Book 2 Chapter 57: Bad News - Martial God

Chapter 57: Bad News In the small town, there was only one inn that could claim to be the very best—elegant and pristine, reserved for the wealthy and powerful. Moreover, it had only one courtyard, designed for affluent families. When two such wealthy families met unexpectedly, neither willing to back down, a dispute was inevitable. At this moment, by the roadside in front of the inn, two individuals were engaged in a heated confrontation, both unarmed. One was Zhong Pu Yuan, a retainer of the Yuan Family. His cultivation had reached the eighth level. With such prowess, he would be well-received by any noble family. Nonetheless, due to a great favor received from the Yuan Mansion when he was young, he chose to serve the Yuan Family faithfully. This made him the most skilled among those on the escort team this time. The other was a middle-aged man clad in tight-fitting clothes, astonishingly lean and tall, with narrow shoulders, long arms, and legs. His hands extended beyond his sleeves, appearing almost like an extra length. Amazingly, his internal strength had also reached the eighth level. His moves were incredibly fierce, his long arms resembling spider legs. Each swing through the air emitted a bizarre whistling sound, as though his arms were his weapons. Zhong Pu Yuan was quite wary of the man’s arms, yet his own movements were light and unforced, effortlessly deflecting his opponent's arms at critical moments. Though engaged in a fight, both displayed considerable restraint, avoiding any lethal intent. They both recognized in each other a worthy adversary. In such a situation, no fool would recklessly resort to murder. Not every cultivator can react in a flash on the road, drawing a blade the instant a disagreement arises. Perhaps those elusive bandits could, or a congenital powerhouse like He Yi Ming might, but certainly not individuals like them, who had roots and reputations and lacked the power to completely disregard the law. Nearby, Yuan Li Xuan and another person exchanged uncomfortable glances. Neither seemed willing to spark a genuine conflict, yet the situation had already escalated to a point where retreat was difficult. Yuan Li Xuan's internal strength only reached the fourth level, but there were at least five seventh-level experts standing behind him. From the inn emerged more men, weapons in hand and expressions unfriendly, casting considerable pressure on their opponents. The atmosphere in the scene grew increasingly tense. As more people gathered behind Yuan Li Xuan, the opposing group seemed uneasy, especially the middle-aged man fighting Zhong Pu Yuan. His strikes became more aggressive. Indeed, seeing their opponents swell in numbers, even the most courageous would instinctively seek to eliminate the immediate threat first, handling others afterward. Moreover, from his previous observations, he had concluded that among these people, only Zhong Pu Yuan was an eighth-level expert. If he could be dealt with, the rest would be manageable. At the very least, if they couldn't defeat them, they could flee more easily. Sometimes, a single expert can exert a restraining force far beyond that of a large group of lower-tier cultivators. As the middle-aged man became serious, Zhong Pu Yuan suddenly felt immense pressure. The man's methods were unmistakably rare metal-based techniques, with at least half of his power concentrated in those disproportionately long arms. With each sweep, they resembled broad blades, and the edges glimmered with a metallic hue—a characteristic of metal-based techniques honed to a certain level of mastery. Under his relentless drive, his palms more closely resembled metal, their deadly intent growing more potent. The fearsome sound of the air being cleaved was enough to unnerve one's soul. Yuan Li Xuan and the others watched with worry etched across their faces, inching closer to the fight unwittingly. Seeing the opponent's formidability, no one dared let their guard down. They planned to jointly attack if the situation turned unfavorable. The middle-aged man, however skillful, was only an eighth-level practitioner. With over a hundred men attacking him, his fate would be to flee. Just then, a calm voice rose from behind: "All of you, step back and just watch." The urgency on Yuan Li Xuan's face vanished without a trace as everyone sighed in relief, retreating several paces from the confrontation. For they all recognized He Yi Ming’s voice. Despite being only sixteen, He Yi Ming was a legendary congenital powerhouse. To these guests and retainers of the Yuan Family, his exploits had become tales they heard until they were ingrained. In their minds, He Yi Ming had already achieved mythic status. With him spectating, why should they worry? While the Yuan personnel withdrew, the man fighting Zhong Pu Yuan and others observing were gripped by a sudden unease. Earlier, as many surrounded him, they felt confident that escape was possible, even if they couldn't win. However, with a single spoken phrase from the store, everyone obediently ceased their advance. What’s more, there wasn't a hint of resentment or frustration on their faces—instead, there was a glimmer of hope and excitement. These seasoned men quickly discerned the weight carried by the one who spoke. Such a figure could only be someone extraordinary, commanding the hundred muscular combatants into acquiescence. Realizing this, they were startled — provoking this hidden figure might not yield any benefit today. Foremost among them regretted his impulsive bid for the courtyard. Had he known these adversaries were so formidable, he would have agreed to another room or simply left. Zhong Pu Yuan, hearing He Yi Ming, felt emboldened. With a gentle call, he switched to using a softer, more graceful palm technique. His chosen method was a water-based technique—not top-tier, but respectable. His hands traced mysterious circles within a confined space. With each circle, a whirlpool emerged, every vortex acting like a spring, deflecting the middle-aged man's long arms. While never confronting the opponent with raw force, onlookers may have felt Zhong held a slight disadvantage, but his style resembled stubborn taffy; once stuck, it was challenging to peel away unnoticed. As their duel continued, a voice called out from the opposite side: "Li Fu Zhou, stop wasting time, end this." The middle-aged man's brow furrowed, yet he nodded in acknowledgment. Zhong Pu Yuan felt a flicker of indignation. Though they were both eighth-level practitioners, the notion that the opponent could easily manage him seemed presumptuous. However, just as this thought crossed his mind, the middle-aged man, Li Fu Zhou, abruptly withdrew, taking several steps back. With his earlier offensive momentum and upper hand, retreating was simple, no entanglement necessary. Taken aback, Zhong Pu Yuan hesitated, uncertain if he should chase and attack. In that split moment of indecision, Li Fu Zhou raised his arms, bringing his unusually long arms together, hands extended. His palms too were considerably larger than average, and now, his ten fingers intertwined to form a peculiar hand seal. The seal seemed to involve fingers interlocked with both thumbs peculiarly protruding through the spaces, showing two white nail-tips. For a reason unbeknownst to Zhong Pu Yuan, upon witnessing this hand gesture, his complexion subtly changed, as he sensed within the seal a power beyond comprehension, an ominously dangerous force akin to a serpent's gaze. In a dim corner inside the inn, He Yi Ming suddenly noted aloud, "I know who these people are." Startled, He Quan Xin and his son He Yi Tian shared a thought—could these be acquaintances from Yi Ming’s previous travels? He Yi Ming cast a glance over them, smiling, “Uncle, brother, look at their attire.” Perplexed, He Quan Xin and He Yi Tian scrutinized the opponents' clothing, which seemed somewhat familiar but evoked no immediate recollection. He Yi Ming softly prompted, “Brother, on your wedding day.” Finally, He Yi Tian's eyes lit up. "I recall now; they're people from the Lin Family. These garments are specific to their Lin Family’s servants, unmistakably so." He Quan Xin nodded, thinking back to how Lin Tao Li had visited their village, the He Family stronghold, in an attempt to recruit He Yi Ming. Yet, he had left disheartened and disappointed. He Yi Ming had once battled Lin Tao Li, which left him with a lasting impression of their attire, making it only natural for him to recognize these people. However, what they didn’t know was that He Yi Ming didn't recognize them from their clothing alone but rather from a mark on Li Fu Zhou's hand. Although the mark wasn't the Subduing Earth Seal or the Cloud and Rain Seal, He Yi Ming's keen eyes quickly discerned it. He saw that the hand seal technique this man used originated from the same roots as the Lin Family’s innate seals. Compared to Lin Tao Li's display, the seal used by Li Fu Zhou fell significantly short in power, not even on the same level. Whether it was due to his inadequate mastery or the inherent limits of the technique's power, it failed to impress He Yi Ming. Though He could dismiss it lightly, Zhong Pu Yuan couldn’t. His eyes widened, and he got notably tense, circulating his inner strength at top speed, gathering every ounce of his energy. Li Fu Zhou's hand seal brought immense pressure, and Zhong realized he was up against possibly the strongest opponent he had ever faced. Suddenly, Li Fu Zhou let out a light shout, stepped forward, and brought down his hand seal like a hammer crashing down on Zhong Pu Yuan. It was indeed a smash—direct, ferocious—affording no room for evasion. Zhong Pu Yuan’s legs moved like flowing water as he retreated, only to realize that the seal's trajectory unwaveringly locked on him, regardless of where he moved. This struck terror in him—what kind of technique could inspire such baseless fear? If only he knew that this combat technique was a derivative of an innate technique—he might have taken it differently. Innate techniques represent supreme power. Even after being simplified to just three percent of their strength for ordinary postnatal cultivators, they remained formidable, making evasion impossible for someone like him. Deciding he couldn’t dodge, Zhong Pu Yuan resolutely steeled himself to fight back. With a roar, he raised his hands to counter the seal with all his might. Then he noticed Li Fu Zhou’s mocking smile, ridiculing his futile attempts. Cold sweat drenched Zhong’s back as regret washed over him. Nevertheless, he was committed, with no way to retreat. He consolidated his internal strength, mustering it forward. Suddenly, someone appeared before him. As his palms struck, he could not withdraw them, landing squarely on the newcomer’s back. Alarmed, Zhong pondered—how could this figure appear so untouchably and unexpectedly? A soft sound followed, surprisingly not emanating from the person’s back but rather from the front. He pondered bewildered, wondering if he had unwittingly unlocked some miraculous ability akin to “strike the mountain and cause the tiger to flee,” impacting the front despite hitting the back. Yet, the truth was evident within an instant. Turning sideways, he saw it clearly—it was He Yi Ming standing between him and Li Fu Zhou. Upon recognizing He Yi Ming, Zhong understood regardless of his own force, the notion of injuring this person was but daydreaming folly. Respectfully, he stepped back, arms lowered, adopting a posture of utmost deference. At that instant, Li Fu Zhou’s seal crashed onto He Yi Ming’s chest and abdomen—vital regions of the body—with the combined force from an eighth-level practitioner and top-tier battle technique. Despite that, the smiling young man before him appeared unharmed, to Li Fu Zhou’s astonishment. He took several steps back, face pale, and with sheer fear in his gaze toward He Yi Ming. Even without an overt aura, he couldn't muster the courage for further provocation. His companions’ wary expressions mirrored this realization, and the arrogance dissipated from their demeanor. He Yi Ming softly brushed at his chest, as if shooing away dust, and asked, “Are you with the Lin Family from Linlang?” Hearing his mild tone, Li Fu Zhou exhaled in relief, glancing back. The leader of their group walked forward, cupping his hands. “Indeed, we are from the Lin Family in Linlang. On the road tonight, we missed our stop, causing this conflict. It’s a regrettable misunderstanding on our part, and we ask for your forgiveness.” He Yi Ming sighed inwardly at their discernment, recognizing their position and accordingly adopting humility. “No need for concern. As it’s a misunderstanding, it’s fine to move past it.” The man bowed deeply, introducing himself, “I am Lin Wen Kai, a steward from the Lin Family. May I ask your esteemed name?” Noticing He Yi Ming’s youthful appearance yet profound strength, Lin Wen Kai was genuinely astonished. With a gentle smile, He Yi Ming replied, “He Yi Ming from Taicang County.” “Taicang County?” Lin Wen Kai’s head shot up in surprise, reflecting the sentiment shared by Li Fu Zhou and their companions. A slight frown creased He Yi Ming’s brow as an overwhelming sense of foreboding crept over him; his instincts had seldom led him astray. “Is there some issue?” he asked in a grave tone. Hesitating, Lin Wen Kai appeared contemplative, asking tentatively, “Are you He Yi Ming from the He Family, one of the three major families in Taicang County?” “Indeed.” “Have you returned from a trip, not yet reaching Taicang County?” Lin Wen Kai probed. “Yes.” He Yi Ming’s gaze sharpened, “Has something happened to our He Family?” Lin Wen Kai chuckled ruefully, “To be frank, seven days ago, four major bandit groups from Tai’a County gathered unexpectedly and swiftly moved towards Taicang, attacking the county seat with overwhelming force.” “What?” In a blink, He Quan Xin and his son He Yi Tian hurried out, their expressions becoming increasingly grim. “What happened after that?” Shaking his head briefly, Lin Wen Kai replied, “The latest information we received was that the county seat had fallen—nothing beyond that. Our master sent us to gather intel on Taicang County. However, these bandits are ruthless outlaws who care little for human life. I fear…” Though Lin Wen Kai paused, everyone grasped the ominous implication. He Yi Ming’s expression darkened, his eyes glinting with an irrepressible chill. “Father, Mother,” he murmured softly, raising his head. Taking a deep breath, he declared, “Uncle, brother, I’m going ahead.” Before his words fully settled, He Yi Ming vanished like a specter. All they heard moments later was the rapid, drum-like sound of hooves, while a crimson figure vanished from sight...