Chapter 72: Chapter 67: I'm Just a Businessman
Having just entered the Spirit Spring Realm and now facing a cultivator of the Entry Dao Realm along with a group of Spirit Spring Realm cultivators, the pressure was unspeakable, and Fu Quanliang's fingertips couldn't help trembling momentarily.
The Entry Dao Realm, that was the level of an Outer Sect Elder, and for the former him, it was practically heaven.
Though his heart was filled with fear, due to his trust in Chu Zheng, Fu Quanliang still tried to maintain his composure.
Waiting for Chu Zheng to find an opportunity to strike and kill all these people before him.
Just like with Jiang Cunhu that day.
"I knew the information was wrong."
Sensing the fluctuations in Fu Quanliang's aura, the man in blue clothes sneered coldly:
"How could Jiang Cunhu have possibly been killed by a seventh-layer Nourishing Power Realm cultivator? You're indeed a Spirit Spring Realm cultivator as well."
Xu Xinke retreated to Fu Quanliang's side, his back also drenched in sweat.
News of the Phantom Spirit Sect's battle with the Night Light Pavilion was known to all; these people wearing the Phantom Spirit Sect's robes, deep in the heartland of the sect, were obviously up to no good.
"Your Excellency..."
"Seal the mountain."
The man casually turned his head and uttered a phrase, interrupting Xu Xinke's words, and looked towards Fu Quanliang with a cold gaze:
"Today, the Tianhe Sect perishes."
Most of the Night Light Pavilion cultivators immediately followed the order and went to set up a formation, sealing off all directions; their actions were practiced, clearly not their first time doing such a thing.
Chu Zheng was still quiet, and sweat started to seep out on Fu Quanliang's forehead. His mind racing, he immediately raised his voice:
"Elder, please hold back. The Night Light Pavilion and Phantom Spirit Sect are in the midst of war. I can serve as an inside agent..."
Upon hearing this, the man's expression grew thoughtful, but after only a breath, he shook his head:
"Forget it, what use is there for a fence-sitter? Taking your head back can still net me two thousand spirit stones from Elder Jiang, better than nothing."
"Why only two thousand stones?"
Fu Quanliang ignored the preceding words, and couldn't help but retort. It turned out that the spirit stones Chu Zheng had just spent could have bought his life twice over.
After all, he is now a Spirit Spring Realm cultivator.
Whoosh—
A sharp whistling sound exploded, as a flying sword soared into the air, and in the blink of an eye, it was already slashing beside Fu Quanliang's neck!
The man in blue clothes was ruthless and decisive, with intent to kill in his breath, aiming straight for the head!
Clang—
A jade stele emerged, blocking in front of Fu Quanliang and stopping the flying sword.
"Daoist friend, please hold back your hand!"
An old man stepped quickly into the hall, his expression grave, his aura fluctuating, clearly having entered the Dao.
"True Person Nanfeng."
The man in blue clothes called back the flying sword and opened his mouth leisurely, a hint of disdain in his eyes, obviously not deeming the old man significant.
The flying sword was unscathed, while the jade stele now bore a sword mark nearly an inch deep, the superior and inferior clear at a glance.
"Master, they are people from the Night Light Pavilion!"
Seeing True Person Nanfeng arriving, Xu Xinke immediately spoke up, his panicked heart slightly steadied.
"Aren't you aware, Your Excellency?"
True Person Nanfeng's complexion darkened slightly, "In the Battle Pact between the Night Light Pavilion and Phantom Spirit Sect, it's clearly stated that attacks on other sects are strictly forbidden. If it's verified, Tai Xu Holy Land will intervene and punish severely... "
"This place is Phantom Spirit Sect territory. Even if an incident occurs, it would be Phantom Spirit Sect's doing, what does it have to do with us?"
The man in blue clothes let out a faint smile, then as if realizing something, he said:
"Ah, that's right, I haven't introduced myself. I am an Outer Sect Elder from the Night Light Pavilion, Lai Baojiang..."
Upon hearing him declare his identity, True Person Nanfeng's expression grew even more unsightly; such brazenness equated to treating them all as good as dead.
"Is there still room for negotiation, Daoist friend?" True Person Nanfeng still wanted to struggle a bit more.
"You can commit suicide, and I'll leave you a whole corpse..."
Lai Baojiang retracted the expression from his face, leaving only coldness, and even before the words were fully out, a fierce aura-wind suddenly howled by his ear.
In an instant, his expression drastically changed, wanting to retreat, but his movements became significantly slower, just barely moving half his body aside, a step too late.
A large spear stabbed out from the void, its edge so sharp and cold that it penetrated Lai Baojiang's left shoulder in an instant, and with a swift motion, ripped off his entire left arm.
His reaction was extremely quick; his flesh writhed to stop the gushing blood, and he withdrew, retreating from the grand hall in a breath.
Only at this moment did the few cultivators from Night Light Pavilion within the hall barely react, all their faces drastically changing as they turned and fled.
Chu Zheng stepped out of the void without a moment's pause, as swift as a breeze, arriving faster than those who acted before him. In the space of three breaths, he thrust out his spear several times, effortlessly shattering the back of a few heads.
The Immortal Bone Fragment, emitting a faint glow, was mixed with scattered brain matter.
His current strength was vastly different from the time in the Song Residence; Spirit Spring Realm cultivators couldn't withstand a single strike from him.
Add to that a Fourth Order spear in his hand, which was like adding wings to a tiger.
Following Chu Zheng's wielding of the large spear, Lai Baojiang's expression gradually changed, somewhat incredulously:
"A top quality magical treasure?! Who are you?"
Such high-level magic treasures, even Divine Infant Realm cultivators wouldn't have many.
"To arms!" Lai Baojiang bellowed, wishing to summon back his disciples who had sealed off the mountain.
Despite his severe injuries, he remained extremely calm. The person before him was merely at the level of the Spirit Spring Realm. Even with his severe wound, having several sect brothers to help would make capturing this man not a difficult task.
At that time... this top quality magical treasure would also fall into his hands.
However, there was dead silence in the wilderness, no response whatsoever.
"They are all dead."
Chu Zheng stepped calmly out of the grand hall, swinging the spear to flick the fresh blood off its tip, and spoke indifferently:
"I'm a businessman."
He had never crossed hands with an Entry Dao Realm cultivator before, naturally needing to secure a retreat first, killing the cultivators who had sealed off the roads was the best strategy.
Even if he couldn't defeat the enemy, he would still be able to come and go freely.
Lai Baojiang's complexion changed, and he stared fixedly at Chu Zheng, his flying sword hovering before him, the mana within his body rushing to the Dao Foundation in his Dantian as he began to consider retreating.
In his mind, thoughts raced as he contemplated how to escape; in terms of speed, the man before him definitely couldn't catch up with him...
Pfft!
Before he could take any action, a warmth pierced his chest, and his expression became fixed. Lowering his head, he saw a wooden sword protruding from his chest, its broken edge black as if burnt.
Before he could react, the view before his eyes blurred, the wooden sword vanished without a trace, followed by a sudden warmth at his neck, and a whirl in his vision before he sank into darkness.
Chu Zheng put away his long spear and recalled his Heavenly Aura Sword, gaining a rough understanding of his own strength.
Even in direct combat, he wouldn't be weaker than an Early Dao Entry Realm cultivator; in fact, he might be stronger by a fraction.
To have reached this level of power in less than a year of cultivation was already no small feat.
Clang—
The flying sword, without anyone to control it, fell from the sky with a crisp sound.
Fu Quanliang rushed out of the grand hall, his face still pale, legs trembling slightly, breathing heavily. Seemingly venting his frustration, he fiercely kicked away the severed head of Lai Baojiang.
A bloodstain was still visible on his neck, weeping blood, grazed by the sword qi earlier; he had been a hair's breadth away from decapitation.
After calming himself for a moment, he picked up the nearby flying sword and began to clean up the battlefield, collecting Storage Bags from the corpses one by one.
"Thank you, Daoist Friend, for your help. May I ask your name?"
True Person Nanfeng strode over, bowing in gratitude, his face full of thanks.
If not for Chu Zheng, Tianhe Sect would surely no longer exist.
"I am Fu Quanliang. The one from before was my elder brother Fu Liang; those people got it wrong earlier."
Chu Zheng casually replied without revealing his true name, then suggested:
"I recommend that True Person Nanfeng take Tianhe Sect somewhere to lie low for a while. Night Light Pavilion may have more than just this group of people nearby."
"Thank you for the advice. I will take my disciples to Illusory Spirit City and report this matter to Tai Xu Holy Land through Phantom Spirit Sect," said True Person Nanfeng, nodding repeatedly, as this was also his plan.
Moments later, Xu Xinke, who had vanished just moments before, rushed over, presenting a brocade box with both hands:
"This is the Fire Seed Daoist Friend Fu requested. There's no need for the Spirit Stones; consider it a gift of gratitude from Tianhe Sect."
Chu Zheng did not elaborate, simply pocketing the brocade box. Five thousand Spirit Stones was not a small sum, and saving them was naturally better since he wasn't so extravagant to ignore such an amount.
After a while, Fu Quanliang approached with a spring in his step and a hint of joy on his face, his waist adorned with more than ten Storage Bags.
The corpses of the Night Light Pavilion were stripped bare, not even their vestment robes left behind.