Return of the Immortal Emperor Daddy-Chapter 133 Asura Descends

Driven by fury, Wujizi charged at Zhang Jifeng. Zhang Jifeng faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was too late. Wujizi’s left fist, already encased in Inner Strength, slammed into his chest.

Instantly, Zhang Jifeng’s body was sent flying backward like a basketball, crashing into a large tree and snapping it in two. He felt as if his entire body had been shattered.

"You’d better shut your mouth," Wujizi said, his voice dripping with anger and mockery. "I’m in a rage right now, and I wouldn’t mind killing one more person."

The surrounding Wudang disciples looked on with worry but dared not act. They feared death, knowing that all of them together were no match for Wujizi. They were outer sect disciples; some hadn’t even learned the most basic Wudang martial arts. Wujizi, however, was different. He was the Sect Leader who held the true teachings of Wudang. The disparity in their strength was simply too vast.

The Wudang disciples all looked toward Zhang Jifeng, only to find him clenching his jaw, preparing to stand up again. In his eyes, there was persistence, tenacity, defiance, and above all, unwavering determination.

CREAK.

His sternum protested, but Zhang Jifeng still forced himself to stand, his gaze locked on Wujizi as blood trickled relentlessly from the corner of his mouth.

"Wrong! It’s simply wrong!"

"No matter what you say, you are in the wrong, Martial Uncle," Zhang Jifeng said, utterly unafraid.

"Then you can die along with this couple," Wujizi said, his eyes revealing an unspeakable ferocity. He would kill these people to pave the way for Lu Yunsheng.

The True Martial Sword in his hand slashed out, a cold glint of light aiming to simultaneously sever the throats of Zhang Jifeng and the couple. It should have succeeded, but alas, the law that villains die because they talk too much is immutable.

As the sword swung, Wujizi laughed loudly, "No one can save you now! Hahahaha..."

No one?

Just as the blade was about to slice their necks, a blood-red mist suddenly spread across the peak of Wudang Mountain, completely enveloping Wujizi and the others.

"What’s happening?"

"I have no idea."

The Wudang disciples were all astonished.

Wujizi also stared at the Blood Mist in surprise. He had lived on Wudang Mountain for so long, yet he had never witnessed such a bizarre scene.

At the same time, a Blood Glow swept through the mist.

"Ah!"

Wujizi had no time to react. He could only watch in horror as his left arm was sent flying—it had been severed completely. A torrent of blood spurted from the wound, and the intense pain caused Wujizi’s body to tremble as he let out a scream of agony.

He couldn’t believe it. Even if one of the Seven Saints of Dragon Country attacked him, his arm shouldn’t have been severed before he even realized what was happening.

"Who? Who on earth is it?"

Wujizi roared with rage from within the Blood Mist. Through the haze, the Wudang disciples could just make out that their Sect Leader’s arm had been severed. In their eyes, Wujizi was the greatest expert of Wudang; they could never have imagined a day when he would lose an arm.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

Everyone heard the sound and hastily looked, only to find that the approaching figure was not walking on the ground, but stepping through the air, one tap at a time. The air seemed to form an invisible staircase for this person. Within the Blood Mist, no one could clearly see his true face.

The Wudang disciples were shocked. Could this be an Immortal descending to the mortal realm? Are mortals unworthy of beholding His true face?

"You... who exactly are you?" Wujizi asked, startled, his voice filled with a horror that betrayed his fear.

Wujizi had once met the number one expert of Dragon Country. That man could leap from one tree to another and even tread on blades of grass as if flying, but he absolutely couldn’t do what the person before him was doing.

Is this person a man? Or a ghost?

"You know of Lu Yunsheng, don’t you?" The voice from within the Blood Mist was light, like that of a Heavenly God looking down on all creation.

"I do, I do!" Hearing this, Wujizi nodded quickly. He seemed to remember something and hastily added, "Lu Yunsheng is my disciple. Of course, my talent is meager, and I’ve recently realized I’m unworthy of teaching a fine talent like him. Now that I have met an expert such as yourself, I can..."

Wujizi’s intention to pass off his disciple was clear, but Wu Tian’s next words left him dumbstruck.

"You have the gall to call a dog-like creature a fine talent? Are you an idiot, or do you take everyone else for fools?"

Wujizi trembled. He wasn’t stupid; he realized this person must hold a grudge against Lu Yunsheng. Thinking quickly, he pleaded, his voice thick with unconcealed panic and anxiety, "Senior, expert, if Lu Yunsheng has offended you, please don’t blame him! If you must vent your anger, direct it all at me. This humble Taoist is willing to bear it all. I beg you, please!"

From within the Blood Mist, Wu Tian gazed indifferently at Wujizi, the corners of his mouth curling into a cruel, bloodthirsty arc. "He’s already dead."

"What!" Wujizi’s body shook violently, the shock momentarily erasing the pain from his severed arm. Despair filled his eyes as tears streamed down his old face. "Why? Why? Why! I would rather die myself! You... you’re too cruel."

Wu Tian watched this display coldly. When you were killing others, Wujizi, did you ever consider their feelings? Now that it’s your turn, you feel this is the greatest pain in the world? And you call others cruel?

"If you’re so loath to part with him, then go and accompany him." Wu Tian resumed his walk, treading on the air.

"Is that a human?"

"How can a person walk on air?"

"He must be an Immortal! Think about it, our Taoist lore says that when Laozi departed through Hangu Pass, a purple aura heralded his coming from the east for thirty thousand miles! Look at this Blood Mist spreading across the entire Wudang Mountain—it’s just like that holy spectacle!"

"Yes, he’s definitely not a mortal."

All the Wudang Taoists stood dumbstruck, their hearts profoundly shaken. They forgot what they were supposed to do, simply watching the scene unfold in silence.

Zhang Jifeng felt the same. He had been certain he would die here today, but now a divine being had unexpectedly descended upon Wudang. Though he couldn’t see the being’s face, Zhang Jifeng committed the voice to memory. He was certain that if he ever heard it again, he would recognize it instantly.

Wu Tian’s Spiritual Sense enveloped the entirety of Wudang Mountain. Down at the base, reporters had arrived, but with the peak shrouded in Blood Mist, they were unable to ascend. Simultaneously, Wu Tian perceived the expression on every Wudang disciple’s face. He committed their features to memory, seeing at a glance who deserved to die and who did not.

"Die."

Wu Tian made no move; he had only uttered a single word.

Instantly, streaks of Blood Glow materialized from thin air within the Blood Mist. One shot toward Wujizi, while the others flew toward the other Taoists who deserved to die.

At that moment, everyone, both on Wudang Mountain and below, felt their scalps go numb with terror and their hair stand on end.