In the spacious front courtyard, thousands of eyes gaped in astonishnt, everyone collectively sucking in a sharp breath.
Although Tang Likun was not a man of many words, his formidable strength was clear to all. He was a genuine Heaven Saint powerhouse. Chen Yang and Chen Hua were indeed powerful, but in the eyes of a Heaven Saint, they still fell short.
Yet, the two had sohow managed to turn the tables and score a counter-kill.
This…
GULP.
Whether it was Tang Fan, Luo Yunhai, or anyone else present, they all swallowed hard.
BOOM!
With a gentle flick of his wrist, Chen Yang made Tang Likun's body, already drained of most of its life force, dissipate completely into the wind and snow.
Blood trickled from the corner of Chen Yang's mouth as he dragged his longsword, walking step by step toward Chen Hua. The blood dripped down, soaking into the thick snow and staining it a fiendish scarlet.
For a mont, the only sound in the vast courtyard was the scrape of the Traveling Dragon Sword against the ground. The sound wasn't loud, but in the silence, it was ear-piercing. It echoed through the snowstorm, surrounding the man who emanated an aura of desolate loneliness, as if in the vastness of heaven and earth, he had no one to accompany him.
THUMP.
In front of Chen Hua, Chen Yang knelt on one knee, propping himself up with his sword, his head bowed low. No words were spoken, only two streams of tears. This man, the man they called the Demon Monarch, had risked his life ti and again to protect him, yet he had never even bought him a drink.
And now…
A man doesn't shed tears lightly; he cries only when his heart is truly broken.
"Uncle," Chen Yang called out softly.
The world was desolate, with only the howling of the wind and snow in response.
"UNCLE!"
Chen Yang's hair stood on end as overwhelming grief and murderous intent erupted from him like a tempest, blasting outward in all directions. The wind and snow recoiled from the rolling sound waves.
"So noisy."
Chen Yang was speechless.
"I'm not dead yet, you brat. What are you yelling for? Are you mourning ?" Chen Hua, already covered in a layer of white snow, suddenly moved and struggled to climb to his feet.
Chen Yang was speechless again. He quickly helped him up, weeping with joy. "Uncle."
"If I, Chen Hua, wanted to die, Yama himself wouldn't dare to take !" Chen Hua grinned, his teeth bared in a wide laugh. He looked as if he had just been pulled from a pool of blood—ghastly and wretched. His smile, in particular, was unnervingly eerie.
"Are you okay?" Chen Yang asked.
"Not dead yet."
Chen Hua wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and declared proudly, "They call the Demon Monarch for a reason. How could a single palm strike kill ? Not even a Heaven Saint could do it!"
His words were boastful, but they were also incredibly comforting.
Snowflakes brushed his face as Chen Yang slowly turned around. His blood-soaked clothes fluttered in the wind, and his cold eyes were calm and collected—sharper than Chen Hua's, and even more unfathomable. He turned very slowly, inch by inch, like a slow-motion replay in a film. Every fra, every detail was perfectly captured.
"Justice in this world, the truth of right and wrong—these are things your Imperial Clan cannot suppress!"
A single sentence seed to shake the mountains and rivers. Whether it was Tang Fan, Luo Yunhai, or anyone else present, a stunned silence fell over them.
Sharp gasps were heard as the entire scene once again fell into a deathly silence.
The group of nobles who had been waiting for Chen Yang's demise blanched, their expressions shifting rapidly as they instinctively retreated. This was especially true for Tang Fan.
DA DA DA.
As the Imperial Clan Young Descendant stumbled backward, his face turned visibly pale. His expression grew frantic, and his gaze lost focus.
"Quickly, protect ! Quickly!" he shouted in terror to the clan mbers around him.
However, no one responded. Everyone was petrified with fear—that was their Great Elder, after all!
Crackles of energy surrounded the sword in Chen Yang's hand as he finally fixed his unhurried gaze on Tang Fan. Yet that simple motion made him seem like a dust-covered War God gradually stirring back to life. Faint golden ripples emanated from his blood-soaked clothes, and his eyes seed to contain a flowing river of stars. He was no re mortal; his gaze was vast and unmatched.
Tang Fan stiffened. Faced with that aura and bearing, he felt as if he was gazing upon a Commander clad in battle armor, one who could sweep across the heavens and earth, the Four Seas and Eight Wastelands.
Tang Fan's breath hitched, and he felt the stench of death encroaching. "W-What more do you want?"
Chen Yang said nothing. With a re flick of his forearm, he sent the Traveling Dragon Sword flying.
SHING!
A cold gleam of light shot straight for Tang Fan.
"You…" A chill enveloped Tang Fan's body, and he scrambled backward explosively.
Then, starting with the man directly behind the Young Master, one Imperial Clan mber after another fell. Their blood splashed onto the snow, each drop carrying a bone-chilling cold that was utterly horrifying.
Chen Yang raised his hand again. A fierce light flashed, and an invisible force seized Tang Fan, yanking him into the air. One mont he was fleeing for his life, the next his feet were dangling helplessly in mid-air.
"A useless glutton like you, playing the part of a savior? Who are you to judge anyone? Hmm?" Chen Yang squeezed Tang Fan's neck, his eyes narrowed. "What do you have to rely on now?"
Tang Fan was speechless.
CRACK.
"In my eyes, you're not even as good as a dog."
With those words, Chen Yang tightened his fingers. Tang Fan's pupils dilated, and the life faded from his eyes.
BOOM!
With a flick of his forearm, Chen Yang flung Tang Fan's body away. It landed with a wet THUD at Luo Yunhai's feet.
"Any last words?" Chen Yang asked.
Luo Yunhai was silent. At that mont, the old man's face was ashen. His posture was stooped, and he seed to have aged more than a decade in an instant.
So this is the fate of the Imperial Clan. I thought the tables had truly turned, but… he really is invincible, isn't he? Heh…
Luo Yunhai let out a long breath. He looked up at the gloomy sky and spread his arms wide as if to embrace sothing, letting the wind and snow beat against his face. He spoke in a low voice, "If I have another life, I want to be a carpenter."
His father had been a carpenter. He had taught him ti and again that a man only lives once. In that one life, he should leave his mark on the world with his contributions. And if he couldn't contribute, he should at least not cause chaos.
BANG.
A sword pierced the air, its intent as cold as frost. It shot through his body, the sheer force of its montum carrying him backward until he was pinned diagonally to the gate of the Luo Family Ancestral Mansion.
***
Between heaven and earth, the snowstorm raged. The land was blanketed in white, and the wind cut like a knife.
The West Sea and Dugu imperial clans, led by the Sovereign of the West Sea, Li Jiangong, descended upon the Qingyuan River, besieging the entire Chen Clan.
In an instant, the whole of Cangyun City was in an uproar.
In less than half an hour, the Chen Family's heavily armored guards were almost annihilated. More than half of the nine Elders were dead or gravely injured. Even Chen Shangwu, the Sovereign of the Chen Clan, and the Great Elder Chen Guangyi, were blood-soaked and now surrounded by several masters from the two rival imperial clans, unable to hold out much longer.
"Chen Yang is a monstrously talented aberration who goes against all ethical norms. As long as he lives, he will be a great scourge to the world." Li Jiangong stood with one hand clasped behind his back, the other holding a blood-drenched longsword. His luxurious brocade robe whipped and snapped in the wind. His voice bood across the riverside, as loud as the clash of a thousand-man army on a battlefield.
"Chen Shangwu, for the sake of that little bastard, are you really willing to sacrifice the entire Chen Family?"
"..."
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