Chapter 8
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Chapter 8: A Chorus of Wails
"Ah~~~~! It hurts so much!"
"You bastard! You actually dared to hit me? Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is? Do you know who my grandfather is? You’re dead!"
"Damn you! Even my mother never hit me! I’ll make you pay for this!"
The scoundrels’ wails meant nothing to the Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldiers. Seeing their failure to comply with sect rules, all soldiers struck harder without hesitation.
This was part of the sect’s punishment protocol—any incorrect answer during beatings triggered increased force until compliance.
The first strike split the delicate skin of every family disciple. The second, heavier blow nearly cracked their spines.
The brats finally cracked, switching to desperate pleas: "I was wrong! I confess! Spare me!"
The threefold punishment existed to crush defiance. Submission meant immediate cessation.
After witnessing others’ reprieve, remaining family disciples followed suit. The punishment thus ended swiftly, none enduring more than five strikes.
Yet even these few strikes proved brutal. Their backs became bloody messes, tear-streaked faces painting scenes of utter misery.
Seeing their heirs battered, the family Higher-ups finally snapped.
They’d earlier stayed aloof, believing juniors could humble Fang Lie alone while they enjoyed his impending disgrace.
None anticipated Fang Lie’s iron resolve. Flogging over three thousand disciples at once? Each strike slapped the Eight-Hundred-Generation Families’ collective face. Unbearable!
"Fang Lie! This outrage!"
"Strike my son? You’ll pay!"
"Defy me too, whelp! Beat this elder if you dare!"
Amid roars, thousands of Golden Pool Masters and hundreds of Purple Palace Masters surged forward, hurling abuse:
"Your father was trash! You’re worse!"
"Does the Fang clan seek annihilation?"
"Insolence! A bastard brat overstepping!"
Tens of thousands of ordinary disciples shuddered for Fang Lie. Ordinary family disciples were Qi Sea level peers—manageable. But these elders? Crossing so many superiors meant exile from Mo Sect.
Any single elder here possessed cultivation sufficient to kill Fang Lie outright. Should any plot against him, he’d die unmourned.
All assumed Fang Lie would yield. In the cultivation world, bowing to stronger cultivators was expected, not shameful.
Faced with elder rebukes, submitting would’ve been natural.
Yet again, they underestimated him. Fang Lie’s unyielding nature defied reason—true to Old Fang’s family rules: "Smash through the South Wall, never retreat!"
*Crack!* The judge’s wooden hammer slammed. Fang Lie snarled: "Craving death? Oblige them! Soldiers—STRIKE!"
Golden light erupted in the Ancestral Hall. Thousands of Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldiers materialized, four seizing each cultivator as the hall expanded to accommodate fresh victims.
The methodical *thwack* of boards resumed.
"Smack!" The strike rang out sharply!
The flaming and watery great rods wielded by the Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldiers struck harder with higher cultivation. Though the experts’ bodies were tempered like iron, they proved no match for the rods.
Each blow split flesh and sent blood gushing like springs!
Agony surged through their bodies. Those with weaker mental fortitude wailed immediately.
Others endured through gritted teeth, faces ashen while muffling groans.
This strike didn’t just land on the experts—it shattered the arrogance of the family clans and struck fear into tens of thousands of watching cultivators!
In that moment, Fang Lie’s merciless actions revealed the steel in his heart!
None who reached Golden Pool or Purple Palace level were fools. Even the dimmest minds awoke under those blows, hastily pleading guilty rather than testing Fang Lie’s resolve.
They knew resisting meant losing. If he’d dare invoke sect rules for this beating, he’d surely escalate to three unyielding tortures next—meridian destruction, crippling strikes. After years of cultivation, who’d risk becoming cripples?
As the proverb went, "A gentleman’s vengeance can wait ten years." Survive today, scheme tomorrow!
As the scoundrels surrendered, the Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldiers halted their punishment.
Though their mouths yielded, hatred burned in their hearts. Every family disciple glared at Fang Lie with bone-deep loathing.
If glares could kill, he’d have been pulverized instantly!
Fang Lie knew their hatred, yet cared not. Since being framed and nearly executed, he’d understood—between him and these family clans, only enmity existed. Reconciliation was impossible.
Why then debase himself to please these wretches?
He’d realized protecting himself and his siblings required not submission, but ruthless lessons. Make them dread crossing him, and they’d retreat.
Having resolved this, Fang Lie acted decisively!
"Hmph!" He sneered. "So these are the Eight-Hundred-Generation Families? All bluster! Five strikes reduced you to weeping beggars—spineless worms! You call yourselves Mo Sect’s backbone? Disgraceful!"
The family disciples flushed crimson with rage, yet none dared retort under the three unyielding tortures’ threat. They seethed silently, heads bowed.
Fang Lie pressed on. "Useless trash! Strutting about like peacocks, yet all you do is bully weak disciples! Embezzle! Hoard! Hide crimes! Rape and pillage! You’ve twisted the noble Mo Sect into depravity! Look at yourselves—what filth you are!"
"Today I’ll beat you! Not just your backsides—your faces too! Who dares oppose me?" He roared at the cowering masses. "I ask again—Eight-Hundred-Generation Families, who still defies me?!"
"Who else?!" His shout echoed through the Ancestral Hall. "Any remaining defiance?!"
Met with silence, the families shrank like turtles into shells.
The hall fell deathly quiet.
Seeing no challengers, Fang Lie scoffed. "Cowards, every last one!"
He slammed the judge’s wooden hammer. "Guards! These vermin disrupted proceedings and insulted the Ancestor’s Token. Their sentence?"
A Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldier answered instantly. "By sect rules: rod punishment. Minimum ten strikes, maximum hundred."
"Then administer the maximum! One hundred strikes!" Fang Lie barked. "Strike hard!"
The family disciples had anticipated punishment, but not its severity. A hundred strikes with blood-drawing force would leave their backs meat pulp.
Even top-grade spirit pills would require months bedridden to restore them. Worse, the agony would break pampered nobles—some might perish from pain alone.
The Law Enforcement Heavenly Soldiers showed no mercy. Orders given, they swung ruthlessly.
Thus the hall became hell. Each rod strike sprayed blood, pain so severe victims wished they were dead.
All pretenses of nobility vanished. They howled like beasts, tears streaming, cries shaking the heavens.
Thousands being flogged simultaneously created an unimaginable spectacle. The watching common disciples stood thunderstruck, witnessing the mighty humbled.
