Chapter Thirty-Four: The Extermination of Nine Generations

The ancient sages of Spring and Autumn once said: “No matter how many skills one possesses, each can be countered; no matter how boundless one’s powers, who dares claim invincibility? All things under heaven are born to coexist and restrain one another; yin and yang revolve, without beginning or end.”

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He was a man of about thirty, with an unremarkable appearance—so ordinary that he would blend unnoticed into any crowd. Moments before, he had been mingled among the servants of the Liu household, shrinking into the background, and no one had sensed anything amiss. Even Yang Fan had failed to notice him.

Yet as soon as he struck, the dormant vitality within him surged like a raging sea, like a volcano’s eruption—more powerful and terrifying than Liu Kaizong in his demonic transformation. He was the strongest opponent Yang Fan had ever encountered. None came close.

Without hesitation, Yang Fan attacked. Under the weight of his own intimidation, he charged at the foe.

“Swift Step!”

A myriad of thoughts flashed through Yang Fan’s mind. He understood that against such an adversary, only a sudden, unexpected kill could succeed. Otherwise, he stood no chance. Just as now!

The youth faltered for the briefest moment, his eyes clouded with confusion, his face twisted with a grimace. Yang Fan was already upon him, his Black Cloud Blade sweeping in a deadly arc toward the man’s neck.

You wish to kill me, so I will kill you first.

There was no room for reason or hesitation.

To Yang Fan’s surprise, the man managed to break free of his intimidation. In that hair’s breadth, his sword flashed up and blocked the descending blade.

Clang—

Sparks shot out.

The man retreated a step, but immediately counterattacked. Still dulled by the lingering intimidation, he forced Yang Fan back with raw strength.

“Who are you?” Yang Fan exclaimed in shock, slashing six more times in rapid succession. The stranger parried each blow with ease, almost wounding Yang Fan in the process.

Even under intimidation, Yang Fan was no match.

This was trouble.

The man didn’t answer, only regarded Yang Fan with wary suspicion. He couldn’t tell if the sudden mental assault he’d suffered had come from Yang Fan. If so, Yang Fan was far more formidable than he had imagined. If not, what else could explain its sudden appearance? It was all too strange.

No matter what—since he had already acted, he would finish it with death.

Seemingly adapting to the oppressive force, the man’s sword light fell like a waterfall, pushing Yang Fan to the brink at every turn. His strength was overwhelming, his sword swift and flawless. Yang Fan was utterly outmatched.

Driven back, Yang Fan saw the enemy close in once more. He withdrew his “Intimidation” ability and summoned the power of the “Earth Surge.” A shallow pit opened where the man’s foot landed, causing him to stumble.

“This is my chance!” Yang Fan’s eyes narrowed, and his power flared again.

“Intimidation!”

The stumbling foe could have steadied himself, but at that instant, his mind faltered, and he plunged headlong to the ground.

“Gale Slash!”

Yang Fan’s blade swept down, cold and vicious as a storm. In that split second, the man managed to lunge forward, letting the Black Cloud Blade tear through his shoulder instead of taking his head. Blood instantly soaked his clothing. Though he’d evaded the killing blow, the wound was not fatal.

“Trouble!” Yang Fan’s heart pounded. He turned and fled, activating Swift Step again.

Twice now he had used intimidation; surely his opponent realized it was Yang Fan’s doing. Any further tricks would be difficult. Against such a foe, unless at a critical moment, “Earth Surge” would be of little use.

Besides, with so much commotion, the patrol and city guard would soon be drawn here. Yang Fan dared not linger.

“Swift Step!”

He darted away, vaulting over the courtyard wall, and vanished into the night.

The man did not pursue at once. Instead, he examined the small pit that had nearly tripped him up. He was certain it hadn’t been there a moment before—he was always vigilant, even in the heat of battle.

“This fellow is dangerous,” the man muttered, glancing at the dazed Liu retainers, then at the underground chamber. He set off after Yang Fan.

He was in no way slow.

Crossing three streets in quick succession, Yang Fan was about to pause for breath when he sensed the man hot on his heels.

“Will this never end?” Yang Fan cursed, fleeing once more.

Yet no matter how he tried, even employing Swift Step, the man was just as fast. Yang Fan leapt onto a rooftop, surveying his surroundings despite the darkness. In an instant, he calculated the optimal escape route. Then, with a sudden inspiration, he threw back his head and shouted to the night:

“County Constable Liu Kaizong—abductor of children, worshipper of evil gods, transformed into a monster, guilty of every crime under heaven—has been struck down by divine retribution!”

His thunderous voice echoed in all directions, shattering the dreams of countless sleepers.

Yang Fan pressed on.

Elsewhere, Han Jinchang, hearing the commotion at the Liu estate, rushed over. He spotted the city guard approaching the Liu residence just as the shout rang out.

“Worshipping evil gods?” Han Jinchang’s eyes sharpened. He barked orders to his men: “Xiao Wang, return to the Skywatch Tower and summon reinforcements—surround the Liu residence! Xiao Deng, go to the county office and order the magistrate to place the whole city on alert.”

“Captain Ma!” After issuing his commands, he intercepted the city guard, holding up a badge. He addressed the senior officer at the front: “This concerns demons and evil magic. By imperial decree, the Skywatch Tower has authority over all internal defense. The city guard must obey unconditionally. Defiance means extermination of nine generations. Captain Ma, follow my orders.”

He glared at the officer, ready to strike him down if he refused.

“I obey!” Captain Ma hesitated only a moment before bowing.

“Surround the Liu estate. No one enters or leaves without my command. Any violators are to be executed on the spot.” Han Jinchang’s voice was icy as he swept his gaze over the soldiers. “Anyone who dares defy orders—extermination of nine generations. Captain Ma, please proceed!”

“Yes, sir!”

Captain Ma clenched his fist and swiftly led his troops to encircle the Liu estate.

Meanwhile, the man pursuing Yang Fan was taken aback, his pupils narrowing. “Liu Kaizong worshipped evil gods? How could we not know?” After a brief hesitation, realizing he’d lost the chance to investigate, he continued after Yang Fan.

No one knew the truth of the matter better than this man.

Yang Fan darted through alleys, concealing his presence, but could never shake his pursuer.

And the distance was closing.

Sensing the unrest in the city, Yang Fan had no choice but to flee beyond the walls, heading north. Skirting Nanshan Town, he paused before the looming mountains, wiping sweat from his brow with a flurry of crystal droplets.

Panting, he realized he was exhausted.

“How should I address you?” Seeing his pursuer had stopped as well, Yang Fan relaxed slightly and clasped his hands in greeting.

He noticed the man’s wound had already stopped bleeding, with no sign of bandaging—he must have stemmed the blood with sheer muscle control.

Impressive.

The man said nothing, eyes wary as they scanned their surroundings.

“We’ve come this far—surely it’s a matter of life and death between us. Is there anything left to hide?” Yang Fan chuckled. “My name is Yang Fan. Brother, is it so hard to give your name? Whether you die or I do, let’s at least know whom we face. Let’s exchange names before we fight to the finish. In this vast night and lonely world, our fates cross in mortal combat—such is destiny. Destined, though we are enemies, we need not be foes. Perhaps we could be friends.”

“Yang Fan? You look young. How old are you, how are you so strong?” The man finally spoke, after a moment’s hesitation. “My name is Xiang Yangkai.”

“So it’s Brother Xiang. You mean you don’t know who I am?” Yang Fan was genuinely surprised.

“I only arrived at the Liu estate today,” Xiang Yangkai replied, his tone low, offering no further explanation.

“Just arrived, and yet you attacked me at Liu’s household, where no one seemed to know you. Clearly, you’re only connected to Liu Kaizong. When you saw me come out, and with Liu Kaizong hidden in the underground chamber, you tried to kill me?” Yang Fan’s eyes narrowed.

“Something like that,” Xiang Yangkai admitted. “Why did you accuse Liu Kaizong of worshipping demons? He’s a county constable, wields great power, has a bright future—he has no reason to turn to evil gods. Is this a frame-up?”

“That’s not important right now,” Yang Fan waved a hand. “Let me ask you—do you know a method to conceal your energy, making your vitality impossible to detect?”

Xiang Yangkai nodded. “It’s a secret technique—very difficult to master, but effective. The only flaw is that once you act, your vitality surges and can’t be concealed again.”

“I see,” Yang Fan thought, suddenly wary.

He had always trusted his “Earth Sense” ability, never missing a beat. But at the Liu estate, he’d failed twice: first, failing to notice the anomaly in the underground chamber; second, missing Xiang Yangkai’s presence entirely. He remembered sensing an observer when fighting Liu Kaizong—most likely Xiang Yangkai. But since he’d only been searching for cultivators above the ninth rank, he’d overlooked others; otherwise, he might have found him.

“When I was hiding in the city, I thought my concealment was flawless. How did you track me down again and again?” Yang Fan voiced his lingering doubt.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Xiang Yangkai replied impatiently.

“Oh, right. I’m fifteen. I have some talent in martial arts, and with hard work, I became this strong. It’s not that difficult,” Yang Fan said with feigned nonchalance.

“Fifteen? Not difficult?” Xiang Yangkai’s voice rose in disbelief.

“Mm,” Yang Fan replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “But tell me, how did you track me so easily when I was hiding in the city?”

“That’s basic knowledge for any martial artist,” Xiang Yangkai answered, his tone softening. “You leave traces wherever you go, especially running at full speed—there are footprints. Most importantly, the scent of blood on you is overwhelming.”

“So I’m just too young,” Yang Fan realized.

“Being young isn’t your fault,” Xiang Yangkai nodded. “But tell me—why did you say he worshipped demons? What really happened? Now’s the time to talk.”

He gripped his sword, stepping slightly forward, muscles taut.