Twin Dimension Yin-Yang Mirror: Attaining immortality through the martial path-Chapter 839 - 647: Where’s the Reward? + - 648: No Heir_3

Chapter 839: Chapter 647: Where’s the Reward? + Chapter 648: No Heir_3

The sounds of retching and exclamations echoed together.

Some timid individuals were already inching backward.

The fact that they hadn’t turned and fled was only because of the awe-inspiring reputation of the Heavenly Martial King, which gave them a sliver of confidence.

To dare commit murder at the inheritance ceremony of the Heavenly Martial King, and to kill his direct grandson, it was beyond boldness—this could only be described as absolute disregard for others, as if the legendary Heavenly Martial King, who had shaken Da Xuan for fifty years, was nothing but a joke.

"Does he have a death wish?"

"This madman, how could he dare?"

"Quickly leave. The Heavenly Martial Prince Mansion is filled with elite warriors; they will surely encircle and kill him on the spot. Don’t get caught in the crossfire."

Before these esteemed guests in the grand hall could take three steps away, a furious howl cut through the air. A shadow materialized, transforming into a whirlwind that rushed toward Zhou Ping’an.

It was Zhao Wuque. His blade turned into a foggy black light, conjuring the Nine Heavens Gang Wind, carrying an aura of absolute destruction, and aimed directly at Zhou Ping’an’s chest.

Clearly, Zhao Wuque intended to slice Zhou Ping’an into two with this strike.

Only then could he quell the rage in his heart.

"Useless."

A flash of cold brilliance appeared in Zhou Ping’an’s eyes.

With a slight shift of his thoughts, an imperceptible movement of his body orifices triggered the third acupoint, Golden Brightness.

Cang Yue’s precious blade once again drew an exquisite streak of azure radiance.

The space before him split apart, revealing a fine black fissure.

Although Zhao Wuque’s rushing speed was unmatched, and his Nine Heavens Gang Wind-infused blade was immensely fierce—even top-tier grandmasters around the world would have no choice but to retreat and parry—he hadn’t even managed to fully close in.

His blade was half a foot away from Zhou Ping’an’s chest when both himself and his weapon were cleaved in two.

A head with wide, angered eyes flew high into the air, spinning before it fell.

With a thud, it hit the ground simultaneously with the blood-gushing corpse.

The severed head rolled several yards away.

Then, it rolled back to the feet of the Heavenly Martial King.

"See, isn’t this more reasonable? You were impatient..."

Zhou Ping’an’s expression remained calm. He looked at the Heavenly Martial King, whose face had turned ghostly pale, and smiled, saying, "Is the mission complete now? If not, I can put in extra effort by slaughtering every last person in your mansion, wiping out your collateral families and retainers as well."

"You... demon!" Zhao Sanye suddenly dashed out. His round, heavyset frame moved with surprising quickness as he ran to the two-parts corpse of his son. He cried out loud in grief, pointing a finger at Zhou Ping’an and cursing vehemently.

Swish...

Another streak of sword light flashed by.

He had barely uttered a single insult when his head flew off as well.

The Heavenly Martial King stood in place, trembling all over, watching helplessly without taking action.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to intervene; he was simply too old, his vitality nearly depleted.

Should he make an unsuccessful move, he would instantly die of old age.

What would follow was all too clear, even without thinking.

The enemy was brimming with killing intent, clearly enraged beyond reason.

If he were to perish, then everyone related to the Heavenly Martial Zhao Family would likely face complete annihilation.

No one in this world could save his family.

Not even the Emperor.

Heavenly Martial King Zhao Yuangang himself was among the greatest grandmasters in the world. Even in his final moments, his judgment remained sharp as ever.

Thus, he saw the truth more clearly than anyone.

The few strikes Zhou Ping’an had unleashed...

Even if he were at his peak, he wouldn’t necessarily be able to fend them off—most likely, he would die in one blow.

His sworn brother, Zhao Wuque, known as the Wind Spirit Sword, though inferior to him in commanding troops, was a match for any grandmaster in a duel, often emerging unbeaten.

Even if he had battled his sworn brother, it would have taken dozens to hundreds of maneuvers before securing victory.

And even then, he wouldn’t necessarily have been able to take Zhao Wuque’s life.

Wind Attribute techniques were especially adept at speed and survival.

Yet such a master, an expert in self-preservation, crumbled like wet paper against Zhou Ping’an’s blade.

The opponent’s strikes could even tear through space itself.

Neither spiritual weapons nor divine treasure armor could withstand it—they might as well have been nonexistent.

Far beyond the martial arts level of this world, Zhao Yuangang couldn’t even comprehend the strikes, let alone defend against them.

For the first time, Zhao Yuangang deeply regretted the task he had issued.

He also loathed his own small-minded schemes.

What was I thinking, trying to use Shadow Pavilion’s mercenaries from the Outer Domain to divert attention?

Were the few Heavenly Star Stones really worth it? They were nothing but supplements for the Golden Thunder Sword’s consumption. If they were depleted, I could find more over time—why provoke such a monster?

"Fine, I will give the reward..."

Zhao Yuangang cried out in despair.

Murky tears streamed down his face.

His figure shook, overwhelmed with grief.

The illegitimate son he had hidden for forty-five years, the grandson he had kept in secrecy for eighteen years, and his sworn brother of fifty-three years—all perished before his eyes in a single day.

And he was utterly powerless.

He could protect a nation but couldn’t shelter his own family.

What he once thought—a belief that heaven and earth could offer no rivals—now seemed naive and arrogant. He realized he was nothing more than a frog at the bottom of a well, ignorant of the vastness of the world...

The Heavenly Martial King’s spirit collapsed in an instant.

"See? Wouldn’t this have saved us all the trouble?"

Zhou Ping’an said with a chuckle.

Suddenly, a booming voice came from outside the door. "What vile scoundrel dares wreak havoc in Yujing by killing—are we Da Xuan bereft of people?"

Two figures streaked into the hall with howling speed.

One wore flowing robes and held a golden brush that emitted a piercing glow.

The other had a pale, clean-shaven face with a sinister expression; his narrow sword flowed like clouds and smoke, his form seemingly illusory.

"Stop..."

The Heavenly Martial King only managed half a sentence.

Blood rained down from the air.

Crash...

Four dismembered bodies dropped to the ground, filling the room with a visceral stench.

A knife flash, sharp as tearing silk, rent through the air again. The massive stone pillars in the grand hall split apart.

The sword light soared into the heavens.

Zhou Ping’an sheathed his blade and glanced at the two newly dismembered individuals—a scholar and an eunuch—without bothering to question their identities.

However, from the terrified murmurs of the trembling dignitaries and wealthy merchants in the hall, it was easy to discern that these two must have been famed Spiritual Weapon Masters and trusted confidants of the Emperor.

Were they here to demonstrate their loyalty to the Heavenly Martial King or display the authority of the royal family?

Either way, it didn’t matter—it only took one strike.

Zhou Ping’an couldn’t be bothered with their motives.

He looked up at the Heavenly Martial King, "Now, where are the Heavenly Star Stones?"

"Quickly, fetch them!"

The Heavenly Martial King urgently commanded.

The Old Madam of the Prince Mansion trembled violently, like a leaf in the wind, as she turned toward the inner chambers. Within ten breaths, she returned with a black wooden box.

At this moment, the once-graceful and dignified Old Madam resembled nothing more than a bent-over elderly peasant woman stripped of all grandeur.

"Ten. Not bad."

Zhou Ping’an accepted the box and opened it, revealing stones of various bright colors.

Each stone brimmed with potent and mysterious energy, perfectly resonating with his Heavenly Origin Nine Acupoint Technique.

Flipping his hand, he stored the box away in his spatial pouch, laughing heartily, "Now for the second half of the mission: the succession."

He waved his hand, motioning for Zhao Yuanshou and Zhao Yuanke, who were hiding among the crowd, to step forward.

...

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