Chapter 302: Taking Leave!

Ninth Prince's Manor.

The imperial princes of Great You, upon reaching adulthood, would no longer reside in the imperial palace, regardless of whether they had been enfeoffed as kings or not.

The Ninth Prince was no exception; he had his own manor in the capital.

Because several princes had died, the manor's defenses had clearly been tightened considerably; the main gate was shut tight, and four burly, powerful imperial guards could be seen standing at the entrance.

Clad in armor, holding long spears, with sabers hanging at their waists.

The princes' manors were all clustered together, occupying an entire street; usually few idle people passed through here, making it quite quiet.

Tang Luo and A Fei walked over without any concealment, attracting a great many gazes.

Especially A Fei — his clothes were tattered, soaked through with fresh blood, exuding a thick, bloody stench; was he looking to cause trouble?

Side doors opened one after another, and the news began to spread.

"Who are the two of you...?"

Arriving before the Ninth Prince's manor, several imperial guards directly crossed their long spears, blocking Tang Luo and A Fei's path.

"Are they among them?" Tang Luo asked.

A Fei shook his head; among the guards Zhao De had brought, these four were not present.

"Good." Tang Luo nodded, raised his hand, and swept it from left to right, as if shooing away flies or mosquitoes; a hand the size of a grown man flashed by, faintly visible.

The four imperial guards were swept aside by the palm, rolled on the ground a couple of times, and fainted dead away.

Tang Luo took out the retrieved Drilling Wind Bone Sword and handed it to A Fei: "Go on."

"Many thanks, Master." A Fei revealed a ferocious expression, gripped the bone sword tight, thrust it into the tightly shut vermilion gates, carved out an X shape, then lifted his leg and kicked.

The double doors shattered into several pieces, fell to the ground, and let out a dull thud.

"Zhao De, get out here!" A Fei roared in a shaking voice.

Inside the manor, a crowd of imperial guards soon surged out, formed ranks, the long spears in their hands leveled at A Fei and Tang Luo, ready to strike at any moment.

All it needed was a single command.

A Fei used the Drilling Wind Bone Sword to prop up his body, staring dead at this group of men.

These guards' complexions, however, were exceptionally ugly; quite a few even revealed expressions of terror.

Without a doubt, these men had followed Zhao De on the hunt and were the guards who had killed A Fei.

They knew very well that the other party had been nearly pierced to shreds by their long spears, dead beyond dead, just short of having his head chopped off.

Why was he now standing perfectly fine before them?

And that white-clothed, white-haired man beside him... who was he?

Tang Luo's destruction of Joyous Monastery had naturally made a huge name for him in the capital.

But after all this was ancient times; many people merely knew that a Master Xuanzang had dealt with Joyous Monastery, but who this monk actually was, what he looked like —

those who knew the inside story were not many.

Moreover, this kind of overly exaggerated matter, after several months of transmission, easily became distorted through repeated retelling.

What was most relished and widely spread was that the monk was a Vajra disciple under the Buddha's seat; because Joyous Monastery lacked virtue and damaged Buddhism's pure reputation,

he was dispatched to exterminate this den of iniquity, Joyous Monastery.

Legend said that monk stood eight chi eight, was powerfully built, with a Vajra's wrathful glare.

What, why would there be such an exaggerated eight chi eight? You wouldn't know this, would you?

Heard he slapped Joyous Monastery's people into nothing with a single palm; how huge must that palm be? With a palm that big, the person must be huge too.

And that Joyous Sinner (Joyous Bodhisattva) flew up to the heavens, yet was caught and grabbed down in one hand!

Of course I know; my second aunt's husband's son's brother's female cousin's husband's younger brother's neighbor's Old Li the Second was on the scene that day, saw it clearly.

By the time it spread to the end, the features of white clothes and white hair had instead been lost in transmission.

Nobody believed that a fierce figure who could wipe out Joyous Monastery would be an ordinary, unremarkable monk.

What's white clothes and white hair? Find a white-haired old man on the street, put a white monk's robe on him, isn't that white clothes and white hair?

Only eight chi eight in height, six chi eight in waist, extremely ferocious — that matches the fantasy image in the masses' hearts.

That group of guards also weren't too clear that the man before them was the Master Xuanzang who had destroyed Joyous Monastery.

Some might have had a slight inkling, but most of their attention was focused on A Fei, who had returned from the dead.

"Daring to address this Prince by name, don't want to live anymore?" A domineering, arrogant voice came from behind the guards.

The guards voluntarily parted a path.

Zhao De walked out; seeing A Fei, he also froze for a moment — what situation?

Wasn't this brat dead?

He had originally been planning to teach that village girl a lesson, make her understand how to be a qualified toilet servant, when he heard a voice that sounded somewhat familiar.

Came out to look, and it was actually that already-dead Dark-Clad Guard; what was his name again?

Forgotten; this kind of ignorant small fry, Zhao De wouldn't keep in mind.

But now, Zhao De had to pay attention — returned from death... or a moving corpse?

Cultivators entering the world — many methods Zhao De knew well; what corpse-driving, illusion arts, combined they could achieve the effect before his eyes.

Then, was it the white-haired monk beside him making mischief?

"Came out." Tang Luo smiled. "Buddha's Dharma is boundless!"

The powerless A Fei instantly surged with strength; this was a signal — Master was telling him to act.

"Ah!"

No set forms, no sword moves, only the venting of rage; the Drilling Wind Bone Sword in his hand turned into a whip lashing out at the crowd before him.

Sharp, ferocious bone spikes easily pierced through the armor on their bodies, leaving terrifying wounds on them.

"Courting death!"

Zhao De cursed angrily, stepping back to leave — not fleeing, he intended to return for his weapon.

This cultivator who had come knocking would be held off by the Imperial Guards for now.

Those Imperial Guards were no pushovers; after being caught off guard by A Fei at first, they immediately reacted and counterattacked, surrounding A Fei.

Zuan Feng shifted from whip to sword; A Fei exhaled lightly and began engaging the enemy with his formidable movement speed and fast sword.

Despite lacking the Fate Fragments, the Spartan War Cry compensated for the drop in strength to a certain extent.

Moreover, since A Fei had no must-kill target, he could fight a roaming battle, and with the vicious weapon in hand, he could at least guarantee he would not lose.

As for Tang Luo, he executed the Ghost Shadow Step.

Zhao De hadn't run more than a few steps when his vision blurred, and the white-haired monk blocked his path.

"Scram!" Without a second word, Zhao De threw a punch at Tang Luo's face.

A faint tiger's roar seemed to sound.

Tang Luo extended his hand, caught Zhao De's fist, and casually twisted.

The not-fully-formed dragon-shaped Xuan Qi blocked for less than half a second before being "ground to bits" by Tang Luo's rotation.

Zhao De's right arm was instantly twisted into a mangled mess; bones shattered and displaced, piercing through flesh and skin to be exposed.

With a fling to the side, Zhao De's whole body flew through the air, crashing into a nearby wall.

Falling back to the ground, he wore a look of horror, staring at his right arm.

From the shoulder down, the arm was gone; all that remained was a terrifying wound where it had been torn away.

"Aaaaaah!"

A scream of terror and agony erupted from Zhao De's mouth.

"An arm for an arm — this is karma." A spark flashed between Tang Luo's fingers; the severed arm in his hand instantly turned to ash.

Zhao De fixed Tang Luo with an incomparably venomous glare.

With his strength, losing an arm wouldn't kill him: "Guards! Guards! Assassins!"

But at this moment, he could only scream his lungs out.

Tang Luo smiled, ignoring Zhao De who could barely stand, and walked toward the mansion gate, casually slapping half the Imperial Guards to death along the way.

This turned A Fei's stalemate into the upper hand; it wouldn't be long before he slaughtered them all.

Arriving at the mansion gate, he stood there for a while; soon hoofbeats rang out from both ends of the street.

At both ends of the street, Imperial Forest Army troops rode in on horseback.

This place was originally very close to the Imperial Palace; this amount of time was enough for them to respond.

However, the Imperial Forest Army commander who led the troops saw Tang Luo standing at the gate, and his expression changed instantly, unsure whether to retreat or advance.

As the army guarding the Imperial Palace, if the Imperial Forest Army commander still didn't know the identity of the monk before him, he might as well go home and farm.

"Master Xuanzang..."

Inside the mansion, Ninth Prince Zhao De's shrill cries and the sounds of killing continued.

Yet Tang Luo stood at the gate, his intent to block the way obvious.

The Imperial Forest Army commander had no choice but to brace himself and step forward: "This... what happened?"

"Settling a grudge between Zhao De and this poor monk's companion, concluding karma." Tang Luo said, "Outsiders had best not interfere; otherwise, karmic retribution — you cannot bear it."

As that gaze fell upon him, the Imperial Forest Army commander felt a weight of a thousand catties, nearly unable to remain standing.

Karmic retribution, cannot bear it?

It's more like they can't bear Master Xuanzang's "Great Buddha Palm."

But if they stand at the gate and watch the Ninth Prince get killed in his own mansion?

Their heads will roll too.

"No need to worry." Tang Luo said, "Zhao De won't die for now."

As if to verify Tang Luo's words, another shrill cry came from inside, then cut off abruptly.

The Imperial Forest Army commander's body shook; he nearly drew his sword.

Fortunately, new movement soon followed.

Those at the gate saw a Yiyi Guard in tattered clothes, looking like he'd crawled out of a corpse pile, missing an arm, walking toward them.

In his intact hand he gripped a vicious bone whip; the other end of the bone whip was locked around the neck of Ninth Prince Zhao De, who was half-shuffling, half-crawling like a dog!

To keep the bone whip around his neck from strangling him, Zhao De crawled on the ground with desperate abandon, writhing.

Just like that, A Fei dragged him to the gate.

"Save me! Save me! General Wang, kill these traitorous rebels!"

Seeing the gate packed with Imperial Forest Army troops, Zhao De's will to survive instantly surged to its peak.

Right then A Fei released Zuan Feng, which returned to sword form; Zhao De abruptly stood and bolted toward the Imperial Forest Army side.

General Wang was also prepared to protect the Ninth Prince.

However, just as he passed by Tang Luo's side, Zhao De fell flat on the ground; he tried to rise again, but Tang Luo lifted his foot and stomped on his head.

Pinning him back down to the ground.

"Ninth Prince, don't rush; this poor monk has questions for you." Tang Luo spoke unhurriedly; though he addressed the Ninth Prince, there was not a shred of respect in his tone — rather, it was like calling a filthy insect.

"Master Xuanzang!" General Wang flared with anger, even his form of address changed.

"Who is causing trouble?"

At that moment, a voice came from the sky; someone flew in and landed among the crowd.

"Ah, Daoist Qingfeng." General Wang rejoiced — Qingfeng Daozhang of the Longya Dao Gate had arrived.

"Ah!"

The words had barely fallen when, before he could even render aid, Qingfengzi suddenly let out an exaggerated cry and vomited a mouthful of fresh blood.

"My old injury has flared up again, at a time like this — General Wang, farewell!"

Qingfengzi cupped his fist in salute and was about to leave.

"Wait, since you've come don't leave — there might be something I need your help with." Tang Luo called out to Qingfengzi, who was planning to make a run for it.

Qingfengzi's face was full of worry and regret; he wanted to slap himself — why show off? Why put on an act?

Would it have killed him to just stay in the manor and cultivate honestly?