Chapter 74: Rushing to [Please Follow and Collect]

Unfortunately, I’ll never see Brother Xia again!

If he knew I’m dead, would he cry?

Ji Wenyue stared at the sword blade glinting coldly in the rain, feeling no fear of death—only an unspeakable regret and sorrow.

The family’s relocation coincided with Xia Daoming’s long journey, leaving her no chance to say goodbye.

This had always been her heart’s regret.

But now it would become a permanent one!

“Wenyue, run!”

Ji Wenbin and Ji Wennan, having recovered, charged forward again.

But Ji Wenyue stood frozen, eyes wide, fixed on the familiar figure sprinting across the treetops, leaping high into the air like a coiling dragon, stabbing toward Xu Zhicheng’s back.

Xu Zhicheng suddenly sensed danger, whirled around, and raised his sword to meet the black-masked assailant.

“No!”

Seeing Xu Zhicheng turn and strike at the masked man, Ji Wenyue burst into tears, screaming wildly as she charged forward with her blade.

How could her Brother Xia possibly stand against Xu Zhicheng?

“Wenyue!”

Ji Wenbin and Ji Wennan paused in surprise, then spotted the masked man and immediately swung their blades toward Xu Zhicheng.

“Die!” The middle-aged seventh-rank martial master overseeing the battle roared, leaping into the air and slashing toward Ji Wenyue and the others.

The three were blocked!

“Clang!”

Sword met spear tip.

A terrifying force surged through Xu Zhicheng’s arm.

His entire arm felt like it would explode; his grip split open, blood oozing, barely holding onto his sword.

“Who are you? Why…?” Xu Zhicheng gasped, retreating swiftly while screaming.

But the man gave no answer—he followed like a shadow, relentless in pursuit.

An invisible, icy killing intent locked onto Xu Zhicheng; his bones chilled, his guts trembled, and he bolted blindly into the crowd fighting the Ji family.

“Stop him! Stop him!” Xu Zhicheng screamed in terror.

This man’s strength surpassed even his elder brother, the sole Grand Master of the Xu family, in his prime.

And Xu Zhicheng, past seventy, his vital energy and strength long decayed, was a mere shadow of his former self.

Had the opponent been able to shape his force into form, he would have been dead already in that hasty clash.

Even so, that sudden strike had already damaged his meridians—he dared not face him again in direct combat.

“Boom!”

“Ssshh!”

“Ahh!”

Xia Daoming, spear in hand, plunged into the crowd with Xu Zhicheng—no one could stand before him.

His spear shot forth like a dragon, cutting through ranks, men falling, bodies littering the ground.

The fallen either had blood holes in their chests, or their torsos were ripped open, chests deformed.

The former died from direct spear thrusts; the latter had their ribs shattered and hearts burst from sweeping blows—testimony to the sheer terror of his power.

In an instant, no one remained before Xia Daoming.

His spear stabbed straight toward Xu Zhicheng’s back.

Xu Zhicheng had no choice but to turn and fight.

“Clang! Clang!”

Only two clashes.

Xu Zhicheng’s sword flew from his hand.

The spear surged forward with unstoppable momentum.

Xu Zhicheng raised his tiger claws, fingers gleaming like metal, grasping for the spear shaft.

Xia Daoming sneered, driving the spear forward—no clever twists, no serpent-like maneuvers.

Both were eighth-rank, but their force differed vastly.

No need for finesse—just crush him outright!

“Squeak!”

Xu Zhicheng’s twin tiger claws gripped the spear shaft—one before, one behind.

Yet the shaft still scraped through, emitting a piercing screech.

“Ssshh!”

The spear tip pierced Xu Zhicheng’s chest.

His eyes bulged wide; his hands clung desperately to the shaft as blood gushed from his mouth.

“Who… are you?” Xu Zhicheng gasped.

“Riiiip!”

The answer was the sound of the spear being torn from his body.

“Kill! Kill! Leave none alive!” Seeing this sudden powerhouse kill Xu Zhicheng in moments, the Ji family surged with renewed vigor, eyes red, slashing wildly at the remaining Xu men.

Half of the Xu martial masters had already fallen trying to block Xia Daoming.

Now seeing Xu Zhicheng dead, they were utterly terrified, turning to flee in all directions.

Even the middle-aged seventh-rank martial master who had just fiercely blocked Ji Wenyue and the others now turned pale with fear, slashed fiercely to drive back the three, then kicked off the ground, splashing mud and water, sprinting wildly toward the ancestral hall.

This man, a seventh-rank martial master, remained composed despite the shock.

The Ding family and others were still slaughtering Ji family youths over there!

If he reached the ancestral hall, he could use them to delay this sudden powerhouse—and use the powerhouse to kill off members of the three-family alliance.

A perfect two birds, one stone!

The man’s plan was excellent.

Unfortunately, he still underestimated Xia Daoming’s speed.

Like a dragon soaring, a serpent gliding.

In the rain, only a shadow streaked across the earth, leaving a trail of mist like a phantom.

Running through the rain, he hurled his short spear like a javelin.

A chilling killing intent pierced through him, carrying a force like a mountain collapsing and sea surging.

The seventh-rank martial master turned pale, abandoning his straight sprint, veering sideways.

But almost instantly, another piercing strike slammed toward his sidestepping path.

With no time to change tactics, he spun around and slashed at the hurtling spear.

“Clang!”

A thunderous crash.

Sparks flew.

The spear was deflected.

The seventh-rank martial master’s grip split open, his sword nearly flying from his hand.

But he paid no heed to the pain—he pushed backward with the recoil.

Yet in that pause, that turn, that defense, water splashed before his eyes.

Through the curtain of rain, a black shadow suddenly loomed in his pupils.

A fist shaped like a serpent’s head slashed toward his chest.

“Kill!”

The seventh-rank martial master roared, swinging his sword at the serpent fist.

But the fist was faster—before the sword could reach it, the fist twisted into a serpent’s fang, striking his wrist.

A searing pain of broken bone shot up his arm.

His sword clattered to the ground.

Almost instantly, another serpent fist erupted from below, striking his chest again.

He raised his other hand, tiger claws flaring in desperate defense.

At the moment of impact, a terrifying hidden force exploded like a mountain flood.

“Crack!”

The seventh-rank martial master’s arm shattered on the spot.

“Boom!”

Before he could even feel the pain of the fracture, agony erupted in his chest—he collapsed backward, eyes bulging, staring in disbelief that he could die like this.

He was among the most promising third-generation youths of his family, destined to become an Elder.

He’d thought this pursuit of the Ji family would be a trial—and a chance to profit.

Instead, he was killed in three blows in this ruined, deserted mountain village, with no chance to fight back.

PS: Four chapters today, ten thousand characters. New book, please follow and collect. Also, help recommend to fellow readers.