Chapter 115: An Old Foe

Watching Yang Rui depart, Wang Heng and Lou Yu left the pier. Their servants brought over their horses.

Lou Yu’s mount was a magnificent Dayuan horse, its chestnut coat sleek and glossy, its hooves clattering with an air of untamed arrogance. Wang Heng’s horse was also a Dayuan, a gift from Lou Yu. It was a snow-white mare, far more docile than Lou Yu’s stallion. Wang Heng was not particularly tall and had a stout build, but thanks to her habit of jogging, she remained reasonably agile.

Laser weapons fired wildly. With the status of Ling Yi and Jiang Weidong unknown, the spacecraft lurched violently, and all external monitors went black. He had deliberately left that loophole unaddressed when drafting the loose contract with Tianze Media, fully confident in his ability to handle the consequences. His eyes were vivid with emotion, and even the subtle twitch of his index finger carried a lethal, bewitching charm.

Now that Ashina Yu'er had spoken, wasn't he being dragged into this mess? Once Ashina Wuliang knew what he was privy to, would he ever let him leave alive?

Gu Shangqian, given his status, had never visited public places like amusement parks due to the noise, but he tolerated Steward Jin accompanying her. Jiang Yousui answered casually, then scrambled off the bed in excitement, warmly greeting Zhang Biao.

Xia Xingyu broke into a cold sweat, realizing that he had instinctively weighed the pros and cons of accepting, completely ignoring the fact that the act itself was fundamentally wrong.

Disguised as Li Yanzong and embedded among the masters of the Western Xia’s Yipintang, Murong Fu unleashed the "Sorrowful Wind of Refreshing Breeze." Everyone affected lost their strength and collapsed, becoming lambs for the slaughter. Although Su Yu was desperate for demon cores, he understood the distinction between hunting demons for profit and throwing his life away.

Staring at the flying sword hovering in mid-air, a thought struck Xia Xingyu. "Got it!" With a leap, he vaulted onto the blade.

The leader in black could not fathom the origins of Lin Yu and his companion. With a burst of spiritual energy, he charged with a fierce gust of wind. Lin Yu faltered, and the leader seized the moment to strike, but before he could move, the Canhong sword was already before his eyes. Lu Lingmeng moved in to cover, and the two resumed their battle.

The man raised a hand, his long sword effortlessly suppressing the "Wind Cutter" and dissolving Ze Mu’s martial technique into nothingness.

Against ordinary martial artists, it wouldn't be an issue; a rabble like Yu Wen’s men would have scattered long ago. Even against regular troops, with equal numbers, they might not have been able to hold the line.

As his popularity grew, Wu Haoqing’s career took off after joining the Mortal Martial Association. Six years ago, following the unexpected death of the old president and with backing from powerful figures, he ascended naturally to the presidency.

Gui Mei twitched his lips and remarked, "I suppose I'm quite lucky, then." The pain of the stitches was comparable to the wound itself.

Suddenly, the battlefield, previously filled with deafening shouts of war, was shrouded in a deathly silence. It lasted until an elf player, unable to bear the brutal atmosphere of slaughter, let out a heart-wrenching wail, dropped his weapon, and fled the field.

Upon hearing Liu Yingying’s words, Li Yuanqing looked even more ashamed. He had never imagined that the root of the entire situation was like this.

"This is the Sword Tomb of Qian Cang and Kun Xi." After saying this, the Sect Master stood before the two mounds, motionless for a long time, as if he had turned into a statue. Lin Zimu had been devoted to the sword all his life, and after enduring countless hardships, he had finally attained the Will of the Sword.

Passing through yet another winding secret passage, Yu Bin raised a hand, signaling Elan to be on high alert. They hid behind a stone wall, peering out to observe the movements within the cavern by the faint light filtering from the other end.

She had seen it clearly: the assassin had fired a silver needle at Mo Yuanshen, aiming, it seemed, for his chest.

Having said this, the Six-Eared Macaque quickly snapped awake from his dream, unwilling to continue the conversation with Guanyin.