Chapter Thirty-One: A Frenzied Struggle

Chapter Thirty-One: The Frenzied Struggle

Tension in the air grew dangerously sharp, as if swords were drawn and ready to clash. None among the gathered masters dared to make the first move. Time seemed frozen; with the lure of the Tianshu Grotto halfway up the mountain, everyone could feel their own heartbeat racing and breath growing rapid.

“Hmph—a bunch of cowards! Watch how your elder, Old Yellow-Brow, will do it!” Suddenly, from the midst of the crowd, a figure leapt forth. At that booming shout, all were startled.

A flash darted from among the throng. When the others looked closely, it turned out to be a white-haired old man, with long yellow eyebrows drooping to his cheekbones, a ruddy face, and a great cloak that hid his figure from view.

“Ah! Everyone, attack together—it’s the Old Demon Huang!” Someone in the crowd let out a shout, and chaos erupted. Weapons were drawn, and all rushed to assault Old Yellow-Brow. The air filled with the gleam of blades and swords, axes, hooks, forks, every weapon imaginable. Some, in their excitement, even hurled away their personal sidearms, as if they bore some deep-seated grudge against Old Yellow-Brow.

“Hmph—mere fireflies before a torch!” With a cold snort, Old Yellow-Brow swept his sleeve, sending a gust of yellow energy surging toward the horde.

“Ah! It itches! I give up on the secret manual—Old Ancestor, please, grant me the antidote!” In an instant, dozens of martial artists near him collapsed in agony, clawing desperately at their own bodies until blood streamed and their skin was flayed.

“Everyone, attack together! Even if Old Demon Huang’s poisons are fierce, he can’t withstand us all!” Another voice rose from the crowd, its owner perhaps another of Old Yellow-Brow’s enemies.

Old Yellow-Brow’s expression shifted. Though he was a master at the initial stage of marrow refinement and looked down on any single opponent present, before him now stood tens of thousands. If this nameless voice truly incited a riot, death would be his only fate.

“My fellow heroes, I mean no disrespect. If we all want the Tianshu, surely we can’t just stand here at the foot of the mountain until dusk. Forgive me!” With that, Old Yellow-Brow turned and began scrambling up the mountainside. All were taken aback by his words—an evil man, perhaps, but not without sense.

“Charge! We can’t let Old Demon Huang reach the top first!” That cry was the spark that set the crowd ablaze.

All were masters of martial arts. Chaos erupted as hundreds, then thousands, surged up the mountain. Those who had planned to take the winding path abandoned it, for though it was broad, it was far too long. None among these experts wished to be beaten to the halfway mark.

They climbed and fought as they went. Stones clattered down, crushing those below until blood ran and skulls burst. Screams echoed without end.

One man, slipping as he climbed, found his foot caught by another’s head below. “Thank you!” he exclaimed—until, glancing down, he saw his nemesis. “Zhang Cheng, you bastard, get off!” With a vicious stomp, he sent the other tumbling to his doom.

Wu Hong watched as bodies fell, dashed to pulp upon the rocks, and felt a pang of pity. He hesitated no longer and began his own ascent.

Suddenly, a burly man beside him swung a blade at him. Wu Hong dodged quickly, glaring. “Why are you attacking me?”

“Hmph! Do I need a reason?” The man, seeing his first strike fail, swung again.

Wu Hong’s anger flared. He didn’t even know this brute, yet the man attacked him without provocation. Channeling his power into his right hand, Wu Hong struck back with a thunderous shout. The burly man, shocked to discover his opponent was also a blood-refining master, hastily raised his blade to defend.

The crash that followed was deafening. The man felt a wave of heat from Wu Hong’s palm, and his blade shattered under the force. A burning pain seared his chest, smoke rose from his clothes, and before he could cry out, he plummeted from the cliff.

With a wet thud, the man struck the ground below, felled by Wu Hong’s newly practiced Vajra Palm of the Great Sun Tathagata. His limbs convulsed, face twisted in agony, and fire blazed from his hollow eye sockets. In moments, he shriveled to nothing but skin.

That single blow from Wu Hong stunned those nearby, who quickly put a safe distance between themselves and him.

Wu Hong lacked any lightness skill, so he climbed far more slowly than most. Stones rained down onto his head, and those he could not dodge battered his body, though he felt little pain.

Thousands raced, fought, and climbed, the scene a bloody frenzy. Again and again, bodies fell past Wu Hong, shattered beyond recognition. The lure of the Tianshu Grotto’s innate martial arts exerted a pull more powerful than any fear.

Just then, several figures soared up from the foot of the cliff. The sheer precipice offered them no impediment whatsoever. When they lacked a foothold in midair, they stepped on the heads of others, prompting fresh screams.

“Heavens! Who are they? The Invincible East! The Beggar Clan Chief! The Sacred Maiden of the Jade Maiden Sect!” Some veteran martial artist cried out, recognizing the new arrivals. Even as he spoke, the figures flashed upward, reaching the midway point in the blink of an eye.

Wu Hong was astonished. Their skills were supernatural, nearly indistinguishable from flight—their power was truly terrifying.

At last, the survivors reached the plateau before the Tianshu Grotto. Yet none dared move rashly. Before them, several figures stood apart from the crowd.

There was a tall, slender youth in a blue robe, his long hair wrapped in felt. An elderly hunchback leaned on a staff, coughing fitfully. A masked figure in tattered clothes, hair tied in a wild knot. And a masked woman, petite and scantily clad, her face hidden by a white veil. All knew her as the newly risen Sacred Maiden of the Jade Maiden Sect, rumored to have reached the pinnacle of the post-natal stage.

These few stood before the cave, gazing at the swirling, iridescent light at its mouth, faces grave and wary. Old Yellow-Brow, first to the summit, now watched from behind them, a sinister glint in his eye as his hand snaked into his sleeve.

“Die! The Tianshu is mine alone—who cares who you are?” With a flick of his sleeve, a cloud of yellow powder swept toward the others, driven by his inner energy.

“Courting death!” The ragged, masked man responded at once. With a single hand, he conjured a golden dragon of energy, which surged forth with a thunderous roar, sending rocks flying.

With a roar, the dragon swept through the yellow mist toward Old Yellow-Brow.

“Dragon Seizing Hand!” Old Yellow-Brow cried in terror, but too late. The golden dragon instantly wrapped him tight. Struggle as he might, he could not break free.

Bound by the dragon’s energy, Old Yellow-Brow was flung toward the purple radiance beside the cave mouth.

“Li Haoyang, I’ll haunt you even in death—!” Before he could finish, his body touched the colored mist and was instantly dissolved, vanishing without a trace—not even bones left behind. A master at the initial stage of marrow refinement, gone in an instant.

The crowd gasped in horror. No wonder these few unmatched masters dared not step inside the cave.

Each of the heroes frowned.

The tall, delicate-featured youth suddenly flicked several embroidery needles, sheathed in purple energy, into the colored mist.

Astonishingly, the energy-wrapped needles were unharmed by the colored mist.

Dozens of needles danced in the air as if guided by invisible threads, leaving the onlookers secretly amazed.

“The one with the embroidery needles—could that be the legendary Invincible East?” someone whispered.

Seeing his needles survive, the tall man gathered energy around himself and cautiously advanced step by step toward the cave, the crowd holding its breath.

Wu Hong stared at the youth, feeling he had seen him somewhere before. The man bore a pair of thin mustaches, yet his face was remarkably youthful, and his skills fearsome. Wu Hong shook his head. The Invincible East had dominated the martial world for decades, yet looked so young—he must be nearly fifty by now. How could Wu Hong know him?

The Invincible East’s figure suddenly accelerated, his body wreathed in purple-red energy, and he vanished into the blackness of the cave. The other masters, too, wrapped themselves in protective energy and leapt inside.

Aside from these few, several shadowy figures from the crowd, all sheathed in powerful energy, also charged into the cave.

Now the rest were at an impasse. The colored radiance at the cave entrance had just destroyed Old Yellow-Brow in an instant—a master at the marrow-refining stage. Though more such masters stood in the crowd, none dared risk entry as the others had done.

Wu Hong watched for a long time, but no one else was willing to step forward. At last, he moved to the front, gazing into the pitch-black cave.

“Who’s this kid—does he think he’s the Invincible East, a master of the post-natal pinnacle?” someone muttered behind him.

With a swift motion, Wu Hong drew his weapons—a hammer and a dagger—his body wreathed in golden energy, radiating a sacred light. In a bound, he leapt into the darkness.

He instantly felt the colored, unknown energy pressing in from all sides. Yet it was not as terrible as he had imagined.

Among the crowd, Wu Songran and Wang Liang recognized the figure who had drawn a hammer and dagger. Their faces changed dramatically as they shouted, “Wu Hong! You beast, don’t run!”

Without hesitating to consider whether they could withstand the unknown energies, Wu Songran, Wang Liang, and several other young men channeled all their power into their defenses and hurled themselves into the black cave.

Pandemonium broke out behind them.

“What? That young man is Wu Hong! No! Even if it kills me, I’ll see him dead!” In recent days, Wang Liang and his companions had masqueraded as Wu Hong, committing countless atrocities and making him numerous enemies.

Now, hearing that the youth who had vanished into the cave was Wu Hong, their fear of the colored radiance was swept away by overwhelming hatred.

In an instant, dozens more rushed in, including a portly man gnashing his teeth—none other than one of the victims, Master Li of Yunluo City.