Chapter 44: Not a Single Bit of Psychological Pressure

The powerful strike fused with seven souls—the Azure Dragon’s Crescent Slash—appeared slow but was in fact lightning-fast, cleaving into the Black Lotus barrier.

Crack!

A deafening crash.

A crack appeared in the floating Black Lotus platform, then rapidly spread like a spiderweb until every surface was riddled with fissures, finally halting.

Plop!

The Black Lotus platform lost its color and crashed onto the sandy ground.

Puff! Lian Yi spat out a mouthful of blood, staring at the shattered Black Lotus platform littered with cracks, his molars grinding so hard they felt ready to break.

How could this happen?

This man is merely a Seventh Rank, First Tier. Even if his momentum is exceptionally refined, he shouldn’t possess such destructive power.

He Zixuan’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

When he entered the Black Lotus barrier, even standing required immense pressure, preventing him from unleashing his full strength.

Lu Fang’s Martial Soul—Azure Dragon’s Crescent Slash—shattered the Black Lotus platform, clearly a supreme treasure, into fragments!

Snow Luo Sha blinked her large eyes, glancing between Lu Fang and the nearly shattered Black Lotus platform, then back at Lu Fang—her eyes sparkled.

Why do I feel he’s so majestic?

Uuuu… I can’t summon even a trace of revulsion.

Thinking carefully, he hasn’t done anything wrong—have I been too rude?

“Cross the river on a single reed!”

Lian Yi flashed forward, snatched up the Black Lotus platform, shot Lu Fang a venomous glare, and appeared motionless—yet it was only an afterimage; his true body had already fled swiftly eastward.

“Trying to run?”

Lu Fang grinned, summoning the Black Armor to cling to his body, then swiftly chased after Lian Yi.

Cut the grass but leave the roots, and the spring wind will bring it back!

Strike while the iron is hot!

This Lian Yi’s strength is unnaturally high. Killing him will surely grant great fortune—he came to me willingly, a wicked man; I owe him no mercy!

…

Tian Feng Year 29.

November 4th.

Three days have passed since entering the Lesser Upper Realm.

Xiao Yunru, after slaying a stone golem, absorbed a thumb-sized unclaimed aura, and muttered listlessly:

“I wonder if that wicked monk has killed Lu Fang and the others!”

“Maybe I should go check—if the wicked monk hasn’t killed Lu Fang, I can strike and claim his aura.”

Xiao Yunru’s eyes gleamed with greed.

Lu Fang is several years younger than me, yet he’s been enfeoffed as the Marquis of Civil Crown, taken as a disciple by the Half-Sage Xu Han Yi, composed two Manifest-Level poems, and written three Elegant Essays.

He’s practically a household name in the Imperial Capital—his aura is bound to be immense!

If I miss this chance, I won’t know how long I’ll have to wait for another.

Even if Lu Fang was killed by the wicked monk, I can confirm it, stop obsessing over him, and focus on seizing other auras.

Xiao Yunru pondered briefly, then made his decision.

He sped off in the direction indicated by the incense-worm.

Along the way, after casually exterminating a ghost clan member, Xiao Yunru pushed forward at full speed for half a day, arriving at a rocky wasteland.

A stone mountain rose sheer into the sky; though not tall, it stood out starkly against the endless desert.

Jagged rocks jutted like canine teeth, barren of even a blade of grass—utterly treacherous.

What halted Xiao Yunru was a horrifying fissure on the towering stone mountain, as if cleaved by a deliberate blow.

Someone fought here!

Xiao Yunru observed carefully, reached a conclusion, and without lingering, sprinted toward a distant point.

Closer!

The incense-worm thrashed its tail repeatedly—Lu Fang was nearby.

After another hour of travel, Xiao Yunru spotted Lu Fang at an oasis in the desert.

But something seemed off.

Lu Fang, standing across the oasis from him, looked relaxed, gazing at his opponent—Lian Yi!

The wicked monk’s expression was listless, his chest heaving violently, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

The black Buddhist rosary around his neck was gone; a large bloodstain stained his cassock.

“This…”

Xiao Yunru’s heart lurched—he instantly hid in a sand pit.

After calming his turbulent emotions, he cautiously peered out again, wanting to confirm whether what he’d seen was an illusion.

Lu Fang!

The wicked monk!

It wasn’t an illusion!

But why was the wicked monk half-dead, while Lu Fang radiated vigor?

“Keep running, then!”

Lu Fang sneered.

Lian Yi gasped for breath, wiped sweat from his eyes, and lowered his eyelids.

“You’ve chased me for two days—why? You can’t kill me. If you let me go, I’ll give you a great opportunity. How about it?”

Lu Fang shrugged. “Not interested.”

“Being this ruthless won’t benefit you!”

Lian Yi swallowed, his throat dry and aching.

Lu Fang’s gaze grew colder. He stepped toward the opposite shore. “Ruthless? If my strength were weaker, you’d have killed me long ago—I recall you saying exactly that.”

“Don’t lecture me on morality.”

“I’m no saint. Killing you gives me zero guilt—especially since you’re a thoroughgoing wicked monk!”

“Your desperate struggle only proves you have no cards left.”

With that,

Petals of peach blossom reappeared around Lian Yi. His face twisted in fury—this damned transcendent power reduced him to half his strength.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled again.

Lu Fang’s Black Armor flared, shooting a golden light to land directly in Lian Yi’s escape path. He clasped his hands, gathering power.

Since entering Seventh Rank, the speed of fusing powerful souls had increased dramatically—in mere breaths, he’d already gathered the power of three souls.

His current “momentum” could fuse ten souls’ power—evidently, entering Seventh Rank had transformed his strength fundamentally.

A strike fused with six souls’ power would be enough to end Lian Yi now.

“Martial Soul—Azure Dragon’s Crescent Slash!”

The blade aura crept slowly into Lian Yi’s pupils, yet he could not move to evade.

He was a reincarnated monk!

His future path was meant to be brilliant and radiant.

To be slain here, in this Seventh Rank Lesser Upper Realm, by a Confucian scholar of only Seventh Rank, First Tier?

Thud!

Lian Yi’s head, eyes wide with disbelief, rolled across the sand, filled with unyielding resentment.

“Finally dead!”

Lu Fang’s expression was calm.

He pulled out an aura stone, absorbed the basketball-sized unclaimed aura rising from Lian Yi’s corpse, retrieved his storage pouch, then walked to the oasis’s clear water to wash the blood from his face and hands.

“The wicked monk is dead?”

Xiao Yunru shrank back into the sand pit.

Lu Fang fought for so long—could he be exhausted? Would now be a good moment to ambush him?

As Xiao Yunru weighed his options, peach petals drifted down before his eyes.