Chapter 84: You ought to die properly, without regrets! (Please subscribe for first)

Zhuang Buran stood sideways, glancing at the young noble not far away.

"Gong Jiu, show your true skills; don't bring out that strange, useless sword technique again to embarrass yourself."

"If you satisfy me, I could still let you live."

Before Gong Jiu could act, the blood‑stained Ye Gucheng rushed in, Lu Xiaofeng followed, landing on the edge of the hall's ridge.

The onlookers looked doubtful, unaware of what had happened.

"Lord Ye, judging by your appearance, could it be that you've failed again, thwarted by someone?"

"Thanks to you, the imperial guards stationed at the emperor's sleeping palace outnumber those at the Taihe Hall, and they were spotted by many meddling Lu Xiaofengs, forcing a mid‑way withdrawal; the guards didn't pursue me, also because of you."

"Because Lu Xiaofeng knew I was coming to fight you to the death, he let me reach this place safely, so I wouldn't die amidst sword nets, spear forests, and blade mountains."

Ye Gucheng's words immediately made the spectators ponder, their faces growing more astonished, as if they guessed he had secretly rebelled and gone to assassinate the emperor.

Soon after, Gong Jiu spoke calmly:

"Having someone like you in the world truly excites me; in my martial practice, any difficult skill I learn instantly, and any strict place I can come and go freely."

"If I were to kill someone, no matter where they hide or how many protect them, I would never miss."

"Even a master on par with the Four Great Divine Monks couldn't last three moves against me."

"Just bragging."

The red‑clad youth sneered:

"Never mind your earlier joint attack, which left you wounded and dying; only a few survive now, the emperor is inside this Forbidden City—kill someone for me to see."

Immediately, around the Taihe Hall, golden weapons reflected the bright moon, cold light shone on iron armor, and countless strong assaults and powerful crossbows aimed at the hall's ridge.

"Why would I kill the emperor when we have no grudge?" Gong Jiu said calmly.

Zhuang Buran said meaningfully:

"Your status and ambitions should drive you to have this thought."

Upon hearing this, Ye Gucheng couldn't help but look at Gong Jiu, only to notice a noble aura about him, reminiscent of his own disciple, the Heir of the Prince of Pingnan.

"No wonder people in the jianghu say you don't look like a blind man." Gong Jiu remained calm.

"Stop the nonsense, make your move." The red‑clad youth said, hands behind his back.

"At this moment, the Baiyun City Master surely wouldn't think of joining forces with you."

Gong Jiu said no more, unleashing his secret sword art, the Red Dragon Sealing Snow Sword; his sword speed surpassed before, his moves vicious and unpredictable, impossible to defend against, its power in some aspects even exceeding the Heavenly Flying Immortal.

Zhuang Buran did not counterattack, merely dodging left and right, easily evading.

Gong Jiu's left hand fingers suddenly split, spreading like an orchid, and he flicked them toward the red‑clad youth.

With a "hiss," a finger strike drew blood from Gong Jiu's left hand; after being wounded, he actually showed excitement, his sword intent intensifying like a violent storm.

His left hand, unhindered by the injury, swept out in a circle, storing firm power internally while displaying softness externally, appearing as a light pat.

"Your soft palm technique surpasses even the Wood Daoist's; it must be the Bone‑Melting Soft Palm."

"This extremely difficult yin‑toxic art makes those struck by the Bone‑Melting Soft Palm feel nothing at first, but after two hours the power erupts, turning their bones soft as cotton, breaking them inch by inch, rupturing organs—horrific and untreatable."

Zhuang Buran chatted and laughed, never delaying his dodging of incoming attacks.

Seeing the Bone‑Melting Soft Palm fail, Gong Jiu's hand suddenly swelled over double, tinged with purple‑red, and he struck out again with great force.

"The Great Hand Seal!"

The red‑clad youth's voice hinted at regret:

"Although you're a genius, able to master any martial art quickly and reach proficiency, you've still not reached the peak of perfection."

As he finished speaking, his surrounding energy surged; with a casual wave, dozens of sword qi surged toward Gong Jiu.

In an instant, a sword light flashed; man and blade seemed one, the light like a silk ribbon, a flying rainbow—truly the Heavenly Flying Immortal.

Yet this sword seemed to expend everything, a full‑power strike that blazed brilliantly, even outshining the moon above.

"Baiyun City Master, sometimes you really don't spare sneak attacks and scheming." Zhuang Buran shook his head, laughing, and leapt up.

"By now, means don't matter; if I could cut down the madman with one sword, I'd be happier than killing the emperor."

The sword light chased like a flashing rainbow, but the red‑clad youth descended halfway, his white hair unfurling, thousands of strands curving into an arc like a white feather, lightly supporting him in midair.

His body rose with wind, actually riding the gale, continually retreating in midair; even if Ye Gucheng exhausted all his strength, this sword had reached its limit.

Zhuang Buran unleashed his overwhelming inner force, first snapping Ye Gucheng's sword with a finger flick, then striking his chest with a fist, blasting him away to crash heavily to the ground.

"I don't usually like to see people through, but for the Baiyun City Master I'll make an exception—I can't bear to watch you die giving your all."

The red‑clad youth hovered like a demon, speaking calmly:

"This is the Emperor's Qi Observation Technique; I send you on your way—may you die fittingly, without regret!"

As Ye Gucheng lay dying, he seemed to hear it, the corner of his mouth twitching, then his breath ceased.

Meanwhile, Gong Jiu on the ridge bled profusely; though a wave of dozens of sword qi could only be avoided at vital points, this injury instead heightened his energy, his face showing growing excitement, a sense of growing braver with each wound.

"If things in the world were too easy to obtain, it would indeed breed problems; your masochistic tendency, I truly cannot cure."

Zhuang Buran's aura rose, and he suddenly appeared before Gong Jiu; a finger point froze the young noble's body, a blood hole appeared on his forehead, blood flowed out, and he collapsed to the ground.

The red‑clad youth, with a breath, arrived beside Niuroutang.

"You've just been watching from the sidelines—what's your intention?"

"Because I'm not like Gong Jiu and the others—I've never been one to seek excitement." Niuroutang replied truthfully.

"Besides, the old man appreciates you greatly, once saying that if you wished, you could become famous before fifteen."

The red‑clad youth lowered his gaze, asking softly:

"I hear you're skilled at cooking?"

"I wouldn't say I'm skilled; I just like it more, and the old man often says I'm lazy and averse to work, not devoted to martial practice."

Niuroutang changed the subject, smiling:

"But my soup‑making skill truly is unmatched; Master Hua might also be tired—let me prepare a meal for you, guaranteed to satisfy."

"Your lively and clever nature reminds me of an old friend."

Zhuang Buran slowly rose into the sky, glancing at Ximen Chuixue:

"I await the day you truly become a Sword God."

After saying that, his aura grew fiercer, he rose into the air and vanished from everyone's sight.

Only seen among the crowd at the edge of the hall's ridge, there was a woman dressed as a butcher; she curled her lips and thought:

"It turns out the fickle little thief likes this kind of obedient, well‑behaved little girl."

(End of chapter)