Cultivators Are So Weak in This World-Chapter 84 - 82 Marching, Part 2

Outside the main hall.

A middle-aged man with graying whiskers lowered his longbow slowly, exhaling lightly with a smile on his face.

A clear knife scar ran from his right eye, cutting downward. Almost making him blind.

Yet at this moment, the scar instead added a bit of fierceness to him.

"Lord Zhao truly possesses Innate Divine Power, his strength is indeed extraordinary," a red-haired Huxi person beside him clapped and praised.

"Not at all, compared to the dual blade skills of your Dog King, my skill is nothing," Zhao Yuetian humbly replied.

As the chief supervisor for Sea Dragon in Huaxin County, he was already quite dissatisfied with the supervisor on Tan Yang’s side.

So taking advantage of this opportunity, if he could make a significant contribution successfully, in contrast to the previous accidents on Tan Yang’s side,

one’s gain would be another’s loss, he might replace him and take charge of the division in Tan Yang.

Therefore, to ensure everything was foolproof this time, he personally led the elites to participate in the encirclement and slaughter.

"Your Excellency, part of Zhang Xuan’s subordinates have shrunk back to the Profound Heart Hall, while another part went to Shangde Garden," a bodyguard came forward to report. "The deputy over by Fang Qi is asking about our next steps."

"No rush, what about that old Daoist Zhang Xuan?"

"Zhang Xuan is currently exchanging blows with Palace Master Tang Sha and has already fled to the back mountain."

"Let’s take care of Zhang Xuan first before saying more, the rest are no more than weaklings,"

praised Zhao Yuetian.

He knew of Tang Sha’s prowess; if they were to face off, he would certainly lose within twenty moves.

Yet Zhang Xuan alone managed to face both Tang Sha and Fang Qi and somehow held on this long.

Putting down the bow, he took the scimitar handed over by his subordinate and led a few people quickly toward the side alley of the main hall.

That was the direction leading to the back mountain.

*

*

*

Qinghe Palace Mountain Gate.

Zhang Rongfang gazed from afar at the guarded mountain gate, lifting his wish wheel. He was about to step forward.

"How are you going to get up there? An internal conflict should be starting up there soon."

A somewhat familiar voice floated from behind.

Zhang Rongfang was slightly taken aback and turned around to look.

Qingsu had also arrived.

She was still wearing a mask, clad in leather armor, with an extra short knife in her hand.

"Why are you here?" Zhang Rongfang asked, puzzled.

"After you left, I remembered you didn’t give me the Feather Talisman," Qingsu replied calmly.

"And you haven’t answered how you plan to get up there either?"

Zhang Rongfang did not reply, casually tossing the Feather Talisman back to her, then proceeded forward with the wish wheel.

Soon he reached the front of the mountain gate.

"Who goes there?" The guards were several Martial Cultivator disciples in Taoist robes and white coats.

There were both men and women among them.

"I am Zhang Rongfang, having been tasked elsewhere, returning now, please check my credentials,"

Zhang Rongfang stated, handing over his identification document.

Since the mountain was still being guarded by Daoists, it seemed there was still time.

He felt a slight relief in his heart.

Among the guards at the mountain gate, an older Daoist stepped forward, took the document, and glanced through it.

"Sorry, the mountain gate is closed today. If you have business, you can return tomorrow," he said, dismissing him without even examining the document carefully, tossing it back to Zhang Rongfang.

Zhang Rongfang frowned, about to speak.

"Zhang Rongfang? Is it really you!?" Suddenly, a Kun Dao stepped out from behind the group.

The newcomer had a fair complexion, well-defined features, and a calm demeanor. It was Situ Nan, someone Zhang Rongfang knew from when he was a menial disciple.

Situ Nan’s face stiffened, wanting to speak, but he swallowed his words.

"Situ, why are you here?" Zhang Rongfang noted the peculiarity sharply.

Why would Situ Nan, also a Martial Cultivator disciple, be at the mountain gate doing guard duty?

"I was assigned to guard the mountain gate. There’s important business at the Taoist Palace today, if you wish to enter, return tomorrow,"

Situ Nan gritted his teeth, a glint of reluctance in his eyes, still advising him not to go up the mountain.

"Tomorrow?" Zhang Rongfang fell silent, scanning the people in front of him.

There was only this one path to reach the mountain quickly via Qinghe Palace. If he were to take a detour through other routes, it would consume a lot more time.

Therefore....

"What if I insist on going up the mountain today?"

"Insist?" The middle-aged Daoist chuckled, "Interesting, then you can try."

Zhang Rongfang said no more.

He raised his head, gazing upwards, catching faint sounds carried by the wind.

Whoosh.

Gripping his wish wheel, he stepped forward.

Suddenly, there was a blur of movement.

The group of guarding Daoists briefly saw their vision blur, and the cold smile remained on the face of the middle-aged Daoist.

A crisp blood-curdling sound followed.

His eyes blanked, his head catapulted into the air.

The headless body slowly kneeled down.

By the time the body fell, the others finally reacted in horror, letting out screams.

Zhang Rongfang’s figure had already rushed through the mountain gate, transforming into a black streak heading uphill.

His speed far exceeded the so-called third level.

Qingsu at the back didn’t register it in time, just moments ago, she was still waiting for Zhang Rongfang’s response.

But....

"This...."

"That body technique....!!"

Her body trembled slightly.

It wasn’t awe, but horror.

A cold shiver shot up from her tailbone to the top of her head.

In that instant, if she were the one blocking it....

Qingsu felt a chill in her heart.

For the answer was already clear to her.

That strike, even she couldn’t survive.

"This is simply not a third level body technique!! Zhang Rongfang.... you hid yourself so well!!"

She repressed her goosebumps, clenched her teeth, and accelerated up the mountain to catch up.

She wanted to see firsthand what Zhang Rongfang intended to do!

At the mountain gate.

For a moment, only Situ Nan and the others were left, pale-faced, staring at the headless body, unable to recover from the sudden turn of events.

Bam!!

At the second gate of the mountain, the wooden door of the welcoming hall was smashed open with great force.

The door fell, and the two Daoists holding sticks inside turned to look.

In an instant, two blossoms of blood bloomed.

The two men clutched their throats in bewilderment, slowly collapsing to the ground.

In the shadows behind them, Zhang Rongfang retracted his wish wheel, with a calm expression, passed through the welcoming hall, and arrived at the inner door.

What Qingsu said was not wrong.

As long as his speed was fast enough, the enemy would always be just one.

Creak.

The inner door opened, revealing the dojo inside still in fierce combat.

Two leather-armored soldiers with swords and shields roared as they swung their swords at him.

The silver blade was almost dyed dark red by blood.

Swish.

The blade grazed past Zhang Rongfang’s side, missing its mark.

He sidestepped forward, flashing like a shadow between the two.

Splurt.

The two soldiers clutched their bleeding necks, unable to get up as they fell to the ground.

No need to strike, just put the distance wound in the right place, and everything was over.

Further away, a robust martial cultivator saw this and roared lowly, holding his knife with both hands, spinning as he charged fiercely.

Clang!

The giant machete, more than a man’s length, slashed heavily onto the ground tiles, embedding half of the blade.

Zhang Rongfang’s figure flickered and appeared behind the robust man, beads of blood slowly dripping from the blade.

The man stood stiff on the spot, his whole body slowly splitting into two sections from the waist, sliding to the ground.

Only at this moment did Qingsu rush over from behind.

Her scalp tingled as she looked at the corpses all over the way.

It was only now she realized what kind of person she had provoked earlier.

Having killed seven or eight people in a row, Zhang Rongfang also took down a few small leaders.

Such a defiance turned the tide, allowing Zhang Xintai and the others blocked in the Profound Heart Hall a gasp of breath, beginning to roar and counter-charge.

Qingsu gently exhaled; at this point, Zhang Rongfang’s figure was nowhere to be seen on the field.

He was like a deadly snake in the shadows, only a glimpse of him would be seen before someone was killed.

Before long, the chaotic troops belonging to Sea Dragon and Fang Qi dwindled.

Some even suddenly found half of their teammates missing, immediately scared and dropping their weapons, fleeing.

These so-called chaotic troops were mostly just ordinary farmers months ago.

The remaining Daoists under Tang Sha gradually got cornered by Zhang Xintai and others who had counter-attacked.

The scene was a tangled mess, fighting everywhere.

Qingsu struggled to find Zhang Rongfang’s figure.

But with her fourth-grade physique, she still found it difficult to track his movements.

Meanwhile, while pursuing him, she had already seen several corpses of elite third-grade Sea Dragon experts.

These experts, only slightly weaker than herself, now lay like trash on the ground, gradually growing cold.

This made her grow increasingly cold inside.

She understood that this Zhang Rongfang was definitely not some third-grade!

His strength far exceeded what she imagined!

Finally, her sight caught a blurred black shadow.

It was Zhang Rongfang!

He was rising from a corpse, seemingly interrogating some information, and walked straight towards a side alley.

Qingsu gritted her teeth, quickly following.

*

*

*

The back mountain.

Amid rows of drying Daoist robes.

Two figures rapidly crossed paths, occasionally emitting heavy sounds of combat.

Pieces of clothing were torn apart by great force, tossed up, and scattered and floated in the mountain wind.

Before long, Tang Sha’s chest kept heaving as he stepped back several paces and stopped.

He was old too. To fight like this was already quite a feat.

Opposite him, Zhang Xuan had blood on the corner of his mouth, also heavily injured. But the key was not this; having fought for so long, their stamina couldn’t hold.

"Hahahahaha!!"

Nearby Zhao Yuetian laughed heartily, approaching with his men, holding a curved knife.

"Palace Master Tang, it seems you are indeed old. After so long, you still can’t take down just one Zhang Xuan. Need me to lend a hand?"

Zhang Xuan looked at the newcomers, especially Zhao Yuetian at the forefront, who was a fourth-grade leader of Sea Dragon, said to be quite formidable with his Splashing Wind Saber Skill, allegedly causing no water to enter.

Now he was nearly exhausted, struggling to hold on, hoping for the three leaders of the Han family to support timely.

But.... The support turned out to be these Sea Dragon villains!

Zhang Xuan’s heart sank straight down.

Recalling this hasty uprising, initially believing in the united brotherhood, believing in life-and-death alliances.

Only now realizing, those people, those matters, were all false.

For appeasement, Fang Qi’s men could go this far....

"But fortunately, at least Hong Yan and Rongfang are outside."

"Hong Yan is already pregnant... As for Rongfang... too bad... won’t get to see his fame spread worldwide later...."

On the other side.

"Age catches up, after all, I am no longer young...." Tang Sha did not insist; since someone offered help, he would not refuse.

"I would be grateful for Mr. Zhao’s assistance."

He clasped his hands in salute towards Zhao Yuetian.

Zhao Yuetian laughed, brandishing his sword forward.

After a few steps, he suddenly sensed something was off and abruptly turned.

Behind.

Among the three subordinates he brought, two had already fallen in pools of blood.

The last one strived to stretch his hand, attempting to alert him.

Splat.

The arm dropped, and a large hand loosened its grip on the neck.

The large hand hung down, fingertips letting drops of blood fall.

"Now."

In the dark, someone slowly approached.

"It’s one-on-one again."

Zhang Rongfang raised his head, looking at Zhao Yuetian ahead, his face flecked with splattered blood stains.

"Sorry, Master, I’m late."

Then, as before, he raised his head to meet Zhang Xuan’s startled gaze.