Chapter 20 : Despair Beneath the Night

Chapter 20: Despair Beneath the Night

Rumble—

Thunder roared beneath the stormy night, as if the gods themselves were shouting in fury, plunging the Ancient Great Mountain Range into a suffocating oppression.

Within the forest, Yang Jueding and Li Qingqiu trudged forward against the torrential rain. When they reached a stretch of even ground, Yang Jueding turned to glance at Li Qingqiu.

“With rain this heavy, our bodies will surely suffer. The Seven Peaks Alliance lies far ahead—without several days, we won’t reach it. Why don’t we rest for the night? Tomorrow, we can borrow a couple of horses in town before setting off again.”

Yang Jueding thought Li Qingqiu had lost his mind. He hoped that walking in the rain for a while would cool his head.

Li Qingqiu replied, “It’s fine. There’s no need to rush. As long as we catch up to that group of Seven Peaks Alliance members who fled, that will be enough. They’re dragging along many wounded—shouldn’t have gone far.”

“So that’s how it is. For a moment I thought you were planning to march straight into the Seven Peaks Alliance.”

Yang Jueding sighed in relief.

He almost said, I thought you’d gone mad.

If they were truly heading to the Seven Peaks Alliance, that would be suicide.

But to hunt down a band of injured martial artists? That was as easy as crushing an ant.

“In that case, let’s hurry up!”

Yang Jueding’s spirits lifted as he quickened his pace.

Li Qingqiu didn’t stop him—this was just what he wanted.

In the dim forest, Yang Jueding employed his lightness skill, while Li Qingqiu cast the Wind Sprint Technique.

The two of them darted like phantoms; at a glance, it seemed their feet barely touched the ground.

The night deepened.

The merciless downpour began to subside, as though the heavens had nearly vented their wrath.

On the mountain path between the peaks, hundreds of sturdy horses moved slowly forward.

Many carried wounded martial artists on their backs, while over a hundred more walked beside them, leading the animals.

At the forefront strode Yue Zhenchuan.

Rainwater streamed down his face, his expression cold—but his heart trembled with lingering fear.

A wound still marked his neck, barely missing his throat.

The image of Jiang Zhaoxia’s crazed, demonic figure refused to fade from his mind, as did that girl who had nearly slain him with a single sword.

The Clear Sky Sect—who would have thought it hid such terrifying youths? And with Li Sifeng among them, Yue Zhenchuan simply couldn’t comprehend it.

Not even among the hegemonic sects he’d visited had he seen such monstrous talents.

This enmity was now irreconcilable.

The Seven Peaks Alliance would never let it go. He had to bring word back and mobilize the full power of the Alliance to eradicate the Clear Sky Sect.

Otherwise, in ten years—no, perhaps in only five—the Seven Peaks Alliance would face annihilation.

The more Yue Zhenchuan thought, the more afraid he became. He even began to suspect that demons or spirits hid within the Clear Sky Sect.

Rumors of Lin Xunfeng’s “seeking immortality” had long spread across the martial world.

Many heroes had mocked him as insane—including Yue Zhenchuan himself. But now he wondered… had Lin Xunfeng seen something back then that led him onto that path?

The rain had ceased, but Yue Zhenchuan’s heart still could not find calm.

“Brave men ahead—please, stay your steps!”

A deep, sonorous voice called out from behind.

Startled, the Seven Peaks Alliance members turned at once, fearing that the pursuers from Clear Sky Sect had arrived.

Yue Zhenchuan, too, shivered in alarm.

When he turned, he saw two figures in rain cloaks approaching swiftly.

Under the dim night, he could barely make out their human silhouettes.

Though there were only two of them, the Seven Peaks Alliance members—having survived the bloody battle earlier that day—dared not let down their guard.

They drew their weapons, ready for anything.

They were carrying the injured and were wounded themselves. Escape was impossible. If they tried to run, they’d only be cut down one by one.

“I am Yang Jueding. Have any of you heard my name?”

The voice rang out again.

After hearing his name, the Seven Peaks Alliance members exchanged looks and collectively relaxed.

The Dragon-Subduing Hero, Yang Jueding—in Guzhou’s martial world, who didn’t know the name?

Yue Zhenchuan also exhaled in relief. He knew Yang Jueding. When Yang Jueding had once visited the Seven Peaks Alliance, Yue Zhenchuan had witnessed his skills firsthand.

Perhaps not stronger than his own, but Yang Jueding’s palm strikes certainly merited his place among the top ten of the Heaven Ranking.

“So it’s Brother Yang. Come over and speak!”

Yue Zhenchuan called out, even beckoning for the two to come closer.

With Yang Jueding traveling alongside them, their safety would surely increase.

Yang Jueding seemed to recognize him as well and quickened his pace. The Seven Peaks Alliance members stepped aside to clear the way.

“Why do you look so battered? Been fighting with the Azure Sect?”

Yang Jueding lifted his rain hat and asked with a teasing smile.

Yue Zhenchuan didn’t notice the man behind him and replied helplessly, “We went out on an errand… but things went poorly.”

Yang Jueding came before him, scanning the wounds on his body, clicking his tongue. “A real expert, huh? Judging by the sword wounds, the attacker was fast—and meant to kill you with every strike.”

Yue Zhenchuan’s face turned stiff. He grunted, “Indeed an expert. I was careless today…”

“You’re all from the Seven Peaks Alliance?”

Li Qingqiu stepped out from behind Yang Jueding and looked directly at Yue Zhenchuan as he asked.

Unable to see the man’s face clearly, Yue Zhenchuan assumed he was Yang Jueding’s junior and answered casually, “Yes, we of the Seven Peaks Alliance are old acquaintances of the Dragon-Subduing Hero beside you—”

He never finished his sentence.

A flash of sword light burst forth—Yang Jueding couldn’t dodge. Blood splattered across his face. His eyes widened in shock.

Yue Zhenchuan also stared wide-eyed, his hands instinctively clutching at his throat as blood gushed through his fingers, unstoppable.

“You…”

He looked at Li Qingqiu in disbelief, his body trembling as he stumbled backward and fell.

The Seven Peaks Alliance members nearby were horrified.

Before they could even react, Li Qingqiu turned, swung his sword, and another throat was slit.

Not far away, Yue Zhenchuan’s young disciple had been resting on a rock, just about to examine his leg wound. When he saw his master collapsing, he froze.

He was just about to call out when the cloaked figure beside Yang Jueding turned and hurled his sword.

Pfft—

The blade pierced straight through the young man’s forehead, dragging him several yards before stopping. When his body came to rest, his life was completely gone—eyes wide open in death.

Li Qingqiu strode forward, yanked his sword free, and rushed toward the rest of the Seven Peaks Alliance disciples like a phantom.

Those men finally reacted, turning to face him.

After breaking through to the third layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, Li Qingqiu had been reborn—his senses sharper, his body quicker, his reflexes almost inhuman.

Each time he passed a man, another life was cut down.

No wasted movements—only the constant, chilling sound of steel slicing through flesh.

Yang Jueding, shaken from his stupor, turned to look—and froze at the sight of corpses littering the ground.

So fast.

So ruthless.

He had long suspected Li Qingqiu was powerful—but never this powerful.

Not even Jiang Zhaoxia could compare.

“Kill him!”

An older Seven Peaks Alliance member bared his teeth and charged forward, blade raised.

Others followed suit.

The chaos spooked the horses—whinnies echoed as the herd began to panic. Some bolted, throwing wounded riders to the ground, trampling them under hoof.

In an instant, the mountainside was plunged into chaos.

All the Seven Peaks Alliance men were injured.

Even at their peak, they would have stood no chance.

Now, this wasn’t a battle—it was a massacre.

Yang Jueding’s spine went cold as he watched Li Qingqiu’s killing spree.

Such murderous aura!

Though Yang Jueding was a man of the martial world, he valued fame and mastery over slaughter.

That was what made him a “hero.” But now, the Li Qingqiu before him filled him with unease.

He tried to reason with himself—it was the Seven Peaks Alliance who had started this, and they weren’t righteous to begin with.

He’d once visited the Seven Peaks Alliance under the pretense of exchanging skills, but in truth, it had been to put them in their place.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t succeeded and had to pretend he’d only come to befriend them.

Yet, no matter how he rationalized it, watching Li Qingqiu tear through them like a tiger among sheep, he couldn’t help but wonder—if he had to face an enraged Li Qingqiu, how many moves could he withstand?

When over half the Seven Peaks Alliance disciples lay dead, the survivors finally broke and fled. But Li Qingqiu didn’t intend to let them go. He pursued, cutting them down one by one.

Already wounded and exhausted from travel, they couldn’t run far.

One after another, they fell beneath his blade.

After a single incense stick’s time—

Li Qingqiu returned, sword in hand, stopping before Yang Jueding.

Lifting his head, his blood-streaked face emerged from beneath his rain hat.

“There’s one left. He won’t get far. I’ll kill him and then head to the Seven Peaks Alliance. You stay here. With no survivors to deliver news, the Alliance won’t regroup. Tomorrow, have the disciples collect the corpses on the mountain—don’t let disease breed.”

Li Qingqiu spoke calmly. Then he turned and started walking in the direction the last disciple had fled.

After two steps, he seemed to recall something.

Turning back to Yang Jueding, he added, “Also, go through their bodies. Take anything of value back to the mountain. And tonight’s events—you are not to mention them to anyone. Not even to my junior brothers or sisters. Just say I was patrolling the mountain.”

With that, Li Qingqiu turned and disappeared into the night.

The mountains were vast and silent.

Yang Jueding stared at Li Qingqiu’s retreating back, his lips moving wordlessly.

After witnessing Li Qingqiu’s terrifying strength, he felt certain—even if Li Qingqiu failed in his assault on the Seven Peaks Alliance, he would at least return alive.

He stood there for a long time, watching until Li Qingqiu vanished beyond the ridge.

Only then did he come to his senses.

Looking around at the field of corpses, the corner of his mouth twitched.

Suddenly, he realized—the task Li Qingqiu had left him might not be any easier than the slaughter itself.

Elsewhere, three miles away—

The final Seven Peaks Alliance disciple stumbled up a hillside, fleeing in terror.

Overcome with panic, he tripped on a rock and tumbled down the slope, rolling end over end until he finally stopped, his body wracked with pain, bones feeling as if they’d shattered.

He gasped for breath, grimacing as he tried to push himself up—only for his eyes to widen in horror.

Atop the rise before him stood Li Qingqiu, still cloaked in his rain mantle, sword in hand, looking down upon him.

Just then, the clouds parted.

The moon shone high above, casting its light over Li Qingqiu’s head.