Chapter 82: Bai Clan (2)
"Nascent Soul Realm!"
The horrified gasp of Elder Bai Mo had barely escaped his bleeding lips before the reality of the situation violently escalated.
In a fraction of a second, the grand main hall of the Bai family estate plunged into a supernatural darkness. It was not merely the snuffing out of the braziers, it was as if the very concept of light had been forcibly exiled from the room by a higher dimension. The elders, already pinned flat against the floor by the sudden aura, found themselves completely blind. Panic seized the hearts of the inner circle. They could not see their own hands, nor could they see the man groveling right next to them. They were isolated in a pitch black void, entirely at the mercy of anyone.
Then, at the absolute front of the room, exactly where the elevated throne of the Clan Head was situated, a sound pierced the silence.
Bzzzt... Crackle.
A terrifying arc of purple lightning violently sparked into existence. It did not illuminate the room, but rather, it began to crackle and weave around the edges of the throne. The arcs of lightning danced across the throne, casting a violet silhouette of a person seated casually upon it. The intruder was reclining upon the seat that represented the Bai Clan’ s absolute authority, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, his posture completely relaxed and unhurried.
Down on the floor, Patriarch Bai Changkong felt a surge of unyielding fury override his terror.
He had ruled the Bai Clan for decades. He had navigated the treacherous political waters of the city, clashed with the Wang and Xu Clans, and shed blood to secure the foundation of his family. To be pressed into the dirt like a common dog was already a supreme humiliation, but seeing a faceless intruder casually seated upon his throne, the very symbol of everything he had spent his life building, was a desecration his pride simply could not endure.
What level of disrespect is this?! Patriarch Bai Changkong roared within his own mind, his bloodshot eyes glaring at the purple silhouette in the darkness.
"I am the Patriarch of the Bai Clan!" Bai Changkong shouted aloud, his voice echoing with desperate fury.
Biting the tip of his tongue, he violently burned a massive portion of his blood essence. His mid-to-late Core Formation aura erupted like a dying star, momentarily forcing back the spiritual pressure pressing down on his spine. Drawing upon every single drop of martial power he had cultivated over centuries, Bai Changkong condensed his Qi into a razor-sharp, invisible blade and launched himself upward, attempting to strike the arrogant figure seated upon his throne.
He didn’t even make it a single foot off the ground.
The purple silhouette on the throne didn’t even flinch. The intruder merely exerted a fraction of a thought.
BOOM!
The Nascent Soul aura in the room did not merely return; it multiplied tenfold. The pressure became so phenomenally dense that the very air seemed to solidify into iron. Bai Changkong’s desperate attack was shattered in an instant.
The Patriarch was violently slammed back down, but this time, the trajectory was different. His body was dragged forcefully across the floor, his robes tearing as his skin scraped against the jagged stone. He was dragged several yards before finally coming to a humiliating, abrupt halt.
Bai Changkong gasped for air, his vision swimming. He realized, with a sickening jolt of absolute despair, that his bruised and battered face was now pressed firmly against the boot of the intruder sitting on the throne. He was literally kissing the feet of his conqueror.
With a slow flick of the intruder’s arm, the absolute darkness was banished.
Fwoosh!
The fires within the braziers lining the hall violently came back to life, roaring with towering flames that quickly settled into a bright, illuminating orange glow.
The sudden return of light revealed the true horror of the room to the groveling elders. Their Patriarch, the strongest man they knew, was lying completely immobilized, his cheek pressed against a black leather boot. And seated upon the throne, clad in elegant black-and-white Daoist robes adorned with golden embroidery, was the intruder.
It was Lin Yuan!
His purple eyes looked down at the Bai Clan’s inner circle with a cold impartiality. He looked entirely relaxed, possessing the casual grace of a monarch surveying a conquered province.
Of course, looking at the handsome features of the Lin Yuan, absolutely no one in the room recognized him.
Patriarch Bai Changkong, his face still pressed against Lin Yuan’s boot, desperately rolled his eyes upward to lock his gaze on the man. His mind reeled as he frantically tried to identity the monster who had just subdued his entire clan in the span of thirty seconds.
Who is this?! Bai Changkong thought. He is definitely not someone from this city! The only Nascent Soul experts that normally come to Azure Cloud City are the Envoys of the Cultivation Council, and occasionally some high-ranking sect visitors from the majestic Sky Jade City! But him... he is definitely not from either!
The Patriarch analyzed the man’s demeanor and attire. He isn’t an Envoy. I have met all three of the Envoys assigned to the Zhao Province. And he certainly isn’t from Sky Jade City! His clothing doesn’t bear the crest of the Heavenly Sword Sect, the profound lotus of the Mystic Water Pavilion, or any of the prominent sects in that city. So who is he?! Where did a monster like this emerge from?! And more importantly, why would a Nascent Soul expert do this to my Bai Clan?! What have we possibly done to draw his wrath?!
Unbothered by the panic of the Patriarch resting on his boot, Lin Yuan’s gaze drifted to a side table situated right next to the throne. Resting upon it was cup filled with freshly brewed tea that Bai Changkong had been drinking prior to the emergency meeting.
Finding his throat slightly parched from his rapid flight across the city, Lin Yuan decided to indulge himself.
To reach the cup without completely crushing the furniture and the Bai Clan elders beneath him, Lin Yuan momentarily withdrew a significant portion of his crushing Nascent Soul aura. He pulled the spiritual pressure back into his body, freeing his arm to casually pick up the teacup.
The sudden lifting of the aura was like pulling a drowning man out of the deep ocean.
All across the main hall, the elders of the Bai Clan violently gasped for air, their lungs expanding as they coughed up blood and desperately tried to stabilize their cultivation.
Among them was Elder Bai Mo.
Clutching his chest, Bai Mo dragged himself up onto his hands and knees. He took a massive, rattling breath and looked up toward the throne, intending to beg the senior expert for mercy. But as his eyes locked onto the face of the young man casually taking a sip from the Patriarch’s teacup, Bai Mo completely froze.
The elder’s pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks. The gears in his mind violently ground to a halt as a memory violently resurfaced. He remembered the damp wood of the outer-city slums. He remembered tossing a crippled girl onto the dirt. And he remembered the face of the man who had stood in the doorway to receive her.
The person sitting on the throne and the impoverished outer-city rat were the exact same person.
The sheer absurdity of this realization completely shattered Elder Bai Mo’s sanity. His shock and ingrained, arrogant contempt entirely overrode his basic survival instincts. He refused to believe it. He refused to accept that a slum-dwelling peasant had somehow orchestrated the subjugation of the Bai Clan.
Driven by suicidal madness, Elder Bai Mo immediately stood up. With a furious roar, he summoned his flying sword from his storage ring. Channeling every last drop of his Foundation Establishment qi, he threw the blade directly at Lin Yuan with all his might.
SWISH!
The blade cut through the air with lethal intent, aimed perfectly at the center of Lin Yuan’s forehead.
Lin Yuan didn’t even blink. He didn’t raise his hand. He didn’t even stop sipping his tea.
A mere fraction of his domain automatically asserted itself. The flying sword, traveling at terrifying speeds, violently slammed into an invisible wall of dense Qi. It stopped mid-halt in the air, the razor-sharp tip violently vibrating just a few inches from Lin Yuan’s face, entirely stripped of its momentum.
Ignoring the suspended blade hovering before his eyes, Lin Yuan slowly lowered the teacup, his purple eyes shifting to lock onto the trembling form of Elder Bai Mo.
Elder Bai Mo pointed a shaking finger at the throne, his voice a mixture of disbelief, horror, and sheer arrogance.
"You..." Elder Bai Mo shrieked, his voice echoing through the silence of the hall. "You are that outer city rat I gave Bai Qingyue to! How dare you show your face in here!"