Chapter 411 - 408: Surrounding and Killing Yin Wugou
The figure fleeing frantically ahead was clad in a black robe with dark silver patterns, now soaked in blood. His left arm hung limply at his side, a clear sign of a grave injury.
It was Yin Huang.
Chasing him was a middle-aged man in the Steward’s Robe of the Qingxuan Sect. He wielded a long saber, its blade flashing viciously. Every slash forced Yin Huang into a desperate struggle for his life.
"Yin Huang!"
Yin Wugou roared, the terrifying aura of his Second Grade Cultivation erupting from him.
His body transformed into a streak of black light, shooting straight for the Qingxuan Sect Steward.
However—
Just as he was about to reach him.
The Qingxuan Sect Steward suddenly stopped.
He glanced up at Yin Wugou, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, subtle smirk.
The next instant, the saber in his hand abruptly accelerated.
The blade’s light flashed like a bolt of silk, carving a grim arc through the night.
"No—!"
Yin Wugou shrieked, pushing his speed to its absolute limit.
But it was too late.
The saber’s light streaked across Yin Huang’s neck.
A spray of blood erupted.
Yin Huang’s forward momentum came to a sudden halt. His head flew high into the air as his headless body, carried by inertia, stumbled forward two more steps before crashing to the ground.
"Yin Huang!"
Yin Wugou lunged forward, just in time to catch the falling head.
The young face was a frozen mask of terror and despair, his eyes wide open, unable to find peace even in death.
Yin Wugou trembled all over, his hands clutching the head shaking violently.
He looked up at the Qingxuan Sect Steward, who had already retreated several dozen feet away. His sharp eyes now held nothing but frenzied killing intent.
"You—!"
His voice was hoarse and low, like that of a wounded beast.
"You’re courting death!"
He set down Yin Huang’s head, his body erupting forward as he charged the Steward.
He threw a palm strike.
This strike held his full power, with nothing held back.
The jet-black Palm Seal was dozens of feet wide, so condensed it looked solid. It descended with a terrifying, mountain-toppling might, crashing down.
The Steward’s expression shifted slightly, but he didn’t panic.
He rapidly retreated, and at the same time—
SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!
Three figures shot out from different directions almost simultaneously.
One of them met the jet-black Palm Seal, striking out with a palm of their own.
BOOM!
Amidst the muffled collision, the jet-black Palm Seal and a cyan Palm Seal annihilated each other.
A shockwave spread out in all directions, snapping and felling the surrounding trees.
Yin Wugou’s charge was brought to a dead stop. He staggered back several steps and looked up.
Three figures had now surrounded him.
Directly in front of him, a man stood with his hands behind his back. With a gaunt face and a tranquil gaze, it was none other than Zhou Jin.
To his left and right stood an elderly man, each dressed in the robes of a Qingxuan Sect Elder.
One was thin with a stern face, radiating a cold, sinister aura. He held a longsword.
The other was burly, with thick eyebrows and fierce eyes. His fists were clenched, a faint golden light swirling around his knuckles.
All three of them were clearly Elder Level, Upper Three Grades Martial Artists.
Yin Wugou’s expression instantly turned grim.
His gaze swept across the three men, finally landing on Zhou Jin’s face.
"Zhou Jin!"
His voice was low, laced with irrepressible rage and shock.
"You dare to ambush me? Aren’t you afraid of starting a war between our two sects?"
"Yin Wugou."
Zhou Jin stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent.
He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but it reached everyone’s ears with perfect clarity.
"As an Elder of the Netherworld Pavilion, a cultivator with Second Grade Cultivation, you ignored the tacit agreement between our sects and personally tried to assassinate one of the Qingxuan Sect’s True Disciples, Fang Han."
"Today, this matter will be settled."
Yin Wugou’s pupils constricted.
By now, how could he not understand? Yin Huang’s plea for help had been bait.
The Qingxuan Sect’s real target was him.
"Good. Very good!"
Yin Wugou laughed in a fit of rage. The sound was hoarse and low, tinged with a hint of madness.
"You’ve truly gone to great lengths to kill me!"
"When you tried to kill a True Inheritor of the Qingxuan Sect, you should have expected this day would come."
Zhou Jin’s voice remained flat, betraying no emotion.
Yin Wugou said nothing more.
He knew there was no peaceful way out of this today.
The three men surrounding him were all Elder Level, and Zhou Jin’s strength was comparable to his own.
His odds of survival were grim.
But he had no other choice.
"If you want to kill me, then come!"
Yin Wugou roared, his aura erupting once more.
The terrifying pressure of his Second Grade Cultivation pressed down on the surroundings like a physical mountain.
He took the initiative, lunging straight for Zhou Jin.
He raised his right palm, jet-black Inner Qi gathering frantically before he unleashed the strike.
This strike held his full power, with nothing held back.
As the Palm Seal passed, the air shrieked and tore, and a deep trench was gouged into the ground.
Zhou Jin’s eyes narrowed. Instead of retreating, he advanced.
He met the attack with a palm strike of his own.
BOOM!
As the two palms met, an earth-shattering explosion erupted.
A shockwave like a tsunami radiated outwards, snapping trees and sending shards of rock flying everywhere it passed.
Yin Wugou was knocked back several steps. Before he could regain his footing, attacks came from his left and right.
The thin Elder on his left thrust his longsword, which transformed into a sharp glint of cold light aimed straight for Yin Wugou’s ribs.
The burly Elder on his right punched with both fists, sending two golden Fist Seals with Mountain-Splitting Stone-Shattering Momentum crashing toward Yin Wugou’s back.
Yin Wugou’s expression changed drastically.
He twisted his body with all his might to dodge the fatal sword strike, simultaneously throwing a backhanded palm strike to meet the two golden Fist Seals.
BANG!
The Palm Seal and Fist Seals collided. Having struck in haste, Yin Wugou felt an immense force surge through him, his entire arm going instantly numb.
He staggered backward, and before he could steady himself, Zhou Jin’s attack arrived.
This palm strike was faster and more ruthless than the last.
Unable to dodge, Yin Wugou could only meet it head-on in haste.
BAM!
Their palms met. Yin Wugou let out a muffled grunt as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
He was sent flying backward, smashing heavily into an ancient tree so thick it would take several people to encircle.
CRACK!
The ancient tree snapped on impact, sending splinters flying.
Yin Wugou collapsed to the ground, spitting mouthfuls of blood.
He struggled to get up, only to see the three figures closing in on him again.
Zhou Jin stood with his hands clasped behind him, his gaze falling upon him, as calm as still water.
The other two Elders flanked him, cutting off all his escape routes.
Yin Wugou’s heart sank to the depths of despair.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his churning qi and blood, and slowly got to his feet.
His gaze swept across the three of them, his sharp eyes filled with grim resolve.
"If you want to kill me, then we’ll die together!"
He roared, his aura surging once again.
For this strike, he used a Secret Technique.
By burning his blood Essence, his Cultivation skyrocketed for a short time, buying him one last desperate chance.
His body transformed into a streak of black light, shooting straight for the thin Elder.
His speed was far greater than before.
The Elder’s expression changed slightly. He brandished his longsword in a flurry, weaving a net of Sword Qi.
But Yin Wugou paid it no mind, forcing his way straight through the net of Sword Qi.
SHHNK! SHHNK! SHHNK!
The Sword Qi left bloody gashes all over his body, but he didn’t slow down at all.
He thrust out a palm.
The Elder, unable to dodge, could only block with his sword held horizontally.
CLANG!
The longsword snapped on impact. The Palm Seal, its Momentum unchecked, slammed viciously into his chest.
"Pfft!"
The Elder coughed up blood and was sent flying.
Having landed a successful blow, Yin Wugou didn’t pause for a moment, turning to break through in that direction.
However—
Zhou Jin’s figure had already appeared before him like a ghost.
"Trying to leave?"
Zhou Jin spoke calmly as he sent a palm striking out.
The strike seemed slow, but it was as fast as lightning.
It was too late for Yin Wugou to change his move; he could only meet it head-on.
BAM!
Their palms met. Yin Wugou felt an irresistible, immense force wash over him, and his entire arm was instantly wracked with excruciating pain.
He looked down to see his right arm twisted at a bizarre angle—the bone was broken.
The pain was agonizing, but he gritted his teeth and struck out again with his left palm.
Zhou Jin sidestepped the blow and landed a backhanded palm strike on his chest.
"Pfft—!"
Yin Wugou coughed up a mouthful of blood and was sent flying backward.
This time, he didn’t get back up.
He lay in a pool of his own blood, trembling and gasping for air.
Zhou Jin walked up to him and looked down.
His eyes were still as calm as still water.
"Yin Wugou."
He began to speak slowly.
"You tried to assassinate a True Inheritor of my Qingxuan Sect. Today, you face your execution. It is a fitting end."
Yin Wugou lifted his head and looked at Zhou Jin. A strange smile suddenly appeared on his blood-streaked face.
The smile held rage, resentment, and a certain indescribable madness.
"Zhou Jin..."
He rasped, his voice broken and intermittent.
"My Netherworld Pavilion... will never let this go..."
Before he could finish, his voice cut off abruptly.
The light in his sharp eyes quickly faded.
Zhou Jin glanced down at the now-cold corpse before slowly looking away.
The night wind blew, carrying the thick stench of blood.
In the sparse woodland, two corpses lay not far from each other, still and silent in pools of blood.
One was Yin Huang.
The other was Yin Wugou.
The uncle and nephew, both of whom held a grudge against Fang Han, had died on the same night, in the same place.