Silence. A deathly stillness settled over the vast venue.
One by one, gazes contracted, fixating on Yang Hu as if they had seen a ghost.
Could it be that everyone with close ties to Chen Yang possessed strength surpassing that of Thousand-Faced Yama? No wonder Yang Hu had so brazenly declared that if Gan Haotian didn't take off his clothes, he would personally skin him... This was far too audacious.
A chill seeped into Gan Haotian's bones. That was a man from the Chen Imperial Clan, even if he was just an in-law. His status was supre, yet he was killed with a single slash?
At last, Mr. Gan realized he had grossly miscalculated.
Swallowing hard, Gan Haotian forced himself to speak. "What are you all waiting for? This is a funeral. We must show the deceased the respect he is due."
Holding his blood-drenched saber, Yang Hu glanced down at Gan Haotian and said indifferently, "Oh, so now you rember respect? A mont ago, weren't you insufferably arrogant?"
Gan Haotian's throat was tight; he had no reply.
By now, Chen Yang had walked into the hall of mourning. Paper money burned, candlelight flickered, and the scent of Qingxiang lingered in the air. Each detail seed to silently narrate the story of the deceased's life. He was once a man of imnse influence who controlled the Martial Departnt, yet his smile was as warm as that of an elderly neighbor. His every expression felt like it had happened only yesterday.
Alas, in less than a year, eternity had cleaved the bond between heaven and man. They would never again see the old man standing in the Elders' Court, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This special day was ant for all to mourn the old man in peace, free from any disturbance. But now…
This was not how it should be.
"You may disrespect , Chen Yang," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But you will not disrespect my ntor. You will not cause trouble at his funeral."
CRACK!
Chen Yang clenched his fists, the sound chilling everyone to the bone.
"That's right!" Yang Hu grabbed Gan Haotian. Pressing down with his right hand, he struck with blinding speed and overwhelming dominance.
Gan Haotian, who was on the verge of becoming the Gan Family Patriarch, didn't even have ti to react.
"rcy… have rcy…"
Gan Haotian's pupils dilated, and his deathly pale face turned a ghastly purple.
Witnessing this, the mbers of the noble families were stunned. Such savage thods… In just a short ti, he hamred Gan Hua to death, beheaded Chen Xin, and now Gan Haotian…
Sharp hisses of indrawn breath filled the air.
"Chen Yang, tis have changed! How dare you still act with such violence?!"
"Such wantonness! Do you really think our Xuanse Sect's Gan Family are pushovers? Get over here at once!"
STOMP, STOMP, STOMP.
The experts of the Gan Family could no longer remain seated. Enraged, their eyes bloodshot, they wished they could flay Chen Yang alive, shatter his bones, and suck the marrow. After all, they were the Gan Family of the Xuanse Sect. Their previous silence was mostly due to being stunned by Yang Hu's power; he had cut down Chen Xin without a second thought. They had hoped to de-escalate the situation, with each side taking a step back.
But in the end, Gan Haotian was still killed.
Most importantly, with so many people watching, if they remained silent and pretended nothing had happened, the entire Gan Family would never be able to hold their heads high again.
"A life for a life! Hurry up and co accept your death!"
"Do you really think you can still run rampant in this day and age?"
Seeing their chance, several other noble families stood up to voice their support, sending their own n to join the Gan Family's ranks. This was their chance. As the saying goes, enough fists can beat a master to death.
The clamor of accusations and condemnations grew louder, wave after wave, soaring into the sky.
But then…
BOOM! BOOM!
Between heaven and earth, snow began to slant through the air. In a mont, a great wind swept through. Just as everyone felt a bone-piercing chill, the dull, thunderous sound of marching footsteps grew louder as it approached from the distance.
In the distance, a vast black shadow was moving toward them.
"Is that… Are those the Ten Thousand Martial Guards?"
"Why has this elite army gotten involved?"
Through the heavy snow that slashed across the sky ca a sea of Martial Guards. They were clad in uniform, their force exuding an overwhelming, murderous aura—like tigers swallowing mountains and rivers—that instantly captured the gaze of all present.
"I don't know what kind of era this is," a voice bood, "but it's certainly not one where a pack of dogs like you can run wild!"
"Draw your swords!"
CLANG!
Tens of millions of Martial Guards drew their war blades in unison, a blinding flash of shimring silver light.
"Commander." Ji Ping, Commander of the Third Division of the Ten Thousand Martial Guards, strode toward Chen Yang. He held a blade in one hand and an open umbrella in the other, his back ramrod straight.
"That won't be necessary." Chen Yang waved a hand, refusing Ji Ping's gesture. He simply stood outside the hall of mourning, letting the wind and snow beat down upon him.
Ji Ping closed the umbrella and stood quietly to the side.
At that, the atmosphere on the field beca instantly awkward. Chen Yang stood unbowed by the wind and snow, paying his respects to the deceased. In the face of his reverence, who among the others—be they from noble families or renowned figures—dared to keep their umbrellas raised?
Yang Hu took out a new pair of white gloves and slowly pulled them on. A wicked smile blood on his face as his sharp eyes swept over the crowd, inch by inch. No one dared to et his gaze. A heavy, oppressive silence fell, as if everyone had a fishbone stuck in their throat.
SWOOSH. SWOOSH.
One after another, they all closed their umbrellas. Despite the wind that cut like a knife, no one dared to shield themselves, standing silently in the biting blizzard.
"Those of you with ulterior motives should either get out now or co back after you've shed your skins," Chen Yang's quiet voice echoed through the wind and snow.
His gaze, from beginning to end, never left the Great Elder's funeral portrait. He seed terrified that if he turned away, he would never be able to see it again. He hadn't been there for the elder's final monts; today, he wanted to look a while longer.
THUMP!
In front of everyone, Chen Yang's knees bent, and he knelt squarely before the hall of mourning. Before this, he had only ever knelt to the heroic souls of those who died in battle beyond the borders of Hanyun Valley.
"Chen Yang has returned." His voice trembled, thick with sorrow.
The old man often said, "Beneath a setting sun and chaotic snow, with swords that sweep the heavens, countless Martial Guards lie buried in the green mountains. Their deeds must not fade into silence."
Heroes should not remain naless.
And so, the Heroes' Park was built before the national gates at Hanyun Valley. The na of every Martial Guard who shed their blood on the battlefield was carved into the Heroes' morial Wall. Not a single one was missed. They had earned the right to be mourned and revered by the world.
Perhaps one day, Chen Yang's na would also appear on the Monunt of Heroic Spirit, gazing out over this vast land of rivers and mountains.
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