Chapter 78: Anger Accumulated Within, Return to the Peak

Captains carried the two men up the low slope.

Such a commotion must have drawn the deputy commanders rushing over, but it ended too quickly… truly too fast to believe.

As expected.

Just as they reached the top, Hong Lei and Zhao Kanglin arrived with dozens of men in a throng.

“What happened?” Hong Lei’s eyelid twitched.

“There was a major incident… but now there isn’t.”

Wang Meng couldn’t explain the situation clearly in a few words, so he kept carrying the men upward.

Several captains chattered excitedly—sword energy, black blades…

Hong Lei took a long time to piece together what had occurred.

His expression grew complex.

In fact, when he saw Dai Bing’s severe injuries, he’d already guessed part of it.

But he couldn’t quite understand.

He had clearly instructed Shen Yi to watch her.

How had the woman ended up like this… and why was a steward dressed in official robes bound with her?

The Qingfeng Mountain stewards weren’t easy targets.

Even he himself would struggle to gain the upper hand against them.

“Deputy Commander, what do we do with them?” Wang Meng dropped the men to the ground.

Hearing this, Zhao Kanglin coldly said: “It’s already a time of crisis—no need to follow protocol and waste manpower guarding them. This one nearly killed a comrade; since he’s an inside traitor, execute them both!”

Hong Lei frowned at him, then turned and asked: “Was Shen Yi injured?”

Wang Meng opened his mouth: “Uh… probably not. Master Shen looked perfectly at ease.”

He thought back carefully, then nodded firmly.

“Nonsense!” Zhao Kanglin sneered.

How could anyone fight two opponents and make it look as simple as these beginner martialists claimed?

Hong Lei ignored him, studying the three cloud patterns on Dai Bing’s sleeve—how many demons had to be slain, how many civilians saved, to earn such marks?

Moreover, if Shen Yi could wound them this badly, adding one more slash wouldn’t have been hard. Yet he left them alive, bound, and delivered them here—perhaps there was another meaning.

He sighed heavily and said: “These men are nearly beaten to death—what’s the point of guarding them? Keep them. If they’re lucky enough to survive, take them back to the Demon Suppression Bureau for judgment.”

At these words, Dai Bing, barely clinging to life and with a dark expression, turned his head to look at his senior brother, swallowing the metallic sweetness in his mouth.

Their eyes met, both lips curling with a bitter, complicated expression.

They had been personally cut off from escape by that young man—yet now, they still had a chance to live, and owed it to his brutality.

“Stubborn and unyielding, clinging to those outdated rules—you’ll never achieve great merit in your life.”

Zhao Kanglin sneered. Above had ordered them to guard, yet Hong Lei sat motionless.

If he’d known this, why even bring these men here?

Seeing they completely ignored him, Zhao Kanglin snorted: “Where’s Shen Yi? With such a major incident, why hasn’t he reported?”

Wang Meng and the captains had long endured him; they instinctively wanted to retort.

But then they saw Shen Yi walking slowly up from the base of the slope.

His expression showed no sign of injury—not even the slightest hint he’d just fought.

Watching this, Zhao Kanglin’s face twitched, a flicker of wariness crossing his eyes… the captains had been telling the truth.

Realizing this, he silently turned away.

Hong Lei smiled with admiration and bowed: “Brother Shen, impressive skill.”

Such a young talent—he, an old man, felt humbled.

Shen Yi walked to his side, paused, then warned: “They’ll strike on the mountain soon.”

“Hm?”

Hong Lei’s bowing motion halted; he instinctively replied: “It’s just a steward, desperate and reckless. Brother Shen doesn’t need to be so cautious—General Chen…”

Mid-sentence, shock crossed his square face.

The internal steward fled under cover of night—meaning he disagreed with the higher-ups. The Furious Sword Elder sat on the cliff, yet made no move to stop him.

If the entire Qingfeng Sect had already fractured…

Could the Sect Master truly dare defy the world?

Whether the Qingfeng Mountain disciples united to resist the Demon Suppression Bureau or surrendered the disciple, the pressure rested on the summit.

But if those above wanted to protect him, while those below planned to flee…

Then our group, originally only assigned to guard the pass, would face a counterattack from nearly the entire sect.

Realizing this, Hong Lei gritted his teeth: “Thank you for the warning!”

He snatched a torch from a nearby man, stepped into the open, and used all his Jade Fluid realm vision to gaze upward at the cliff top.

There, the Furious Sword Elder—who had been sitting cross-legged—had risen to his feet.

He pulled out the wooden hairpin from his head; thin silver strands fell loosely over his shoulders.

His cloudy eyes held no emotion, yet strangely brimmed with fury—as if not an emotion, but a deliberate accumulation of latent power.

The old man looked down, his gaze settling on the Qingfeng Mountain steward.

Seeing his disciple still clung to a thread of life…

He sighed faintly; the fury in his eyes was just a hair’s breadth from overflowing, yet never fully took hold.

“You said you severely wounded him!” Hong Lei roared to the side.

“I… I did injure him.”

Zhao Kanglin’s voice lacked conviction; the Furious Sword Elder’s aura now was sharper by threefold than in his prime: “What’s the rush? As long as he dares come down, we’ll activate the Demon Suppression Array—he’ll never leave alive.”

This man seemed unreliable, but his words held truth.

The Demon Suppression Bureau’s deputy commanders enjoyed the finest martial arts and elixirs; even against major sect disciples like those of Qingfeng, their accumulated resources were never inferior—often superior.

Two deputy commanders at Jade Fluid mid-stage guarding here, plus dozens of captains forming an array, could easily subdue an aged, weakened Furious Sword Elder without incident.

Hong Lei feared… judging by the old man’s expression, either he’d lost his mind and sought death, or the Guanjian Gorge—the worst possible escape route—had become this sect’s breakout point.

“Shen Yi, attend.”

He turned, drawing a metal token from his waist: “Carry my order in the name of Commander of Guanjian Gorge—fetch these eight deputy commanders. Remember: hurry. Be careful.”

Shen Yi raised his eyes. This was only his second mission—he’d offered his opinion, but wouldn’t presume his judgment surpassed that of such seasoned generals.

His Jade Fluid peak cultivation was strong, but in this situation, it couldn’t single-handedly decide the outcome, nor could it outmatch the combined strength of eight deputy commanders.

He reached for the token—but another snatched it first.

Zhao Kanglin gritted his teeth: “I’m wounded. Let me go.”

Hearing this, Shen Yi’s expression remained calm, but the surrounding Golden Eagle captains turned away, gritting their teeth.

Hong Lei glared at the spoiled brat in frustration—the man controlled the Demon Suppression Array, an elite technique from the Inner Camp, which outsiders like himself couldn’t possibly comprehend.

“Go quickly and return!”

Saying this, he turned back to the high cliff. Fortunately… the old man still needed time to gather his strength.

Shen Yi watched silently, yet his brow didn’t relax as Hong Lei’s had.

Under his sharp vision…

Behind the Furious Sword Elder, far up the cliff, a group of disciples with faint auras slowly approached the edge—some at beginner stage, even some whose mortal bodies hadn’t yet reached full completion.

(End of Chapter)