Chapter 325
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Chapter 325: Iron Fist Ruthlessness
Facing the Qingming Demon Mirror and the claw shrouded in demonic energy, Murong Wuqing showed no trace of surprise. He merely lifted his left hand and pressed upward, freezing the enormous wolf claw mid-air.
“The Demon Race supernatural power is wasted in your hands.”
Murong Wuqing let out a cold snort, appearing disinterested in further exchanges with Mei Yansheng. His right fist slowly swung toward the man.
No dazzling energy waves, no explosive force—just a simple, unhurried punch.
Though seemingly harmless, Mei Yansheng’s expression turned grave. A flicker of terror flashed in his eyes as he retracted the wolf claw and scrambled backward.
But he’d forgotten the Judgment Platform’s restrictions, fueled by vast spirit stones. Escape wasn’t so simple.
Mei Yansheng slammed into the invisible barrier. Arms flailing into blurs, he unleashed torrents of true qi from within him, hurling magical treasures like worthless trash to shield his chest.
The pressure from Murong Wuqing’s punch was so overwhelming that even a Golden Core stage expert like Mei Yansheng trembled in fear.
*Boom!* The iron fist, deceptively slow, materialized before Mei Yansheng’s chest in an instant.
Still no energy waves or brilliance—only the treasures and true qi defenses shattering into fragments.
The fist pressed onward, lightly brushing Mei Yansheng’s chest.
Mei Yansheng hurtled backward. The Judgment Platform’s restrictions failed to stop him. He smashed into a mountain a hundred zhang away, carving a gaping crater.
The crowd stood dumbstruck. A Golden Core stage expert, seemingly invincible, had been sent flying by a single punch—his life and death uncertain.
How could such a casual strike harbor such devastating power?
Du Chuntian stared at Murong Wuqing, face ashen. His greatest asset—Mei Yansheng—had collapsed. He’d conspired with Jin Kingdom’s royals, burning spirit stones to teleport an army to the Heavenly Sword Sect’s gates. If Mei Yansheng intimidated the sect, Du Chuntian planned to extort concessions.
Yet neither the Heavenly Sword Sect’s Supreme Elder nor its Sect Leader had lifted a finger. Murong Wuqing—a disciple under thirty, hailed as the sect’s greatest genius in millennia—had crushed his plans as easily as swatting dust.
Ye Yun gaped. He’d anticipated Murong Wuqing’s victory but not this effortless dominance.
“This boy’s terrifying. If he survives, he’ll reach the Nascent Soul stage swiftly,” the Ancestor of the Sword Path muttered, awed. A Foundation Establishment stage cultivator lightly fending off a Golden Core expert defied reason.
“Murong Wuqing is the Heavenly Sword Sect’s most gifted disciple in a thousand years,” Ye Yun remarked inwardly.
“Five thousand years,” the Ancestor corrected. “Even you can’t match him.”
“But at the Qi Refining stage, I already challenge Foundation Establishment stage Fourth and Fifth Level foes. Isn’t that talent?” Ye Yun argued.
The Ancestor snorted. “At your stage, I slaughtered early Foundation Establishment cultivators. You’re nothing special.”
Ye Yun blinked. “You’re bragging! Your memory’s faulty.”
“Once I reclaim my lost souls, you’ll witness true Sword Path mastery,” the Ancestor retorted.
Ye Yun turned away, watching the bloodied figure crawl from the mountain’s wreckage. A Golden Core expert reduced to this—unthinkable.
Murong Wuqing stood coldly on the Judgment Platform, his gaze piercing Du Chuntian.
“Is this your only move, Leader Du? Where’s the army? Shall I demonstrate the Heavenly Sword Sect’s true strength?”
Du Chuntian forced a shaky smile. “Brother Wuqing misunderstands! The princes and I merely came to investigate rumors of Demon Race Bloodline.”
“Oh? Mere spectators?” Yan Changchun’s voice cut in.
“Precisely!” Du Chuntian mopped his brow.
“Then why bring a Golden Core expert?” Yan Changchun pressed.
“Mr. Mei… we met by chance! He came to observe after settling affairs—pure coincidence!”
Yan Changchun laughed. “Like your ‘chance’ meetings with Elder Yin and Sect Master Sun?”
“Yes! All coincidences!” Du Chuntian’s flattery dripped with panic.
“Then rest here tonight,” Yan Changchun offered.
“N-no! Clan duties demand my return,” Du Chuntian stammered.
Duan Yunsha stepped forward. “The army outside is a myth! We merely wished to admire the sect’s majesty. Jin Kingdom thrives under your protection!”
“Do you three scorn our hospitality?” Ye Yun interjected.
“Ye Yun, mind your tongue!” Yan Changchun chided, though his eyes sparkled.
“My apologies, Leader Du. Youthful bluntness—but truly, no face to spare?” Ye Yun mock-bowed.
The trio’s smiles stiffened, faces twitching with suppressed fury.
“Such impudent youth!”
A frail yet omnipresent voice echoed, as if rising from earth and sky alike.
