Chapter Forty-Three: Di Yuan

“Stronger still?”

Li Ju glanced at Yuan Hao in mild surprise, then a cruel smile crept across his lips.

“Then I’ll grant your wish!”

Buzz!

The bat emblem on Li Ju’s chest suddenly flared with light. In the blink of an eye, black markings, spreading from the bat design, covered his entire body. An overwhelmingly powerful aura began to rise from him.

“What a pity. I had hoped not to use this…”

Hundred Venom Vajra Physique: Ghost Bat Form!

“The warm-up is over. Now, the real fight begins.”

“Try not to die too quickly.”

Li Ju’s figure had already vanished; only his voice lingered, echoing in the air.

“How can this be…”

Yuan Hao’s pupils contracted sharply. As if sensing something, he prepared to swing his sword to the left—

But he was too late.

Bang!

A fist landed heavily on Yuan Hao’s body, sending waves of force rippling outward from the point of impact.

Thud!

Yuan Hao’s body was hurled into the air!

Swish!

He was still airborne, unable to adjust his posture before landing, when a looming black shadow materialized behind him. Another punch crashed into him, and Yuan Hao plummeted to the ground at tremendous speed.

Boom!

On impact, Yuan Hao’s body carved a deep pit into the earth. Dust billowed, shrouding the scene from the eyes of onlookers.

“It seems it’s over,” Bai Jiu and Liu Wu exchanged glances, each calculating how much fame and fortune they might gain after dealing with the Venom Vajra.

Atop a tall building, Chai Sen’s fingernails dug deeply into his palms.

Below, against the wall, Chai Sen’s disciple stared anxiously into the swirling dust.

Just then, as though responding to the silent wishes of the crowd, a faint breeze swept the dust away, revealing the scene beneath.

“This is impossible!”

Bai Jiu, Liu Wu, and Chai Sen’s disciple all stared in disbelief, their eyes bulging in shock.

As the dust cleared, Li Ju stood with one hand gripping Yuan Hao’s neck, hoisting him aloft. Yuan Hao’s body was covered in blood, his limbs hung limp, and his sword now lay quietly at Li Ju’s feet.

“It seems my descent into the demonic path has made my martial arts far superior to your so-called righteous way,” Li Ju said softly to Yuan Hao.

“The demonic path… will always be the demonic path. You may do as you please for a moment, but it will not last…” Yuan Hao’s voice was weak, yet his bloodshot eyes fixed unyieldingly on Li Ju.

“You can save those words for the underworld—”

A cruel smile flickered across Li Ju’s face. He tightened his grip, ready to snap Yuan Hao’s neck.

“Spare him!”

A loud shout rang out from the side.

But Li Ju paid it no heed. With a single squeeze, he crushed Yuan Hao’s throat. Blood and fragments spilled down his arm.

Swish!

A longsword shot straight at his back.

Without so much as looking, Li Ju flung his palm backward.

Bang!

The sword was knocked aside by the force of his strike.

“Flying Sword Technique?”

Li Ju glanced at the red mark on the back of his hand and then looked at the newcomer.

It was a middle-aged man, gaunt and disheveled, with a wild beard and tattered clothes. On his back, he carried a large sword case. His eyes blazed with such fury one could almost see flames erupting from them.

“Where did you learn the Flying Sword Technique?” Li Ju asked instead, ignoring the man’s seething glare.

The Flying Sword Technique was the highest art of the Flying Sword Sect, famed for its might and prestige. The very name of the sect came from this technique. Its reputation in the martial world was on par with the eight secret arts of the Demonic Cult. The Flying Sword Sect had once become the foremost clan in Lingnan by relying on its power.

Yet, precisely because of its great power, the sect had jealously guarded its inheritance. Each generation, only the sect leader, the heir apparent, and a select few who had rendered great service were permitted to practice it.

Li Ju and Wang Lu, though the last surviving disciples of the Flying Sword Sect after its destruction, had held low rank within the sect and never learned the Flying Sword Technique.

Still, though they had never tasted the meat, they had seen the pig run. Li Ju and Wang Lu had grown up within the sect and were highly familiar with the technique.

Thus, the moment Li Ju exchanged blows with the newcomer, he instantly recognized the martial art as none other than the Flying Sword Technique.

“Our sect’s Flying Sword Technique was tightly guarded. Before the Demonic Cult’s great assault, only three people in the entire sect, including the chief, had mastered it. Of those three, the chief and another fell in battle against the Demonic Cult. Only one survived by hiding outside…”

“You are the chief’s direct disciple, the eldest brother of the sect—Di Yuan!”

At last, Li Ju recalled who the man before him was.

“You wretch! You have not only colluded with the Demonic Cult, but also cruelly murdered the masters of the Seven-Three Sect. Such disloyalty and betrayal! You are unworthy to be called a disciple of the Flying Sword Sect!” Di Yuan’s voice rang out, heavy with grief and indignation.

“Wretch? Disloyal? Hah!”

Li Ju snorted derisively.

“When the Flying Sword Sect was under attack by the Demonic Cult, where were you, the highly regarded eldest brother of the sect? While I suffered in the cult’s dungeon, and Senior Brother Wang Lu risked everything to rescue me, where were you—the one groomed by the chief himself, destined to succeed him?”

“When I was saving righteous masters from the dungeon, fighting the Four Evils of the Demonic Cult, where were you, the only legitimate inheritor of the Flying Sword Technique?”

Li Ju’s tone dripped with scorn.

“When the sect was annihilated and you were absent, you could still claim you were away on business. But when Senior Brother Wang Lu continued to act in the name of the Flying Sword Sect, resisting the Demonic Cult’s pursuit and struggling alone to revive our sect, I never expected you, the so-called eldest brother, to not only do nothing to restore our name, but go so far as to consort with the Seven-Three Sect.”

“You—!”

Di Yuan’s face turned ashen with rage. For a moment, he was speechless. If word of Li Ju’s accusations spread in the martial world, his reputation would be utterly destroyed. Worse, he would be branded a traitor to his sect and an ingrate—marks that no martial artist could bear, for they would mean exile from the community forever.