Chapter Seventy: Furious Slash—The Sword Immortal's Cultivation Destroyed

The clash just now, though it seemed to stretch on, had in truth occurred in the blink of an eye. If not for the one-meter-wide pit in the ground bearing witness, no one would have known that Shen Que, whose face was now ashen, had just taken a turn at death’s door.

"Bai Mu, are you all right?" Ling Yan hurriedly descended the stone steps of the Sword Pavilion, her face alight with concern before she even reached him.

"I'm fine, but he is far less fortunate," Bai Mu replied impassively, pointing to where the Lord of Heaven’s Retribution stood.

At that moment, Shen Que, supported by Heaven’s Retribution, let out a wretched cry and spat a mouthful of blood, his body collapsing limply to the ground.

Seeing this, Heaven’s Retribution quickly steadied Shen Que’s enfeebled form, anxiously asking, "Nephew Shen Que, how do you feel?"

"I... I..." Shen Que answered haltingly, blood dripping from his lips, "My meridians... and my spirit core... have been destroyed by this... boy!"

Heaven’s Retribution gasped in shock and immediately grasped Shen Que’s left wrist, channeling a thread of spiritual power and his divine sense into the man’s body.

Yet the energy vanished like water into sand, unable to connect with Shen Que’s own spiritual power; his divine sense could not even detect the presence of the spirit core in his abdomen.

One must understand—the spirit core is the wellspring of a cultivator’s strength. Ordinarily, with Heaven’s Retribution’s level of divine sense, he could easily assess the strength of another’s spirit core. But now, he could sense nothing within Shen Que, nor could he find the core’s presence. As for the seven meridians and eight vessels, they were a jumbled ruin, like broken bridges.

Unless the eldest brother Heaven’s Judgment or the War God Burning Spirit intervened, there was no one in the Hall of the Void who could reconnect or repair the shattered channels.

In other words, after this battle, Shen Que was crippled—ruined for life.

Shen Que, once the pride of the second generation of the Hall of the Void—this mighty figure who had dominated the Barbarian Realms for centuries—had been stripped of all his cultivation by an unknown youth in a single stroke. If word of this spread, it would become a laughingstock for the ages.

If Bai Mu’s defeat of the renowned Ninefold Demon-Slaying Sword Formation of the Hall of the Void could be attributed to luck, then the destruction of Shen Que’s cultivation by a single sword was an irrefutable fact.

Alas...

Heaven’s Retribution sighed deeply, his eyes blazing with anger as he roared, "Shen Que’s cultivation is utterly destroyed; never again shall he wield a sword!"

"Are you sure you’re not mistaken?" The Lord of Heavenly Blaze flashed forward like a phantom, disbelief written all over his face as he questioned.

"How could I be wrong?" Heaven’s Retribution shot his junior brother a glare, then carefully handed the wounded man to him. His expression hardened as he narrowed his eyes at Bai Mu, his tone cold and grim: "You wretched brat, if I do not kill you today, I am not Heaven’s Retribution!"

With that, he placed his hands at his waist and intoned, "You two come at me together, lest others say I bully the weak!"

"That won’t be necessary!" Bai Mu met his gaze, anger simmering in his eyes as he stubbornly replied, "Things have come to this—there’s no resolving it without one of us dying!"

"Everything that has happened today is because of me and has nothing to do with Ling Yan. If you want blood, come for me!"

Heaven’s Retribution gave a mirthless smile, shaking his head. "You are indeed hateful, but that little witch is your accomplice. She injured many disciples in the formation, so neither of you will escape unscathed today!"

"You—!"

Bai Mu was so incensed he nearly leapt up, a flash of bitter hatred crossing his face.

The Hall of the Void, which he had always revered as a sacred place, was nothing but a nest of petty, unreasonable men. Ling Yan had only acted in self-defense—how had that made her a villain in their eyes? Were they only to kneel and be slaughtered to prove their innocence?

He wanted to protest further, but Ling Yan had already stepped forward, her voice cold: "Heaven’s Retribution, I’ve long heard that of the Four Sacred Sons of the Hall of the Void, your power is second only to Heaven’s Judgment."

"Since you press so hard today, let me see your vaunted skills myself!"

"Ling Yan, no!" Bai Mu cried out to stop her.

"It’s all right," she replied with a gentle smile, her tone softening. "Bai Mu, Heaven’s Retribution is not like Shen Que or Xuan Yuan. Even if you trained for decades, you would never match him."

She paused, then added, "You’ve spent much of your energy already in the fight just now. If you force yourself to battle again, Heaven’s Retribution’s violent nature will see you killed on the spot!"

"But if you stand against him, won’t you be in danger as well?" Bai Mu persisted.

"It’s fine," Ling Yan replied rationally, lowering her voice. "If it comes to a duel, I won’t necessarily fear this unreasonable old man!"

"When I engage him, you must seize the opportunity to escape down the mountain. If you can reach Eastwatch Mountain, even if the War God Fanxian comes in person to demand retribution, Bai Ze will surely protect you!"

"No—"

"Enough talk!" Ling Yan cut him off, feigning impatience. "When the time comes, do what you can—run if you must. As for my safety, don’t worry. With only these few unreasonable old men in the Hall of the Void, they can do little to harm me!"

With that, Ling Yan strode forward, summoning the Jade Chill Immortal Flute into her hand and assuming an unyielding stance, ready for combat.

Seeing her resolve, Bai Mu could only stand behind her in silent support.

"Ah, is that the Jade Chill Flute you’re holding?" Heaven’s Retribution, though blind in spirit, was sharp-eyed enough to recognize the artifact at once—proof indeed that he was one of the Four Saints of the Hall of the Void.

"Enough talk," Ling Yan replied coolly. "If you want a fight, let us fight!"

Unmoved, she surveyed the surroundings, clearly searching for Xiyan. With such a commotion before the Sword Pavilion, how could the War God’s daughter not be drawn to the scene?

Yet, try as she might, her gaze swept the mountainside and found only crowds of disciples—Xiyan’s ethereal beauty was nowhere to be seen.