Chapter 419: Showdown

Chen Zheng suddenly sprang up, his iron fist carrying boundless tyranny, carving a piercing airflow as he blasted toward the black-robed old man on the roof.

The black-robed old man's robes fluttered; his withered hands lightly rose to meet Chen Zheng's incoming iron fist, without fierce collision or earth-shaking roar, only an eerie silence.

At the moment of palm and fist contact, Chen Zheng actually fell straight from the roof, while the black-clad person stood unmoving like a Buddha of Immovable Wisdom, from receiving the punch to repelling Chen Zheng, his feet never shifting even a fraction.

I and Pangzi helped Chen Zheng up from the ground; blood already trickled from the corner of his mouth. This made me secretly shocked at the black-clad person's strength—judging by Chen Zheng's injuries, it was not merely from ordinary internal martial arts; besides internal force, there was also a trace of Daoist martial arts.

"Useless, no matter how much you struggle it's just in vain; give me that thing, your wife is destined to become my Nine Heaven Slave." The black-robed person walked forward calmly, voice hoarse like an aged elder, words weak and feeble.

Though he looked no different from a sickly old man, no one here dared to underestimate him; given his status as an Insect Master plus that eerie strength, it was enough for me and Pangzi to exert our full effort to deal with him.

Chen Zheng ignored his injuries, slowly rose, and stared at the black-clad person: "All this is your design!"

The black-robed old man slowly shook his head, replying to Chen Zheng with a tone slightly contemptuous: "Now you still ask?"

Chen Zheng's emotions were somewhat unsettled, even saying he was not calm; beneath his calm tone lay a surging murderous intent suppressed.

"Why? I treated you as a senior scholar, obeyed your every word, granted you a hundred generations of wealth and honor, only hoping you could save my wife. And you, why repay kindness with enmity, why harm my wife?" Chen Zheng's eyes gradually turned red, as if mad.

The black-robed old man sighed leisurely: "All this is merely a transaction. You willingly let me use you, then whom can you blame?"

Immediately, he seemed to glance at me and Pangzi, for I sensed that chilling meaning; though his whole body was shrouded in black robes, I could still affirm he had just looked at us.

"The world is a furnace, people are pawns; I have always liked to stand outside the chessboard, grasping the development of the situation, yet I never expected to be forced out by you two juniors—truly impressive, truly impressive!"

Even though forced out, his tone still carried cloud‑light ease, aloof and supremely arrogant, not regarding me and Pangzi as anything at all.

I could almost certainly say this black‑robed old man is a person with peculiar habits—like a market, or those high‑rankers of the Warring States period—clearly possessing absolute power to overwhelm everything, yet he chooses to stay hidden and unmoving, secretly manipulating the whole situation from behind the scenes, never showing his face from start to finish, yet ending up the final victor and biggest winner in the whole conflict. Ordinary people like us cannot see it, but in their eyes it is an endless pleasure.

Behind this desire for control and manipulation lies a distorted humanity—liking to stand high, watching banners dance in the chessboard, countless pieces slaughtering each other because of his maneuvers, blood flowing like rivers; while the chess‑player stands outside the board, the boundless slaughter brings him only greater pleasure.

Such people, no matter which dynasty or position they hold, are not to be underestimated. Behind their strategizing lies absolute wisdom. Of course, describing such a person with wisdom is inappropriate. If one's ambition, insight, and planning ability are placed for good, then he is wisdom; if placed for ill, then he can only be called scheming, or perhaps a pervert with heaven‑defying IQ.

The black‑robed old man before us is absolutely such a heaven‑defying pervert. Whether his disciples or himself, their cultivation is not trivial. Moreover, besides his skill in controlling insects and gu, he seems also versed in the talismanic martial arts and formations of various other schools.

I slowly stepped forward, smiling lightly: "Actually, your being alive already means you are inside the chessboard. We cultivators all consider ourselves outside the board, yet the fact is that when you see yourself as an outsider watching the pieces fight inside, your position is still… a piece on the board."

As I finished the last word, I suddenly sprang up, directly striking him with a Yin Thunder Point Strike.

At the same time Pangzi sprang up, using the Huaguang Sect's Five Thunder God Strike to coordinate with me in a left‑right pincer attack.

Even when Chen Zheng struck, I had realized the black‑robed old man's terrifying strength. Even though Chen Zheng, to prolong Dong Yumin's life, had weakened qi and blood and was no longer as formidable, he was still an internal martial arts master not to be ignored.

Being able to force Chen Zheng back in a single move shows his strength can be glimpsed; therefore I decisively chose a sneak attack—while talking to distract him, then striking decisively when he was off guard.

But the next second I discovered I was wrong, wildly wrong.

I and Pangzi attacked him from left and right; he extended two hands like withered old wood to meet us. When our palms met his, my heart instantly surged with a shocking overturning sensation.

The feeling transmitted from our palms was exactly like my Yin Mountain Sect's Yin Thunder Point Strike—overbearing yet carrying an eerie chill, unmistakably the Yin Thunder Point Strike of my Yin Mountain Sect. On the other side, Pangzi stared at him in disbelief: "How do you know our Huaguang Sect's Five Thunder God Strike?"

In that instant of combat, he actually employed the martial arts of both schools.

If it were only the Huaguang Sect's martial arts, it would still be understandable; the Huaguang teaching is one of the most widely spread folk teachings in Guangdong and Guangxi, with countless Huaguang disciples, many of whom are direct descendants of the Chen, Li, and Wang families; it is no surprise that the older generation passed these arts down to their disciples.

But this black‑robed old man not only knows the Huaguang Sect's Five Thunder God Strike, he is also deeply versed in my Yin Mountain Sect's Yin Thunder Point Strike. The Yin Mountain Sect has declined since the Republic era; its arts have scattered, its martial techniques long lost. Even my master Li Feng, a direct successor, has only managed to grasp a few rare martial arts.

Master Li Feng once told me that even people of his era who understood Yin Mountain martial arts could be counted on one's fingers. Following that inference, this fellow must be from the same generation as my master. In an instant, my and Pangzi's gazes at him were filled with undisguised shock.

"Pfft——" On that side, Pangzi's face suddenly flushed red, and he spat out a mouthful of bright red blood. In that instant of clash, the black‑clad old man overwhelmed Pangzi with absolute strength; the backlash of his Five Thunder God Strike also injured Pangzi.

The Five Thunder God Strike differs from point strikes and mysterious strikes; point and mysterious strikes, even if overbearing, can be remedied if detected in time. But the God Strike, besides being supremely overbearing, directly destroys a person's five viscera and six bowels, causing the struck to lose all vitality in an instant; an ordinary person receiving this palm would surely die within a breath.

Watching Pangzi spit out a mouthful of blood, on the verge of collapse, I hurriedly struggled to rise to check on him. Yet before I could fully stand, a sharp pain transmitted through my body.

Gradually, my shoulders, heart, limbs, and vital acupoints all transmitted a stabbing pain; within the pain there also penetrated a bone‑chilling cold, making me feel as if fallen into an ice cellar, my whole body trembling uncontrollably.

The power of the Yin Thunder Point Strike also gradually appeared on me; if not resolved quickly, I would soon be frozen to death alive.

There is always a counter to a curse, unless it is a ruthless method that cuts off all retreat; otherwise there will be a dispelling technique. Although the Yin Thunder Point Strike and Five Thunder God Strike are overbearing, they are not yet ruthless methods that seal off retreat. So besides knowing how to apply them, I and Pangzi also know the dispelling method. Moreover, as cultivators our bodily foundation is far superior to ordinary people's; we will not die immediately upon being struck by a spell, thus we have enough time to dispel the curse.

The black‑cannon old man remained motionless, quietly watching us dispel the technique, neither obstructing us nor intending to pursue victory.

To outsiders this scene looks bizarre; even I and Pangzi are baffled. Given the chance to put the enemy in a deathly situation, why would he so easily give it up?

But as I chanted the incantation and formed the hand seal to dispel the Yin Thunder Point Strike on my body, something strange soon happened. The yin‑cold sensation inside me did not diminish with the dispelling method; instead it grew bit by bit—in other words, the dispelling method had lost its effect, and I could not dispel his Yin Thunder Point Strike at all.

"Clang——clang" As I and Pangzi sat cross‑legged on the ground, exerting our whole bodies to dispel the martial arts, Little Fat clenched his chubby fists and charged at the black‑robed old man.

I anxiously worried inside, but my internal injuries prevented me from diverting attention; I could only watch helplessly as Little Fat was sent flying backward by the black‑robed old man's assault.

"Little Fat——" Watching Little Cat fly out, I finally could not help but cry out in alarm. But at that very moment of distraction, the yin energy inside me surged like a flood, spreading over my body. I was corroded by yin qi, completely losing the ability to resist. Collapsed on the ground like an addict in withdrawal, I clutched my shoulders, curled my knees, and twitched all over.

Seeing the black‑robed old man had no intention of pursuing Little Fat after his victory, my anxious heart finally eased a little. Yet at this moment the situation is still grim: Chen Zheng is wounded, and Pangzi and I have lost our fighting strength.

Who else can resist this black‑robed old man?

I can only despairingly watch the black‑robed old man slowly approach Chen Zheng. I have no doubt about his ability; he will surely be able to extract that thing from Chen Zheng's mouth. If an Insect Master is determined to torment a person, he can absolutely make life worse than death.

Perhaps after extracting that thing's whereabouts, he will refine Dong Yumin into a Nine Heaven Woman that makes all Daoists tremble at the name; or perhaps tonight, Pangzi and I will die miserably inside this courtyard, never even getting a chance to watch him refine the Nine Heaven Woman.

The sky is dim and gloomy, just like my heart—a vast darkness with no light, no hope.

------------。