Chapter 347: This Stance Alone Is Terrifyingly Strong, Mouth Full of Thunder! (Combined)

"Today, these two lives are mine!"

"His voice rang like metal striking stone, freezing the surroundings into deathly silence."

"Outside, the rain had ceased; the dark clouds had quietly vanished, and the sky regained its clarity."

"Luo Feiguang's face still bore a trace of disbelief; his gaze drifted to the several cultivators behind you, clad in the robes of Zhongnan Mountain, stirring ripples in his heart."

"That copper coin—the secret of 'Mercury'—was known only to insiders. Could this middle-aged man, with frost-touched temples, truly be...? The thought sent his heart racing uncontrollably."

"Luo Feiguang dared not expose the other's identity; he himself was uncertain, and with a Grand Master now hunting them, revealing his own identity would be too dangerous."

"Xiao Yu looked up, her eyes glistening like pear blossoms in the rain, unable to believe this man would step forward so boldly; she turned to Ouyang Huangquan, whose face had turned ashen."

"A glimmer of hope had emerged."

"The Four Elders of the Sword Sect, long detached from the martial world, scrutinized the nine figures in the room, yet saw them as if through a fog—unable to identify any of them."

"Hu Jie of the Sword Sect also looked astonished, yet failed to perceive the extraordinary nature behind the nine; he merely assumed they were disguised members of the 'Prince Yan's entourage.'"

"Along the Yue Tang River now, countless teams claim to be Prince Yan—and countless impostors."

"Sir, are you truly determined to oppose me?"

"Ouyang Huangquan's face darkened as he stared at you and coldly declared: 'Prince Senluo, all things shall be annihilated!'"

"Ouyang Huangquan's Grand Master aura erupted, instantly engulfing the entire tavern."

"The invisible killing intent, like a winter gale, pierced through clothing, sending chills down the spines of the other nine present, their hairs standing on end."

"Ouyang Huangquan's cultivation of the 'Senluo Cold Qi' was a secret art of the Senluo Temple, ranked among the most powerful true energies in the world."

"When perfected, this technique could release a freezing chill from the palms capable of freezing sword blades; once inside the body, it clung like a parasitic worm, nearly impossible to expel."

"Simultaneously, as Ouyang Huangquan spoke, twenty Senluo Temple assassins outside the tavern tensed, their collective killing intent weaving an invisible net that tightly enclosed the tavern."

"The conversation had broken down; conflict was imminent."

"Seeing this, the Four Elders of the Sword Sect grew grave, all bracing themselves, not daring to slacken for a moment."

"The robed elder tightly shielded the young woman with her ponytail and striking demeanor behind him."

"He whispered urgently: 'Miss, if the battle spirals out of control, you must follow orders—mount the Snow-Red Horse and ride straight toward Yue Tang River. There, Li Lanjiang, Zhang Zhiyuan, and other righteous martial heroes stand guard; the Senluo Sect won't dare act rashly.'"

"Ma Yiren's eyes hardened further; she shook her head gently and said to the elder: 'Uncle Kui, though I am a woman, I know 'benevolence and righteousness' weigh heavier than mountains. This mission was my own choice—if I retreat now, wouldn't I betray my own beliefs?'"

"My name, reversed, reads 'Yi Ren.' I vow to live and die with you all—I will never flee!"

"The robed elder gazed at Ma Yiren's resolute face, filled with helpless resignation. He knew his mistress's nature—once decided, even nine oxen couldn't pull her back; not even the boss himself could change her mind."

"He sighed softly, silently praying that this journey would turn out safely and they would return unharmed."

"All nine of them hailed from the famed northern sect—the Yan Mountains Sect, renowned in the martial world, whose leader ranked 190th on the Jingzhe List of top martial artists."

"The white steed quietly waiting at the door, 'Snow-Red Horse,' was one of the Ten Greatest Horses in the world—capable of galloping a thousand li a day, extraordinary beyond measure; once it ran, only Grand Masters skilled in lightness arts could catch it."

"As the sole daughter of the Yan Mountains Sect's leader, Ma Yiren had been doted upon since childhood. Though she had secretly slipped out against everyone's wishes, her father had secretly dispatched protectors to ensure her safety."

"They had assumed that with a Grand Master accompanying them, even their flimsy disguise as 'Prince Yan' could avoid trouble if they remained cautious."

"But fate is unpredictable—on the third day of their journey, they encountered a Grand Master."

"The old man inside the tavern seemed to be gathering his internal energy, preparing to strike; he slowly closed his eyes, faint currents of qi swirling subtly between his palms—like a spotted tiger crouched in the wild, watching its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a fatal blow."

"Xiu'er, watching nearby, subtly changed her expression—she seemed to have guessed something!"

"Ouyang Huangquan, facing the nine, his naturally hanging hands exuded a chilling aura; frosty mist drifted from his palms."

"Sir, must it truly come to this?"

"Unexpectedly, Ouyang Huangquan did not immediately attack."

"His tone carried a barely perceptible hesitation."

"The crowd was stunned—Senluo Temple assassins were notoriously ruthless killers. When had they become women haggling over prices?"

"He pressed again and again."

"Even the Four Elders of the Sword Sect were bewildered—how could Ouyang Huangquan, a Grand Master, hesitate to engage these nine so easily? Such abnormal behavior puzzled them."

"You merely smiled, saying nothing."

"Lu Yu stood nearby, arms crossed, feet apart, slightly tilting his head, eyes half-lidded as he studied Ouyang Huangquan."

"The Seven Disciples of Zhongnan watched their master's posture and swallowed hard."

"Just by his stance alone, he was terrifyingly powerful."

"Familiar memories surged back—his master was about to beat someone up."

"Ouyang Huangquan's icy expression finally shattered; a ruthless smile curled on his lips as he spoke, voice colder than ice: 'Then don't blame me for being merciless.'"

"A chilling aura swept through the tavern."

"Senluo True Qi!"

"Xiao Yu's voice trembled with terror and urgency."

"Master, be careful!"

"At these words, everyone's faces paled. Senluo True Qi—this legendary, venomous internal energy could not be resisted; contact meant it would seep into the organs, nearly impossible to purge, and even move within the body, leaving victims neither alive nor dead."

"Xiao Yu herself had suffered from it—eight years ago, the Senluo True Qi forcibly implanted in her body had defied every method she'd tried to remove."

"Like a lurking venomous snake, now that she sensed the icy qi again, her abdomen stirred; a chilling sensation crept up her spine, paralyzing her lower body, beads of cold sweat forming on her forehead."

"Luo Feiguang noticed her distress and rushed to support her, his face filled with anxiety."

"Xiao Yu reassured him: 'Just an old ailment—it's nothing!'"

"She felt the familiar stiffness and coldness invade her entire body again—the torment that had haunted her every night for eight years; even nightly hot steam baths offered only fleeting relief, barely easing her suffering."

"Xiao Yu felt a surge of dread and despair—she realized she could never escape the Senluo Temple's control."

"At that moment, a warm current flowed gently into her Shaoyang Meridian through her palm, like spring sunlight piercing winter ice, slowly permeating every corner of her body."

"The two energies met in her lower dantian; in that instant, winter gave way to spring—the icy qi was instantly shattered, dissolving into nothingness."

"Sweat poured down, soaking her clothes; though her internal energy had been drained by half, her face glowed with unprecedented joy and excitement."

"Xiao Yu could hardly believe it!"

"The Senluo True Qi that had tormented her for eight long years had been effortlessly purged—her body felt light, no longer heavy with labored breath."

"She felt that, given time, her internal energy would ascend to a new level."

"That supremely yang internal energy had vanished from her body; she had never heard of such a ruthless power."

"And to cure icy qi, one needed at least Grand Master-level cultivation."

"Yet he had removed this mountain she'd struggled with for eight years as if brushing off dust."

"Xiao Yu didn't even know who among them had helped her!"

"She turned to the middle-aged man who had spoken, and before him stood a young man in white Daoist robes, slightly behind by half a step."

"Behind him, the seven others in Daoist robes looked calm and relaxed."

"Could these nine truly be... the Zhongnan Mountain..."

"Attack!"

"Ouyang Huangquan uttered his final two words."

"Twenty-four swordsmen sprang into action simultaneously from all directions, moving in perfect unison as if one body had split into twenty-four; first, they unleashed a barrage of hidden weapons."

"Then, concealed by the storm of projectiles, they lunged forward, charging straight at the nine."

"In an instant, the tavern was bathed in the glare of flashing blades."

"Several nearby were caught in the crossfire; the Sword Sect members reacted instantly, raising their swords to block the flying weapons."

"Luo Feiguang kicked a chair upward, using the table to shield Xiao Yu, who was still lost in thought."

"The robed elder, with extraordinary skill, drew his flexible whip like a serpent striking from its hole, striking down every incoming projectile."

"At that moment!"

"A thunderous roar erupted in the midst of the chaos."

"A deafening explosion suddenly ripped through the air, like a bolt of lightning, shaking everyone's hearts."

"In that deafening instant, the faint sound of a porcelain bowl shattering behind the pavilion became insignificant, nearly drowned out entirely."

"Inside the pavilion, the seven with lesser cultivation and the four hooded figures were thrown off balance by the shockwave, staggering and collapsing to the ground."

"Hu Jie and Huang Yuwei of the Sword Sect, among their sect's elite, nearly fell, but quickly regained their footing."

"At that moment, the Nine Disciples of Zhongnan moved in perfect unison, revealing their Grand Master-level cultivation."

"The twenty-four swordsmen froze for an instant, stunned by the thunderous blast."

"Though only for a heartbeat, the eldest, Duan Sheng, drew his sword—its light blazed like a rainbow; the second, Luo Chenguang, unleashed a punch like a howling wind..."

"All Seven Disciples of Zhongnan attacked with ferocity."

"In a clash of masters, on a narrow path, the outcome was decided in a single instant."

"Life and death—each bears their own fate!"

"After that fleeting moment of shock, the Four Elders of the Sword Sect snapped back to awareness—fear gripped them; had the enemy struck then, the consequences would have been catastrophic—decapitation."

"The Four Elders turned their gaze to the scene, their pupils dilating in shock."

"As the others gradually recovered..."

"They saw that the once dense hail of hidden weapons now lay scattered on the ground like fallen leaves."

"And horrifyingly, all twenty-four assassins were dead."

"The air reeked of thick blood, jolting every nerve."

"A speck of blood had stained Hu Jie's cheek, slowly trickling down, yet he seemed unaware—his eyes wide, his face filled with disbelief."

"He couldn't believe that in the space of a single blink, twenty-four living assassins had been wiped out."

"One strike, one death—such a method was utterly horrifying."

"Hu Jie was certain: among these nine, there was at least one Grand Master."

The green-clad woman Huang Yuwei's wide-brimmed hat was blown off by the sudden gust, revealing her true face.

She was tall and carried a cold demeanor, yet her face—marred by deep, crisscrossing scars from sharp blades—was startlingly fearsome. Yet upon that scarred visage rested a pair of eyes of extraordinary gentleness.

She did not notice her face had been exposed; she merely stared blankly into the courtyard.

Among the corpses lying in pools of blood, each pair of eyes still wide with terror and shock.

Dead with eyes unclosed!

Everyone drew a sharp breath.

You slowly turned your head to glance inside the tavern behind you.

The robed elder and his companions also looked stunned, quietly putting distance between themselves and you.

Luo Yunfei could hardly believe it—he seemed on the verge of confirming your identity.

Xiao Yu reacted first.

"Ouyang Huangquan?"

Everyone froze—the Lord of the Senluo Hall had just been here, yet his body was nowhere to be seen.

He had vanished without a trace!

The Four Elders of the Sword Sect recalled this Grand Master of the Senluo Hall, a legendary cultivator famed throughout the Jianghu.

In the very instant he shouted "Attack," he had already launched himself in the opposite direction, sprinting at full speed.

He fled!

No one could imagine what would have happened had he struck just now.

But his cowardice before battle could only mean one thing: among these nine, there was certainly a master of the Grand Master realm.

And not just any—someone ranked among the top ten on the Jingzhe List.

The Seven Sons of Zhongnan wore expressions of satisfaction—indeed, roaming the Jianghu, settling scores with sword and blood, was truly exhilarating.

When the urge struck, one killed!

Tomorrow's Jianghu gossip would be: The Seven Sons of Zhongnan annihilated twenty Senluo Hall assassins without breaking a sweat.

Of course, that had also been aided by Master's thunderous cry—the "Voice Containing Thunder."

Lu Yu let out a cold snort.

"A cowardly mouse!"

Lu Yu sent a mental message to you: There's still a rat lurking behind the house—eliminate the Lord of the Senluo Hall first.

So… you decided.

The light screen above the great cauldron slowly stabilized, revealing several options.

(End of Chapter)