Chapter 196: Beheading and Collecting Corpses

"Is Wang Shuner really that important? Does the sect ancestor Lingxu Zi himself need to show up to save him?"

Chen Guanlou was astonished, unable to understand.

The prison guards hid outside the execution ground, watching the aerial battle above. One side sought to rescue, the other to kill; both sides fought fiercely, evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.

"Such a massive scene—Wang Shuner must not be ordinary, or he has some other backing," Old Zhang said.

Chen Guanlou's hands itched. A group of fourth-, fifth-, even sixth-rank martial artists fighting on the execution ground—he longed to join in, to test his own strength.

Since returning from Hujiacun, he hadn't properly fought yet. He felt he could match a fifth-rank martial artist, but whether he'd win or lose, he'd only know after fighting.

Unfortunately, today's situation left no room for him to act—he could only be a spectator.

"Chief Chen, are we just watching?" Qian Fugui asked, stepping beside him in a whisper.

"What else can we do? Do you think you can rescue him?"

Qian Fugui fell silent immediately.

Xiao Jin clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax. With this much commotion, even if Wang Shuner dies right here or gets snatched away, the higher-ups won't blame us guards. Such accidents—martial artists this powerful—we can only watch. We've done our part."

They'd shouted two feeble orders: Protect Wang Shuner.

Hearing Xiao Jin's words, Qian Fugui finally relaxed.

BOOM!

A sword qi slashed straight toward them.

"Run, now!"

Chen Guanlou led the way toward open ground. The guards had no other skills, but their survival instincts were razor-sharp—they heard "run," turned and fled without looking back, sprinting with every ounce of strength they had.

Barely had they escaped when—CRASH! the spot they'd just left became a massive crater, surrounding buildings reduced to rubble.

This wasn't ninth-rank—this killing power rivaled a missile.

Could one sword slash cut off an entire mountain peak?

Was this truly a high-martial world, or something closer to cultivation?

Chen Guanlou began to deeply doubt the nature of the world he lived in.

The gap between a ninth-rank martial artist and fourth- or fifth-rank ones couldn't be called a chasm—it wasn't even worthy of that word. Only dimension could describe it. Two-dimensional versus three-dimensional, three-dimensional versus four-dimensional… it was a qualitative difference, a dimensional one.

"Are there immortals in this world?" he murmured.

Old Zhang continued, "Legends say there were immortals eight hundred years ago. Then came the Immortal-Demon War—after that, the immortals vanished."

"Eight hundred years ago—that was still the Great Yu Dynasty. Were there really immortals then?"

"That's what the legends say."

Three hundred years ago, the founding emperor of the Great Gan Dynasty overthrew the Great Yu Dynasty and established the Great Gan.

The Great Yu Dynasty, which had lasted nearly a thousand years, was thus extinguished.

"No official records remain?" Chen Guanlou asked, curious.

Old Zhang shook his head. "After the Immortal-Demon War, the Great Yu Dynasty suffered constant calamities. For five hundred years, Yu Capital endured dozens of wars, fell multiple times—most documents and records were lost in the flames."

Sigh.

Chen Guanlou sighed inwardly.

He led the guards far away, ensuring their safety.

In his line of sight, he saw something that shocked him.

Lingxu Zi feinted, broke off combat, and suddenly slashed Wang Shuner's head clean off. The event happened too fast—the city gate troops reacted half a beat too late. That half-beat was all Lingxu Zi's disciples needed: they seized Wang Shuner's head and corpse, broke off the fight, and fled at top speed.

"Pursue!" Old Mo roared. The city gate troops scattered in chase.

In an instant, the vast execution ground fell silent.

The execution platform, once a full story high, was now rubble. The ground around it was pockmarked with craters.

The onlookers were dead or wounded in equal measure.

Chen Guanlou's group of guards, under his leadership, emerged unscathed—not a single injury among them. They were the luckiest of all.

"Wang Shuner is dead," Chen Guanlou whispered to Old Zhang. "His corpse was taken by Lingxu Zi's people."

"You saw it?"

"I saw the gist." Chen Guanlou firmly denied having seen the full sequence. From that distance, seeing clearly would invite interrogation.

Old Zhang fell silent for a moment. "Let's go see the scene."

Chen Guanlou nodded in agreement.

He led the guards to the ruined execution ground.

"Chief Chen, this is Wang Shuner's," Prison guard Liu She picked up a hand.

"Left hand!"

Wang Shuner's left hand, stripped of flesh to bare bone, had broken free from his corpse and landed in a corner of the rubble.

Chen Guanlou instantly felt relief—he now had proof to report.

Just as he ordered the guards to search carefully for more body parts, Xiao Jincheng arrived with a large contingent of Embroidered Uniform Guards, taking over all operations.

Chen Guanlou handed over the bony hand and withdrew decisively.

This matter ran too deep—he had to get out fast!

Who could have guessed the No. 3 rebel leader had such powerful backing? Not only did they openly storm the execution ground, but they also killed and carried off the corpse right under a ninth-rank martial artist's nose.

Killing—he understood.

Silencing him, or sparing him further suffering—he could accept that.

But taking the corpse? That made no sense.

Fleeing, yet dragging a corpse—didn't they want everyone to know they were the ones who stormed the execution ground?

With this heat, the corpse would rot within half a day. The stench couldn't be hidden—how could they escape?

He couldn't figure it out!

The group returned to Tianlao, dusty and grimy.

Deputy Warden Fan learned that the execution ground had been stormed, Wang Shuner was dead, and his corpse stolen—he turned ashen, wailing: "What do we do now? What do we do? Just as I feared, it's happened! Are you certain the attackers weren't rebels?"

"Definitely not rebels. High-rank martial artists on-site identified them—they're led by a man named Lingxu Zi. Wang Shuner called him 'sect ancestor,' and Lingxu Zi called Wang Shuner 'disciple.'"

Deputy Warden Fan sighed in relief. "Good, good—thank heavens they're not rebels."

Then he added: "I must hurry to the Ministry of Justice. Xiao Chen, you and Master Li guard Tianlao—no more accidents."

"My lord, rest assured—no more incidents."

Deputy Warden Fan hurried off.

Chen Guanlou washed up with hot water and changed into a clean uniform.

Master Li had the kitchen prepare two small dishes to help Chen Guanlou calm his nerves.

"I heard it was a ninth-rank martial artist?" Master Li asked.

"I don't know. My meager skills only tell me the intruders were strong—I lack the eye to judge their exact rank." Chen Guanlou always remembered his place: a prison guard who knew a few martial tricks, incapable of discerning true cultivation levels.

"To extract a man safely from a ninth-rank martial artist's battle without a single casualty—that's remarkable."

"Master Li flatters me. Today was pure luck."

"Luck is also skill. Look at the onlookers—dead or wounded. Your entire group returning unharmed? That's extraordinary fortune."

"To heaven's grace, thank heaven for its protection." Chen Guanlou raised his cup decisively and toasted the sky.