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Novel: [The Primordial Law]
Volume 3: [Qiu Prefecture Lantern Festival]
Chapter 39 (183): [The Death of Zhu Huanzhi]
(39th of Volume 3)
Translator: Shadow Knight AK
Editor: Shadow Knight AK
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The host killed his guests?
Zuoqiu Ting's movements were as mysterious as a ghost's. With a mere flicker, he had already slipped through the chaotic crowd outside the Imperial Pavilion, burst through a window, and leaped from the fourth-story pavilion, landing on the tiles and beams before leaping down. The dozens of meters of height held no fear for him.
The Martial-Mystic Cultivators gathered at the railing of the North Hall gasped in shock.
Though they didn't yet know what had happened or why Zuoqiu Ting had instantly concluded that "something major was about to happen" and rushed to the scene without hesitation, Li Weiyi and Zuoqiu Baiyuan rose to their feet almost immediately, preparing to flee.
They trusted the First Inheritor of the Zuoqiu Clan's abilities and wisdom.
He wouldn't make such a grave pronouncement lightly; he must know something they didn't.
"Such speed... Could that Second Miss really be...?"
Qi Wangshu's eyes widened like bronze bells, his heart racing. He was now certain of the "Second Miss's" true identity. It was utterly unbelievable. He couldn't fathom who Li Weiyi truly was or how he could wield such power.
"It must be the First Inheritor from the Zuoqiu Clan who's fond of disguises! Since that's the case, Brother Weiyi, you're not leaving today. First, lend me something."
Qian Yanzhen, seated directly across from Li Weiyi, spoke in a calm, unhurried tone. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, his handsome features as striking as ever, his demeanor still effeminately weak. But his eyes were completely different from before!
The few who had already risen to leave, intending to slip away quickly, felt the air in the Imperial Pavilion thicken. They stared at the only one still seated at the table - the most beautiful man in Zhi Prefecture - with expressions of shock.
"Brother Yanzhen, what do you mean?" Qi Wangshu felt as if he didn't recognize Qian Yanzhen anymore. His heart pounded, and a chill ran down his spine.
Under Qian Yanzhen's gaze, Li Weiyi quickly suppressed his surprise and confusion, secretly circulating Spiritual Qi within him.
"We're not that close. Why don't you ask Old Qi to lend it to you?"
Qi Wangshu's lips trembled: "What exactly do you want to borrow?"
Qian Yanzhen slowly rose to his feet: "This body is indeed handsome and charming, but its value is too low. Brother Weiyi, if you would lend me your body or your skin, I would be eternally grateful. Killing Zuoqiu Ting would be a trivial matter."
The others present, all with formidable cultivation, were aware of the Ember Spirit's existence.
Thus, Qian Yanzhen's words sent shivers down their spines. They felt as if they had plunged into an icy abyss, the clamor and shouts outside fading into the distance.
"I won't lend it."
Li Weiyi's refusal was swift and decisive. He then moved with the agility of a cicada, darting toward the Imperial Pavilion's main door.
The Bright Moon Seven Stars Pavilion was renowned for its abundance of experts. Even the fourth floor was packed with top-tier cultivators. If he could break through the door and blend into the crowd, or escape through a window like Zuoqiu Ting had, even Qian Yanzhen, no matter how powerful, would be forced to admit defeat.
Yet the few yards separating him from the door now felt like an insurmountable distance, as vast as a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers.
As Li Weiyi sprinted forward, he saw it clearly: strands of Spiritual Qi, moving faster than he could, flowed along the walls, floor, and ceiling, converging toward the doors and windows ahead, weaving the entire Imperial Pavilion into a cage.
.....
On the white stone plaza outside the first floor of the Bright Moon Seven Stars Pavilion.
Zhu Clan Heir Zhu Huan, barely past twenty and at the peak of his youthful vigor, stood resplendent in his ornate Spiritual Artifact battle robe. Before he could even activate it, a two-foot-long bone flute pierced through his back.
The bone flute passed through his back and emerged from his chest, accompanied by the sound of his lung lobes and Qi Sea exploding.
Blood dripped steadily from the flute's holes.
This sudden turn of events left everyone present stunned and unable to react.
"This is terrible! Long Ting has killed the Zhu Clan Heir..."
As this cry of alarm rang out, Zhu Huan, despite being mortally wounded, displayed the terrifying strength of a Successor. He let out a long roar, and Sixth-Level Qi erupted from his back like a raging inferno, transforming into a blinding cloud of fire.
The shockwave of his Spiritual Qi and the scorching heat of the flames surged toward Long Ting, who had launched the surprise attack from behind.
The young Martial-Mystic Cultivators of the Zhu Clan roared in unison, drawing their battle weapons and unleashing their Spiritual Qi.
The Long Dian, finally regaining his senses, stared at Long Ting with eyes widened in disbelief.
His gaze narrowed, his fingers curled into claws, and a Dragon Shadow that coiled around the heavens and earth materialized behind him, its power rivaling that of a living Emperor himself.
"Whoosh!"
Long Ting didn't even have a chance to launch a second attack. Before he could even retrieve his bone flute, he transformed into a blur, soaring through the air toward the left side of the plaza, where there were no Dragon Sect, Thundercloud Sect, or Zhu Clan Martial-Mystic Cultivators.
With a single leap, he cleared the plaza and shot straight toward the sea.
Lu Cangsheng roared coldly, "Long Dian, you Dragon Sect... don't let him escape!"
"Leave it to me."
Long Dian knew all too well the unpredictable consequences that Long Ting's escape would trigger.
Dead or alive, he had to be brought back.
So, he immediately summoned his battle intent Dragon Shadow and pursued Long Ting into the Bing Juze.
Lu Cangsheng, ever suspicious and cautious, wasn't satisfied. He signaled with his eyes, and seven or eight young Thundercloud Sect experts surged forward, transforming into a swarm of lightning-fast electric shuttles to chase after the two dragons.
Lu Cangsheng was about to soothe the severely wounded Zhu Huan when...
"Rustle!"
A gust of cold wind swept from behind him.
Countless circular yellow paper coins, carried by the wind, poured out from the first-floor pavilion's entrance.
As sharp as blades, the paper coins swarmed toward Lu Cangsheng. Martial-Mystic Cultivators nearby, even those who unleashed their Spiritual Qi, couldn't withstand the onslaught. They screamed in agony as several fell to the ground, instantly dead.
"I knew it couldn't just be Long Ting!"
Lu Cangsheng turned and struck out a palm.
Spiritual Qi surged like a tidal wave, shattering all the paper offerings into fine dust.
Heavy footsteps and boisterous laughter erupted from the first floor of the pavilion.
The ground trembled.
A two-meter-tall, bare-chested giant, seemingly cast entirely of bronze, charged out. The moment he burst through the gate, he bent his knees, exploding into a leap and throwing a ferocious punch at Lu Cangsheng.
"Boom!"
The first and palm collided.
Violent energy exploded outward, sending all the Martial-Mystic Cultivators present reeling backward.
Lu Cangsheng retreated three steps before planting his feet, his gaze sharp and unwavering throughout. He raised his right arm high above his head, his five fingers arranged in a peculiar formation: thumb and index finger pointing toward the sky, the other three arranged in a tiered pattern.
Instantly, thunder cracked in the clear sky.
Dazzling bolts of lightning crisscrossed the air, repeatedly flashing across the eaves and beams of the Bright Moon Seven Stars Pavilion.
Meanwhile, Ming Niansheng, sent flying backward by the clash of fist and palm, was enveloped in a cloud of dark, ghostly energy.
His two-meter-tall bronze body rapidly tore apart and expanded, reverting to his true form.
His body grew several times larger, sprouting two horns, a pair of wings, and a striking mane of crimson hair that stretched over ten feet long.
"Well played, Lu Cangsheng," he roared, "Now, let me properly test your Thunder Method!"
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Thirty-six pillars of lightning descended from the sky, forming a circular Thunderstrike Heavenly Prison that trapped Ming Niansheng's massive body within.
He looked up.
Lu Cangsheng, who had been standing on the ground, had somehow become enveloped in lightning and was now floating directly above his head. The battle intent of a Thunder God had condensed within the Thunderstrike Heavenly Prison, making even Ming Niansheng's colossal form seem dwarfed.
Strangely, despite being completely suppressed, a smile suddenly appeared in Ming Niansheng's eyes.
Seeing this, Lu Cangsheng felt a chill run down his spine. He realized he had fallen for the enemy's diversionary tactic and immediately began searching for Zhu Huan.
A piercingly loud bird cry, like a screeching peacock's call, echoed across the plaza.
A surge of powerful Spiritual Qi erupted.
"Boom!"
Zhu Huan, who was being escorted by a group of Zhu Clan experts as they prepared to retreat, was struck by a giant claw that materialized out of thin air. Already severely injured, he couldn't resist. He was sent flying, rolling across the ground, blood gushing from his mouth.
The full form of the giant claw materialized: a Six-Colored Peacock of battle intent, standing a hundred meters tall. It unleashed its Intent, suppressing the soul spirit will of the Zhu Clan's young Martial-Mystic Cultivators for a fleeting moment.
The hundred-meter height was an illusion, not the true height of the battle intent.
In that instant, the Six-Colored Peacock pinned Zhu Huan to the ground, its beak and claws tearing him to shreds.
The Zhu Clan Heir's scream sent a chill through the Martial-Mystic Cultivators in the pavilion, their hearts pounding in terror. It was like a public execution, arrogant and domineering to the extreme.
From start to finish, the Zhu Clan Martial-Mystic Cultivators never even caught sight of their enemy's true form.
Everything happened in a flash. Even though Zuoqiu Ting had rushed over at top speed, by the time he arrived, Zhu Huan was already dead beyond all hope, reduced to a mere skeleton.
"Yu Zi, since you're so eager to kill, you won't be leaving here today!"
Zuoqiu Ting wasn't concerned about Zhu Huan's death. What truly mattered was the Far Western Ashlands' true intentions. The more they wanted to achieve, the more determined he was to stop them.
"Whoosh!"
He scanned his surroundings, his senses heightened to their peak, then took a step forward.
Beneath his foot, an Eight Trigrams symbol materialized, spreading across dozens of yards. Countless ancient and mysterious Dao Scripts rose from the symbol, transforming into a dazzling Sea of Characters and Literary Texts that soared across the entire plaza.
This was a Dao Technique he had specifically cultivated for Yu Zi, supported by an Eight Trigrams Spiritual Artifact.
Zuoqiu Ting had fought Yu Zi before and knew that this demon was not only exceptionally powerful in cultivation but also possessed unparalleled stealth and agility among the younger generation.
Even if Zhu Huan hadn't been injured and had been targeted by Yu Zi's assassination, his chances of survival would have been slim.
"Zuoqiu Ting, our target today isn't you. There's no need to rush to your death."
The voice was vast and resonant, with a warm, magnetic quality.
Yu Zi's true form was forced to manifest by the Eight Trigrams seal and the Sea of Characters and Literary Texts.
His body was ethereal, indistinct.
After several swift leaps, he gracefully landed atop the Six-Colored Peacock formed from battle intent. His face was concealed by a liquid silver mask, and with the bearing of the world's most peerless hero, he gazed proudly toward the seventh floor of the Bright Moon Seven Stars Pavilion.
At that moment, a scream of agony echoed from the sea, drawing the attention of countless Martial-Mystic Cultivators on the pavilion.
....
Without hesitation, Li Weiyi drew the Yellow Dragon Sword hidden in his Boundary Pouch and slashed through the door.
To his surprise, his opponent's Spiritual Qi was incredibly potent, and their control over it was terrifyingly precise. The Spiritual Qi that had been spreading across the walls and ceiling instantly condensed into a giant palm print that slammed down toward him.
The enemy's true body remained behind, while the palm print struck first.
This blatant contempt stemmed from the opponent's conviction that their cultivation far surpassed Li Weiyi's.
Li Weiyi knew his only two advantages: the opponent's underestimation and their restraint due to wanting his complete human skin.
These advantages would only be effective with his first strike.
Therefore, this first strike was crucial.
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END OF CHAPTER
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