From a Martial Arts Sect to an Immortal Cultivation Sect Chapter 102
When Yan Lan saw the Forbidden Martial Guards walking out from the darkness, he did not panic.
The officials behind him were equally calm.
An old minister stepped forward and said, “Your Majesty, though your Forbidden Martial Guards are strong, they are limited in number. Now that the imperial palace has already been seized, you should abandon resistance. You can become the Retired Emperor, not the Late Emperor.”
His long brows drooped low, covering his eyes, yet his words fully revealed his ambition.
“You old relics… half your bodies are already buried in the ground, yet your ambitions only grow larger.”
The Emperor’s voice came from the front.
His tone sounded as if he had just awoken from sleep—without the slightest hint of anger or killing intent.
Another old minister spoke up.
“If the realm were stable and the people lived in peace, would we still don these robes of office? Zhao Zhi, you usurped the throne of Zhao Yan. Had you ruled with diligence, perhaps we would have held our tongues. But you have committed countless atrocities. When you descend into the underworld, how will you face the Imperial Ancestor?”
Hearing this, Yan Lan’s gaze turned cold once more.
He knew that his actions today would earn him eternal condemnation from future generations.
Yet, for the sake of the common people, he was willing to bear that infamy.
“Descend into the underworld? Hahahahaha—”
The Emperor laughed as though he had just heard the greatest joke beneath the heavens.
His body trembled violently with laughter within the darkness.
Xuan Gong stood motionless before him; beneath his mask, his eyes glowed like a vengeful ghost’s, staring down at Yan Lan and the others.
“I am destined for immortality. How could I descend into the underworld? I shall be the eternal Son of Heaven of the Great Li Dynasty. Through the ages, I will lead Great Li to an era of unparalleled prosperity. In the eyes of posterity, the chaos of these years will be nothing—they will only sing praises of my greatness. As for you all, you will be remembered as power-hungry fools who opposed the immortal emperor and shall be cursed for eternity.”
The Emperor’s deranged and fanatical laughter sent chills through the hall.
Every minister frowned, believing that the Emperor had gone mad.
“Where is Xuan Gong!”
“This servant is here!”
“Kill everyone except the Crown Prince. Leave not a single intact corpse!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
As soon as Xuan Gong replied, he raised his right hand.
All the Forbidden Martial Guards drew their blades and charged toward the Imperial Guardian Army, the officials’ retainers, and their guards.
Blood quickly splattered across the threshold of the Qianwu Hall.
The flashes of blades and swords flickered again and again.
Within less than ten breaths, someone fled out of the hall in panic.
It was Jia Yi.
His face was pale with terror as he dashed down the white stone steps, using his lightness skill at full speed.
Even when other Imperial Guardians called out to him, he ignored them completely, as though he had witnessed the most terrifying sight in the world.
……
Clang!
A horizontal blade skidded to a stop before Yan Lan’s feet.
Behind him, an old minister clutched his neck, unable to stop the gushing blood.
In the next instant, a Forbidden Martial Guard severed his legs.
With a wail, he fell into a pool of blood, never to rise again.
All around Yan Lan lay corpses and mangled remains, surrounded by Forbidden Martial Guards.
Yan Lan clenched his hands within his sleeves.
He exhaled softly, and the fear in his eyes turned once more into calm resolve.
He gazed toward the Emperor hidden in the darkness and spoke, “They say I am too soft-hearted, that I dare not kill my father. In truth, it was not fear that stayed my hand, but uncertainty. Yet now, you force me… and they force me. I have no path left to retreat.”
The Emperor sneered.
“Those fools think the great enterprise lies before them. But you, you see clearly—indeed worthy of being my son. Kneel now, and I shall grant you a dignified death.”
Yan Lan stared at the shadowed figure of his father and shouted, “Father, have you been possessed by a demon, or are you truly blinded by ignorance? Do you really believe in the so-called Elixir of Immortality? The Nine Provinces and Fourteen Regions hold seven thousand years of history—yet where has there ever been an immortal man?”
“Others may not succeed, but that does not mean I cannot. I once wished to let you remain Crown Prince for eternity, but your behavior disappoints me. No matter—sons are easily replaced. For all who oppose me—death awaits!”
The Emperor’s tone turned icy, filled with murderous intent.
Yan Lan fell silent, knowing that words were useless now.
He gripped the sword at his waist, drew it, and pointed it toward the Emperor.
Though surrounded by dozens of Forbidden Martial Guards, even if he could not slay the Emperor, he would at least die with his stance made clear.
“Xuan Gong, break his knees for me. I want him to kneel!” the Emperor said coldly.
“Yes!”
Xuan Gong answered and gestured for the Guards to step aside.
Facing the demon-like Xuan Gong, Yan Lan showed no fear.
He merely sighed in his heart, “Zhen’er, Father will not be there to watch you grow up.”
Boom—
A terrifying gust surged upward as Xuan Gong leapt, his kick striking toward Yan Lan with lethal force.
Yan Lan’s eyes widened instinctively.
Clang—
A crisp sword cry rang out.
Yan Lan’s eyes flickered in shock as his mouth parted slightly.
Two swords crossed before him, blocking Xuan Gong’s kick.
The violent energy blasted gusts that whipped his robes and hair backward, and he even saw an energy barrier shimmering before him.
He turned and saw one figure on each side—two people holding swords, shielding him from harm.
Xuan Gong’s pupils contracted as he suddenly leapt backward, landing before the steps.
He stared coldly at the two mysterious black-clad figures and demanded, “Who are you? There are few in the martial world with such skill as yours—you are no nameless wanderers!”
Jiang Zhaoxia raised one hand, grabbed Yan Lan’s shoulder, and leapt upward, soaring like an immortal as he attempted to carry Yan Lan out of the Qianwu Hall.
Xuan Gong’s eyes glinted sharply, and he waved his hand.
Dozens of Forbidden Martial Guards charged forth immediately.
Xu Ning remained where she stood, sweeping her sword in rapid arcs.
Her sword energy burst outward, sweeping across all directions, forcibly blocking the encroaching Guards.
Xuan Gong darted through the gap between two Guards like a phantom, striking a palm toward Xu Ning.
Xu Ning lifted her sword to block, but the force of their clash sent both reeling backward.
Borrowing the recoil, she flew out of the Qianwu Hall, tracing a perfect arc under the moonlight before landing beneath the white stone steps.
Jiang Zhaoxia and Yan Lan followed right behind her.
Ahead, the palace gates were blocked by the Forbidden Martial Guards.
On the palace walls in every direction, their dark forms stood in rows.
Clad in black brocade robes and wearing Evil Ghost Masks, brandishing all manner of weapons, they looked like specters from the underworld descending upon the mortal realm.
Xuan Gong appeared atop the white stone steps like a phantom, looking down upon the three coldly.
“Tonight, none of you will leave alive!”
With that, he leapt high into the air, raising his right palm.
Centuries of cultivation surged within it, erupting into a domineering aura.
……
Snow fell endlessly between heaven and earth.
The blazing sun above the firmament cast its light across the frozen land, bringing a faint warmth to the icy world.
At noon that day, Xue Jin returned with the Twelve Sword Fiends, meeting Li Qingqiu alone.
“It was the Pei Clan of Zhenyang sending assassins after our sect disciples. I don’t know how much silver they’ve spent or how many killers they’ve hired. To end this threat, the Pei Clan must be destroyed. Sect Master, please give the order—our Thirteen Sword Fiends are willing to go to Zhenyang City and slaughter the entire Pei Clan!”
Xue Jin spoke rapidly, his tone fierce and resolute.
Li Qingqiu rolled his eyes and snapped, “You always want to exterminate entire clans. Do you take the Clear Sky Sect for a demonic sect?”
Xue Jin fell silent, though inwardly he thought—the Clear Sky Sect has destroyed plenty of powers before.
“Zhenyang City isn’t as simple as you think. You might cause storms in the martial world, but within the imperial city, beware of being slain by experts lurking in the alleys,” Li Qingqiu said calmly.
He needed to properly rein Xue Jin in—this boy thought that reaching the Fourth Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm made him invincible.
That wouldn’t do.
Xue Jin opened his mouth but dared not argue.
“Rest well for now,” Li Qingqiu continued.
“Until you reach the Fifth Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, I won’t allow you to lead any missions down the mountain.”
Xue Jin asked in frustration, “Then what about the Pei Clan? They’re still killing our disciples!”
“Who said I wouldn’t handle it? I’ll send others.”
Hearing that, Xue Jin finally relaxed.
He had only worried the Sect Master might hesitate.
Fortunately, the Sect Master was still as decisive and ruthless as ever.
“Your master isn’t here. No need to pay respects. Go rest.”
“Yes!”
Xue Jin bowed and left.
Li Qingqiu then walked toward the back mountain.
When he reached the cliff’s edge, he leapt into the air as the Tianhong Sword flew forth before him.
Riding upon his sword, he soared among the mountains, cutting through the boundless snow mist.
This Sword-Riding Technique was created by Jiang Zhaoxia and later improved by Li Qingqiu.
To step upon the sword’s edge and fly was certainly impressive—but with the blade leading and his sword energy pulling him forward, it consumed less Vital Energy and was far faster.
With his current cultivation, he no longer needed Little Eight as a mount—Little Eight couldn’t even fly as fast as he could now.
Only when he was flying did he truly feel like an Immortal Cultivator.
When would the disciples of the sect all learn to ride swords? What a magnificent sight that would be—thousands of disciples soaring through the skies together!
Before long, he entered the rolling mists of toxic vapor and flew straight into the Blessed Land of a Thousand Spirits.
Descending from the sky, he landed before the Thousand Spirit Tree.
The Tianhong Sword circled him twice before sliding neatly back into its sheath.
The sight made Zhao Zhen’s eyes shine.
He shouted, “Master, that move is amazing! Can you teach me?”
“Your cultivation isn’t enough.”
Li Qingqiu replied casually.
At the moment, only Zhao Zhen, Yuan Li, and Ji Ya were under the Thousand Spirit Tree, which was why he dared to fly straight here.
Had there been other disciples around, he would have landed midway in the forest and walked the rest of the way.
Li Qingqiu sat beneath the tree and began meditating—he too needed to cultivate, striving to reach the Eighth Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm as soon as possible.
As he closed his eyes, time passed swiftly.
No one knew how long it had been when Zhao Zhen and Ji Ya rose to spar.
With no outsiders around, Ji Ya fought without restraint, directly casting the Mountain Lord Divine Incantation, summoning a towering Mountain Lord spirit two zhang tall.
Zhao Zhen grinned, leapt into the air, and performed the Divine Dragon Transformation.
His Vital Energy formed a dragon that coiled around him, then lunged toward Ji Ya.
Dragon and tiger clashed midair, surging gusts sweeping through the area, drawing envious looks from Yuan Li who sat meditating beneath the tree.
Li Qingqiu opened his eyes, noticed Yuan Li’s expression, and pondered how to help him awaken the Undying Overlord Body.
Should he give him… a little push?
Lately, Li Qingqiu had been contemplating soul-related techniques and already had some insights.
He could use the Soul Restraining Curse to lead Yuan Li into an illusion—one where reality and illusion became indistinguishable.