Chapter 101: The Su Family, Annihilated!

One after another, fierce slashes severed the heads of the Su Family stewards who had been trying to flee; the unwillingness in their eyes gradually dimmed before they finally collapsed onto the cold ground.

At this point, aside from the two ancestors and some others who were away fighting at the Frontier, every last member of the Su Family main branch had perished.

Everyone still standing turned in unison to look at that figure in the sky.

The seed of faith was planted deep in their hearts.

Jiang Qin spoke softly, his voice echoing through the mountain stream.

Whether it was meant for the people from the Zhenling Bureau, or for the Divine Image Realm Martial Artists who had come from the various great families.

Or perhaps for the rats from other powers hidden in the mountains.

"Rules are the absolute bottom line for protecting the common people. I won't interfere with the grudges and feuds between martial artists, but a true martial artist must draw the line at ordinary people. Whoever crosses that red line — I don't care if you're an ancient clan with a hundred years of inheritance, or if your ancestors once rendered great merit — even if you're thousands of miles away, I will execute you!"

The hearts of the Military Department people surged with emotion; drums pounded and voices shouted.

"Execute them!"

"Execute them!!"

"Execute them!!!"

Half an hour later, they withdrew from Lingxi Shan.

All the heads had been cut off, leaving only headless corpses strewn about.

Half a day later, outside Dongxing Jidi Shi, a new mound of severed heads appeared.

All civilians were allowed to go look.

The news that the once-mighty Su Family had been wiped out quickly spread throughout Inside the Circle, and for a time Jiang Qin's fame shook the world once again.

This wasn't merely about establishing dominance — it was about rewriting the rules of Inside the Circle.

…

Time rewinds half a day.

After the dust settled.

On Lingxi Shan, the once exquisitely carved Su Family estate had been reduced to scorched earth. Headless corpses lay scattered in pools of blood, and the air reeked with a sickening stench of blood.

Carrion crows flew in from afar, landing on the piles of corpses and letting out hoarse cries.

Beneath the rubble, a broken stele engraved with the Su Family crest lay pressed under the debris.

Beside the broken stele, a stone slab was silently pushed aside.

A hand stained with blood reached up from underground, gripping the rubble, and with great effort dragged a body out of the cellar.

The youth was about sixteen or seventeen, with delicate features, but at this moment his face was so pale it held not a trace of color.

He knelt amid the ruins, staring blankly at the headless corpses covering the ground — those were his clansmen, his elders, his brothers and sisters.

The eldest legitimate grandson of the Su Family main branch — Su Ting.

He neither cried nor screamed.

Because Jiang Qin's men might not yet have gone far.

It was his grandfather Su Wanqiu who, before going out to fight, had pressed this breath-concealing jade pendant into his hands — "If things go wrong, survive."

He had survived.

In the pitch-black cellar, he had listened to the sounds of slaughter, screams, and pleas for mercy coming from above.

He heard the short, muffled grunt when his second uncle was beheaded, heard his third sister cry "Grandfather" before she died, and heard the Military Department men chatting and laughing as they cut off his clansmen's heads, as if harvesting crops.

From start to finish, he bit down on his own arm until the flesh was torn and bloody, not daring to make a single sound.

Until all the sounds had vanished.

Su Ting staggered to his feet and rummaged through the ruins for a long time.

He found his grandfather Su Wanqiu's headless corpse, his father's broken sword, and the string of prayer beads his mother had still been clutching tightly in her hand when she died.

He knelt on the ground and tucked the prayer beads into his robes.

"Father, Mother, Grandfather… Second Uncle, Third Sister…"

He called out each name one by one, his voice hoarse as if scraped across sandpaper.

Then he stood up and walked down the mountain without looking back.

The Frontier.

His great-grandfather and second great-grandfather were still garrisoned at Changcheng on the Frontier.

He had to survive.

Survive long enough to reach the Frontier.

Survive long enough to see the two ancestors.

Survive long enough to tell them — the Su Family was gone.

Outside Lingxi Shan, the sunset was the color of blood.

He swore he would make that man pay with blood for blood!

…

Holy City.

This city had not originally been called by that name.

Two years ago, Fierce Beasts broke through the boundary, the old city fell, and the Church of Gods seized the chaos to occupy it, renaming it "Holy City."

Holy among ten thousand cities, the God-chosen land.

The city's residents were forced to convert to faith in the gods, kneeling and praying in the square every morning, singing hymns of divine voice. Those who refused to kneel were hung on wooden frames at the city gates, dried by the wind into human-skin banners.

In the holy temple built of black stone at the city's center, the atmosphere was now so gloomy it was suffocating.

Twelve white-robed elders sat on either side of a long table, while bishops stood in the back row, whispering to each other like a flock of startled sparrows.

Candlelight flickered on the walls, stretching the fear on their faces into twisted shadows.

"He has resurrected."

The elder seated at the left chief's position spoke, his voice hoarse. "The news has been confirmed. In Dongxing Jidi Shi, not long ago, the entire Su Family was slaughtered, and their heads were piled into a mound."

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

Jiang Qin.

That name was a taboo within the Holy Church.

Two years ago, he had cut through the Heitu Cheng branch temple and slaughtered tens of thousands of Fierce Beasts in Tianyun Shi.

In the end, it took three Vice Cult Masters sacrificing themselves to summon a deity's descent before that man could be destroyed.

And now, he had actually returned!

"What is there to panic about?"

The voice came from the far end of the long table. It was not loud, yet it was like a drop of ice water falling on scalding skin, sending a shiver through everyone at once.

The twelve elders rose in an instant and dropped to one knee toward the main seat.

"Holy Cult Master."

She walked out from the shadows deep within the sanctum, barefoot.

Her bare feet stepped on the black stone floor, her ankles slender, the arch of her foot curved as gracefully as a crescent moon. With every step she took, faint golden patterns rippled soundlessly outward beneath her, as though she were treading on an invisible water's surface.

The black stone was cold and rough, yet she walked with composure.

A crimson gown trailed along the ground. Embroidered on its hem were not flowers, birds, insects, or fish, but a host of half-open vertical pupils. As the skirt swayed, those pupils seemed to come alive, opening and closing one by one, coldly surveying every person in the hall.

A sash was loosely tied at her waist, accentuating a waist slim enough to be encircled by a single hand.

Her collar was slightly open, and at the hollow of her collarbones rested a divine pattern fashioned from gold leaf, rising and falling gently with her breath.

The current Cult Master of the Holy Church.

No one knew her true name.

Two years ago, when the three Vice Cult Masters had all perished, a deity personally appointed her to succeed to the position of Holy Lord.

Two years had passed, and the bones of everyone who had questioned her had sunk into some abyss, no one knew where.

She walked to the main seat and did not sit down.

A slender hand emerged from her red sleeve, five fingers slightly spread.

A ball of golden flame rose from her palm, sketching the phantom of a vertical pupil in the air.

That vertical pupil slowly rotated, as though looking down upon every terrified face in the room.

The elders bowed their heads even lower, cold sweat dripping down their temples onto the black stone floor.

"The divine oracle has descended."

Her voice carried a subtle, almost delighted tremor.

"The barrier's suppression of the deities remains, but only for now—it is merely inconvenient to descend, that is all. Let that man live a few more days."

The phantom vertical pupil suddenly swelled, and golden light spread across the entire sanctum like a tide.

The elders trembled all over within that light, unsure whether it was from excitement or fear.

"It won't be long before the barrier collapses entirely. When the deities descend into this realm, a mere Jiang Qin—will be nothing but a single insignificant speck of dust beneath the divine flame."

She drew out the final syllable very softly, very gently, like a lover whispering secrets in one's ear.

If Jiang Qin were here, he would recognize her.

This so-called Holy Cult Master was none other than the red-robed woman of the Gods' Cult whom he had beaten half to death back then in Tianyun Shi.