin, Du Gu Yun, Cui Jue, and others watched silently from afar, their expressions complex; they had been both rivals and allies to Jiang Xia, and now they admired his righteousness.

Qin Miesheng hovered in the air, coldly gazing down at it all, his eyes filled only with ice.

“Ninety-seven!”

“Ninety-eight!”

“Ninety-nine!”

The Qin family elder’s arm had gone numb from striking; he never expected Jiang Xia’s will to be so unyielding—he had endured a hundred Divine Whips without a single cry.

This only stoked his fury further.

“Hundredth lash! Kneel down!”

He gathered all his strength; the Divine Whip’s runes erupted in blinding light, screaming with a soul-rending shriek as it lashed down upon Jiang Xia!

This lash, he intended to shatter Jiang Xia’s spine completely.

“CRACK!!!”

A sound unlike any before!

Jiang Xia’s back was nearly torn apart by the blow; the immense force made his legs buckle, his knees slamming hard onto the blood-slicked ground, yet he thrust his hands down and forced himself upright, refusing to collapse fully.

“Puff!”

He could no longer hold back—a torrent of blood, thick with shattered organs, erupted from his mouth; his breath withered to near nothing, his vision darkened in waves, all that kept him standing was sheer willpower.

The hundred lashes were complete!

At this moment, Jiang Xia’s upper body bore no unbroken flesh—drenched in blood, his breath faint, he knelt prostrate, as if he might die at any instant.

The Qin family elder, still unsatisfied, stepped forward again, but was coldly barred by the commanding general of the Demon Suppression Army: “Military law is concluded! Step back!”

The Qin family elder withdrew sullenly, casting a venomous glance at Jiang Xia.

Qin Miesheng let out a cold snort from the air: “He’s lucky to still be alive! Let’s go!”

The Qin family departed with Qin Miesheng.

The divine pressure faded; the oppressive atmosphere eased slightly.

Immediately, the Demon Suppression Army’s medical team rushed forward, carefully lifting the nearly unconscious Jiang Xia and carrying him off for treatment.

Ye Lingxi and Wang Teng rushed forward at once.

“Old Jiang! Old Jiang!” Wang Teng stared at Jiang Xia’s horrific wounds, his voice trembling, tears streaming down his face.

Jiang Xia weakly opened his eyes, seeing Wang Teng’s anxious face; he twitched his lips, trying to smile, but the motion tore his wounds, triggering violent coughing, blood continuously spilling from his mouth.

“No… no problem… won’t die…” he whispered, his breath barely there, yet his gaze remained resolute, “Fatty… don’t worry… I’ll find… the mayfly spirit core… for Itachi…”

With that, he slipped into complete unconsciousness.

Wang Teng stared at the unconscious Jiang Xia, then touched his own snow-white hair, feeling the incomprehensible weakness within and the terror of life slipping away—a crushing wave of despair and rage surged in his heart.

He clenched his fists so tightly his nails pierced his palms, blood dripping between his fingers.

Power! He needed power—power enough to protect his brother, power enough to defy fate!

He lifted his head, gazing toward the direction of the Underworld; for the first time, eyes that had always held laughter now burned with a cold flame like ghostly hellfire.

In the highest-grade healing chamber of the Demon Suppression Army.

Thick life essence nearly solidified into substance, milky-white mist flowing through the room.

Jiang Xia lay face-down on the central cold jade bed; his grotesque whip wounds were healing at a visible rate, nourished by special spirit medicine and the pure life energy of Elder Mu.

But the damage from the Divine Whip extended far beyond the flesh.

His soul felt torn apart and crudely stitched back together, throbbing with hidden pain; had it not been for the Sharingan’s eye technique boosting his spiritual power, he would have perished outright.

Ye Lingxi stood guard beside him, never leaving his side, gently wiping the cold sweat from his brow with a silk cloth.

Wang Teng sat in a wheelchair nearby, his snow-white hair making him appear ancient; he stared at Jiang Xia’s back—the wounds healing yet still horrifying—and clenched his fists tightly, his eyes filled with guilt.

“It’s all my fault… Old Jiang… if not for me…” Wang Teng’s voice was hoarse and dry.

As if hearing his whisper, Jiang Xia, still unconscious, furrowed his brows and murmured unconsciously: “Fatty… don’t fear… the spirit core… I’ll get it…”

Ye Lingxi gently pressed her hand on Wang Teng’s trembling shoulder and shook her head, her cold eyes also filled with pain: “He needs rest now. Don’t make him worry.”

At that moment, the chamber door opened softly; Qing Yun and Zhao Tianji entered.

Qing Yun’s gaze swept over Jiang Xia’s wounds, a flash of cold light in his eyes, then returned to calm.

“Lord Qing, Elder Zhao.” Ye Lingxi rose and bowed.

Qing Yun waved his hand, walked to the cold jade bed, examined Jiang Xia’s condition, and spoke slowly.

“The physical injuries—thanks to the Demon Suppression Army’s resources and Elder Mu’s intervention—will heal within half a month.”

“But the damage to his soul and foundation requires time to recover; rushing it is impossible.”

He paused, turning to Wang Teng: “As for your lifespan issue, we have leads.”

Wang Teng and Ye Lingxi both perked up instantly.

Zhao Tianji continued: “According to our research and cross-verification, twenty years ago, Shanhai Pass experienced the Shanhai Cataclysm.”

“The previous head of the Qin family—Qin Miesheng’s son—fought a powerful member of the mayfly clan, severely wounding him, yet mysteriously perished at the opponent’s hands.”

“The Qin family is the only known force to have had direct contact with the mayfly clan and to possess partial knowledge of their traits.”

“The Qin family?” Wang Teng’s face darkened instantly. They had just killed Qin Wushang and made a mortal enemy of the Qin family—how could they possibly seek help from them?

Qing Yun seemed to read his thoughts and spoke calmly.

“I personally visited Qin Miesheng and compensated him with two SS-class magic treasures.”

“Though furious, he is a Saint-level being; after weighing the costs, he has agreed to temporarily set this matter aside and ordered Qin family members not to provoke us further.”

“After all, it would be unwise to completely break ties with the Tianji Pavilion, the Demon Suppression Army, the Night Watchers, and other factions quietly aligned with us—over a dead son who was already in the wrong. The Qin family’s future matters more.”

At this moment, within the Qin family.

News reached the Qin family; the family assembly was heavy with tension.

Qin Miesheng sat upon the main seat, his Saintly aura radiating, crushing all beneath him.

His gaze swept over the varied expressions of his clan members, finally settling on Qin Lie—the father of Qin Wushang—whose face was ashen, his eyes filled with venomous hatred.

“This matter ends here.”

Qin Miesheng’s voice carried no emotion: “Wushang’s death was his own doing.”

“Jiang Xia has been punished by military law; this matter is closed. The Qin family’s future focus must be on Qin Hao and Qin Qianjue—they are the pillars of our lineage.”

“No one is to stir up further trouble. Violators will be punished by clan law!”