I heard that the Golden Immortal Feng Xu and Fang You have quite a close relationship, and Feng Xu intends to auction the Ying Dragon at the Shifang City’s auction next March."
It’s called an auction, but in reality, who doesn’t know that this Heaven and Mortal World, when it cos to wealth and supremacy, only Shifang prevails.
An Ancient True Dragon is absolutely unique, with every part of it being a treasure; Shifang City’s ambitions aren’t small, and naturally, they will offer enough benefits to this Golden Immortal.
Jun He spoke again: "Even though over the past three years, the Young Master has secretly established ’One Drop of Blood’, making great progress, the developnt ti is ultimately too short.
In terms of financial power, we are only comparable to first-rate Immortal Sect forces, and far from matching a colossal entity like Shifang City."
Baili An thought for a mont and then said: "The auction conference is next March, which ans there are still seven months..."
He raised his eyes to look at Jun He, his pupils dark:" If before then, we could swallow the Underground Dark City, Senior Brother, do you think we might have the strength to compete with Shifang City?"
Jun He was genuinely shocked by Baili An’s subtle ambition.
But after thinking it over carefully, it wasn’t without rit to try such a risk.
Only... the idea of swallowing the mysterious forces entrenched beneath the mortal world’s dark filth soil within seven months is sowhat fantastical.
Baili An wasn’t soone who only dread unrealistic dreams; he naturally knew the difficulty of such a matter.
"If we want to succeed, blindly planning and arranging is certainly inadequate; this matter needs careful consideration."
He was trapped by the Nine Nethers netherworld fire for three whole years; now that he’s back in the mortal world, he certainly needs to beco well acquainted with it before proceeding with his plans.
Though the path ahead is as steep as a mountain of ten thousand ren, for Baili An, now having news of Xiao Bai is indeed a great piece of news.
According to Jun He’s description, the nearest Underground Dark City organization to Baili An’s current location is in the Zhao State, seven hundred li to the east.
Zhao State is a small country among the nurous ones, in the mid-lower tier; the Immortal Sects nurtured within it are mostly third-rate.
Even the National Sect is barely a second-rate Immortal Sect, and in recent years, it has been deeply poisoned by the rampant Underground Dark City.
According to Jun He’s information, the King of Zhao is cowardly and greedy, and the Qingluo Palace Master deeply submits to the Underground Dark City.
Even the disciples under his palace can be offered to the sub-altar master of the Underground Dark City for secret technique experints.
The whole country is filled with complaints, and mortal commoners live in distress, with widespread turmoil and misery throughout.
It’s anticipated that the country’s value will be entirely squeezed dry by the Underground Dark City, and it may soon be easily abandoned, to be divided and devoured by other countries.
Baili An, by chance, wants to buy so information in the Underground Dark City.
Unlike Jun He, Baili An, enriched by Zangxin’s mories, is well-versed in the affairs of the mortal world, the demon world.
But as strong as he is, he cannot extend his reach into the Immortal World, leaving him helpless regarding Golden Immortal Feng Xu.
Yet the City Lord of the Underground Dark City is Zhao Wenjun, the Princess of Qin; this woman has hidden gold for many years, and in terms of skills and thods, she’s actually above Baili Yu.
Under her managent, the Underground Dark City is indeed thriving, and in the re aspect of selling intelligence, it’s unmatched across the Six Realms.
What cannot be found in Jun He’s hands might be found in the Underground Dark City.
For Baili An, Yin Baishuang, and Ying Ji, the seven hundred li journey is rely the work of one hour.
Jun He had long prepared the conditions for Baili An to enter the Underground Dark City, but facts proved Jun He overestimated the King of Zhao’s power.
Before Baili An and his entourage could enter the city, they witnessed the fall of Zhao State with their own eyes.
The gates of Zhao State’s capital were wide open, and countless citizens were streaming out with their baggage and children in tow.
Outside the city walls, there was no army lying in ambush.
Inside the city, there were no battle cries or alarms, just sword qi crisscrossing, marking a slaughter throughout the city.
Yet amidst the fierce sword qi dispersal, it did not fall upon the mortal commoners without cultivation.
Occasionally, a strand of sword qi would slice through the crowd, killing those cultivators who attempted to disguise themselves among the commoners to escape the city.
Baili An landed on the city wall with Sword Control, his gaze piercing through the heavy stench and blood rain, watching the endless shuttle of Sword Control in the sky above, with a majestic figure, his sword robe flapping fiercely.
The black-red fire-stepping night Qilin’s totem emblem, under the blood-drenched sunset, appeared as clouds, its aura and elegance far from being matched by ordinary Immortal Sect cultivators.
Baili An’s eyes involuntarily revealed complex emotions.
As soon as he left the Central Netherworld, he imdiately encountered the disciples of the Tianxi Sword Sect.
Baili An couldn’t help but suspect that this encounter was deliberately arranged by Jun He. In the main sword array crisscrossing the sky, Baili An saw a familiar silhouette.
The Snow Sword swept horizontally in mid-air, its sword Qi strong yet retractable, with explosive power so domineering and astonishing that it carried a hint of distant ancient coldness. The space turned abruptly cold, and the sword Qi left traces in the wind, swirling with a sharp atmosphere like frost and dust.
In the northwest, military forces were concentrated, protecting the King of Zhao and preparing for a desperate attempt to break out of the city with over a thousand n.
Under the sweep of this traceable sword Qi, a spiritual power node three inches below the neck suddenly exploded, blood gushed forth, and one’s entire cultivation was swept clean by a single sword.
The entire force of over a thousand elite troops instantly lost their ability to move, unable even to hold their heavy swords steadily, and amidst screams of agony, they fell like felled onions.
Only the inept ruler stood there in horror and fear, tears and snot streaming.
Yun Rong stood silently as the sun’s golden light set, her dark clothing and ink-black hair accentuating her snow-white skin and long neck. Her autumn-water like eyes were clear and deep, her browbone like the strong branch of a plum tree.
Even amidst this bloody slaughter, her deanor held a hint of cold indifference.
The sword in her hand was filled with killing intent, yet when wielded, it did not take a single life.
Yun Rong lightly raised her slender, well-proportioned hand, gently smoothing out the slightly loose sword robe on her.
She calmly surveyed the tragic scene in the city, her pale profile slightly angled, giving instructions to a junior disciple behind her: "Capture those prisoners and hand them over to Senior Sister for interrogation."
The young disciple had already cupped his hands in salute, ready to respond affirmatively.
Just at that mont, a fiercer and dense gale swept down from above, shaking the city’s walls, hiding the sound of dragon-sword singing deep inside, as if traversing thousands of troops, clashing and shouting, like a divine spirit wiping away all traces of life.
The wind tore at clothes, the heads of the thousand cultivators fell like ripe fruit from trees, rolling and tumbling.
Blood dyed the earth red, and even as the wild wind rose, it carried with it an intense scent of blood.
The fleeing populace in the city knew their lives were not at risk, yet could not help but scream and cry out at the bloody scene.
Baili An suddenly sensed a subtle change in the aura beside him, he felt it, and his gaze turned towards it.
In the distance, at a tall building where the mountains t the sky, stood a figure in a black-red sword robe bathed in the blood-like glow of the setting sun, seeming out of place amidst the battlefield, eerily silent.
It seed to be lting into the sunlight, there was not a trace of warmth on that once spirited sword robe.
He descended the high building step by step, the thickening blood on the red lacquered wooden stairs soon stained the white soles of his boots. The man’s hand firmly pressed on the unsheathed sword at his waist.
The sword, however, was no longer the renowned Shenglong, but an ordinary Dao Sword commonly seen in Immortal Sects.
"Don’t kill ... don’t kill ... it has nothing to do with ... really has nothing to do with ..."
The King of Zhao seeing the approaching figure seed to lose his spirit.
His legs trembled violently, he couldn’t summon the usual dignity of referring to himself as ’Emperor’.
He rubbed his hands together anxiously in front of his chest, pleading in a humble and pitiable manner.
Baili Yu remained expressionless, his gaze seemingly falling straight into the Abyss.
He did not turn his gaze, even as he walked past the inept ruler of Zhao, his hand left the sheath of his sword.
The King of Zhao’s voice suddenly disappeared, he was cut in half at the waist, lying in a pool of blood, silent forever.
Baili Yu raised his eyes, his indifferent gaze seeming to glance at Yun Rong, speaking softly: "Under evil disciples, there are no prisoners."
It was then Baili An noticed his forr father, world-famous Sword Master, foremost among the seven sons of Country of Qin, the most handso man among nations.
At this mont, his hair had turned gray, filled with decay and death.
The once bright, sword-like eyes were now like they had subrged in a muddy swamp, and couldn’t see a glimr of light or brilliance.
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