Huo Jingjing’s brows shot up in anger, about to speak, but Chen Ping raised a hand to stop her.
Chen Ping stepped forward, his gaze like he was looking at dust on the ground, “Move.”
“Move?”
The masked man laughed as if he’d heard the funniest joke, “Kid, do you know who I am? I’m Hei Wuchang, the young master of the Black Fiend Sect! Get on your knees, kowtow three times, and leave those two beauties beside you, and maybe I’ll let you keep your corpse intact!”
His Black Fiend Sect disciples burst into laughter, their words dripping with filth.
Yun Wuya’s face paled with fear, tugging at Chen Ping’s sleeve, “Mr. Chen, maybe we should take a detour, the Black Fiend Sect…”
“Detour?” Chen Ping cut him off, a cold smirk curling his lips, “I never step aside for anyone.”
Before his words faded, without even drawing his sword, he flicked his finger.
“Zheng—”
A clear sword hum seemed to descend from the heavens, an invisible sword intent transforming into a blazing streak, impossibly fast!
The sneer on Hei Wuchang’s face hadn’t faded when he felt a chill at his neck, and then the world began to spin.
He looked down, seeing his body still frozen in a laughing pose, a hair-thin line of blood at his neck.
“You…”
His head rolled to the ground, eyes wide with disbelief and terror, unblinking even in death.
The scene fell deathly silent.
The Black Fiend Sect disciples watched their young master’s head and body part in an instant, unable to even see how the opponent struck. A chill shot from their soles to the tops of their heads.
A Seventh Grade Loose Immortal, annihilated with a flick of a finger?
What kind of terrifying strength was this?
Chen Ping didn’t even glance at the corpse, hands behind his back, saying to Yun Wuya, “Lead the way.”
Yun Wuya trembled, practically stumbling forward in a panic, terrified of following Hei Wuchang’s fate.
Hu Mazi whistled, grinning at the remaining Black Fiend Sect disciples, “So, anyone else want to block our path?”
The disciples didn’t dare linger, screaming as they scattered like frightened animals, not even sparing a thought for their young master’s body.
Huo Jingjing and Mo Qingyun gazed at Chen Ping with worshipful eyes, finding his finger-flick kill more dashing and domineering than a god in the heavens.
“Chen Ping, your flair for showing off is getting more godlike by the day!” Hu Mazi gave a thumbs-up.
Chen Ping smiled faintly, “Still needs work.”
The group pressed on, the air growing thicker with the scent of blood, but no other reckless force dared to block their way.
Three days later, they reached the territory of the Barbaric Ancient Clan.
This place was starkly different from the outside world. The sky glowed an eerie dark red, and the ground was dotted with massive black stone tablets carved with ferocious totems, the air thick with a wild, violent aura.
In the distance, a massive city built against a mountain came into view. Its walls, made of black stone, bore the scars of claws and weapons, exuding the ferocity of a barbaric beast.
Above the city gate hung a giant beast-bone plaque, inscribed with three ancient blood-red characters, “Barbaric City”.
Yet, at this moment, Barbaric City seemed unusual.
The guards at the gate looked grim, their beast-hide armour stained with fresh blood, their gazes towards the outside filled with vigilance and unease.
Their Barbarian King had been missing for days without a trace, and the Grand Elder had ordered the city on high alert!
As Yun Wuya approached the gate, several burly barbarian warriors wielding giant axes blocked his path.
The lead warrior, towering with blue war paint on his face, barked, “Qingyun Sect? What business do you have with the Barbaric Ancient Clan?”
Before Yun Wuya could respond, a rapid bell toll sounded from within the city. Moments later, a group of elders in beast-hide robes emerged swiftly, surrounded by a throng of barbarian warriors.
