Fengyunlu

The crisp sound echoed through the silent air, and a bloody flower instantly blossomed on Bai Lang's face, his mouth twisted into a distorted shape. But Martial Saint Jiang He simply glanced at him casually, as if observing an insignificant matter. "This slap is for my Junior Brother Feng. From now on, I will use you to commemorate my Junior Brother Feng's hatred."

Before he finished speaking, Jiang He's figure had turned into several afterimages. He swung out with a palm, which was completely different from his previous holding back. This time, his palm was filled with murderous intent, and the force was so strong that even the surrounding airflow was firmly controlled by him. Bai Lang was unable to move and could only watch as the fatal palm went straight to his crown. It was going to kill him directly!

Panic washed over Bai Lang, his previous sense of shame long forgotten. Now, only terror filled his eyes. Though he desperately tried to move, his vital energy seemed frozen, completely immobilized. He had no idea what Jiang He had done, but he knew he was renowned for his martial arts skills. While he might appear effortless against his foes, once he struck, he crushed them.

In reality, Bai Lang was so flustered at this moment that he forgot the vast difference between himself and Jiang He. Jiang He's tactics weren't his usual style; he only easily crushed weaker opponents. While Bai Lang was considered a master, Jiang He rarely used Taoist techniques against his opponents, but that didn't mean he couldn't. Jiang He's abilities far surpassed Bai Lang's, and a single move would have him captivated.

Bang~~~~~~~~ There was no devastating disaster as imagined. After a dull crash, Bai Lang closed his eyes and waited for death, but suddenly he opened his eyes and found a figure blocking in front of him. The pressure around him also disappeared. It turned out that it was Zhuang Mo who took action.

"Thank you, Lord Yan!" The white wolf, having saved his life, quickly bowed to express his gratitude.

Zhuang Mo just smiled faintly: "Go."

After Bai Lang retreated, Zhuang Mo said to Jiang He, "Brother Jiang has always been chivalrous and righteous. I, Zhuang Mo, have long admired you. Since you are interested today, I would like to learn a few moves from you."

Martial Saint Jiang He smiled after hearing this, not caring that the white wolf had been rescued. He simply withdrew his palm and said, "Jiang Jun's reputation is something I admire, but today is not the day for a duel. You and I will go our separate ways. Although chivalry knows no right or wrong, there is no need to rush into action."

"So, Brother Jiang is unwilling to teach me?" Zhuang Mo said, waving his sleeves and taking back the energy he had just used, and all the turbulence of his true energy was also withdrawn.

Under his control, the magical weapon was imbued with the power of martial arts, ignoring everything around it. The Demon King's previous method had only restricted Jiang He himself, but he had not noticed the power of the magical weapon, so his eyes became serious.

But the Demon King is the Demon King after all. He saw through the trick and remembered that the Martial Saint Jiang He came to Leiming Mountain for rescue after all. So although he is making a big fuss now, he is actually making a feint to the east and attacking in the west. His real goal is still on Leiming Mountain.

Mo Wenjian, who had been silent on the side, also guessed this. He didn't care much from beginning to end, but when the golden dart came at him fiercely, he moved slightly.

Mo Wenjian held the Changli Sword upright in front of his chest. He then extended his left hand and formed a sword gesture. Two fingers gently scraped the blade from bottom to top, and the Changli Sword immediately emitted a dazzling light. Then, Mo Wenjian flashed to the right, and the Changli Sword slashed with it, instantly releasing invisible sword energy.

The sharpness seemed to be able to cut off everything, but Mo Wenjian did not fight back. Instead, he gathered several sword intentions to form a faint ball of light. The ball of light was the size of a person, and with a slight shake, it enveloped a person.

This person was Lei Xiao, the man who had previously secretly attacked Lei Gong, causing him to be hit by the divine needle that pierced his meridians and nearly led to his being tricked. Lei Xiao's eyes were solemn, but upon seeing himself surrounded by a faint aura, he suddenly appeared enlightened. He had clearly sensed the terrifying energy surrounding him. If it weren't for the light shield of sword intent protecting him, the energy would have torn him apart.

The next moment, three golden darts suddenly attacked. Although the Martial Saint Jiang He saw the protection of Mo Wen Sword in the dark, he did not believe that the Nine Heavens Divine Weapon could not break such a small ball of light.

Three golden darts flew at the same time, exploding like three thunderclaps. The ball of light surrounded by sword energy began to shake and ripple, but it just wouldn't break! The golden darts penetrated and bounced back, returning to their original stream of light and disappearing into the surroundings.

Lei Xiao breathed a sigh of relief. Though protected by Mo Wenjian within the ball of light, the murderous aura of the golden darts still made him tremble with fear. It felt as if everything around him had vanished, leaving only the approaching murderous intent. Even the air and time seemed to freeze. Fortunately, the ball of light had somehow managed to block all those destructive golden darts. Lei Xiao breathed a sigh of relief, and after recovering, he turned to look at Mo Wenjian and nodded gently, thanking him for his protection.

But Mo Wenjian seemed not to see him. He just stared at one place with a faint smile on his face. He said softly, "Xiao Jianghe, why don't you come out?"

A gust of wind blew, and following Mo Wenjian's gaze, a yellowish-brown figure appeared silently. At the same time, the Demon King waved his hand and withdrew the previous spell. The wind stopped and the clouds dispersed on Leiming Mountain, and the Martial Saint Jiang He also slowly walked over.

Look at Jiang He, dressed in a khaki robe and standing over nine feet tall, he looks incredibly majestic. His face is dignified, his eyes are full of power, and with his long, wispy beard and slightly curly hair, he looks invincible.

He walked slowly, each step carrying authority, and when he reached Mo Wenjian, his eyes were filled with surprise: "Who are you?"

"Haven't you guessed it?" Mo Wenjian answered softly. There was no hostility in his tone, but instead a hint of the cordiality of an old friend.

Upon hearing this, Martial Saint Jiang He involuntarily took a step back, looking Mo Wenjian up and down, and finally sighed for a long time: "Alas, I should have thought of this earlier. You carry the Changli Sword, and use the sword Gu Han to protect Lei Xiao. Apart from your junior uncle back then, who else in this world can do that? It's just..."

He had wanted to ask how Mo Wenjian had managed to escape death. Three hundred years earlier, the Jianyin Sect had been annihilated, leaving no one alive. How had he managed to avoid that disaster? How had he recovered his cultivation, even his meridians, his Zixuan Qi, and even his primordial spirit body, all restored to their former state, or even surpassed it. But the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't ask.

Although Martial Saint Jiang He was a bit dull, he could still see the essence of the situation. His master had clearly been letting him win on purpose, not because he was so concerned about Lei Xiao that he had lost his composure and failed to understand his master's intentions. If his master had truly been trapped in the sword formation and injured, he wouldn't have intervened, much less put himself in such a dilemma.

Regardless of what the master was thinking, he had clearly been letting things slide. Jiang He, despite arriving at Thunder Mountain, didn't immediately take action, likely because he had guessed what was going on. He was worried about the master being trapped in the sword formation, so he didn't engage the enemy. When the sword formation was broken, he attacked without even figuring out what was going on.

But as soon as Mo Wenjian made his move, Jiang He hid in the shadows and observed. He was startled at first sight, but only suspected, not immediately sure. It wasn't until Mo Wenjian called him that he suddenly remembered his junior uncle from back then. His heart was filled with excitement, his body trembling, and he was filled with disbelief: "Back then...back then, ah~back then I thought... Ugh!!"

He still hadn't finished his words. He didn't understand how Mo Wenjian had survived, but there must be something hidden behind what happened today. Regardless of why his master had let it go, it now seemed that his intervention had only ruined his master's plan.

Having said that, Jiang He was no ordinary man. Although he was delayed for a moment, his face revealed a firmness and stubbornness. "No matter what, you are now a member of the Poor Clan. We are destined to be enemies when we meet today. Besides, my Junior Brother Feng died because of the Poor Clan, and his only child was almost killed by you today. Add to that the chaos in the Thunderbolt Hall today, and there's nothing much to say. Come on!!"

Martial Saint Jiang He attacked again, his figure flickering slightly before vanishing without a trace. His previous attack had left his presence visible on either side, but this time, not a single trace of his aura was visible. Even the Demon King couldn't help but nod in admiration, clearly recognizing Jiang He's high level of cultivation, surpassing even his master, Luo Hongchen. While he might not be as skilled as his master, his desperation was no less impressive, even reaching a desperate point, perhaps even more formidable.

Mo Wenjian, standing beside him, said nothing. His eyes remained calm, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking. But when Jiang He disappeared, he followed suit, holding his sword to his chest and stretching out his hand to execute a sword gesture, just as before. But after the sword slashed through his body, the method he used was completely different.

Before, he was merely protecting. To save someone, he had to kill. Martial Saint Jiang He understood this. He knew Lei Xiao was crucial to the Thunderbolt Hall. He spoke of dealing with the Demon King, but deep down, he knew he might not be able to keep him. Mo Wenjian was equally dangerous to him. His identity was unknown, but he also felt he couldn't keep him. Since he couldn't keep him, he couldn't spare the Demon Hill he had taken in to protect him either. The best option was to keep Lei Xiao.

He wasn't from a humble background, but rather a defector from the Thunderbolt Hall. His cultivation, while high, made him an easy target for capture. Therefore, Jiang He's decision to take action was to capture Lei Xiao. Regardless of his past with Lei Gong, capturing him would likely force the Demon King and the others to return and rescue him. If they delayed their rescue, the Blue Cloud Emperor might arrive shortly afterwards, and none of the enemies who had come today would escape.

However, despite his well-thought-out plan, one thing he hadn't anticipated, and one he didn't dare to confirm, was Mo Wenjian's true identity. He hadn't expected his invincible divine weapon to be so easily blocked by a single sword intent. While there were some tricks involved—Mo Wenjian had clearly understood everything about him during their initial exchange of moves—that was merely an excuse. Ultimately, his skills were insufficient, far inferior to Mo Wenjian's; otherwise, he wouldn't have been so easily stopped.

But now was not the time to consider such matters. Martial Saint Jiang He made a serious move, risking all his cards. Not only was he caught in the undercurrent, but even his Qi lock was completely restrained. Mo Wenjian and the Demon King, two peerless masters, knew they couldn't afford to be careless in the face of Jiang He's current tactics. Despite his limited cultivation, his martial arts prowess meant he might suffer some setbacks.

However, Mo Wenjian was truly a celestial being. As the Demon King moved to protect A-Li and the others, he had already swung his longsword forward, a flash of cold light flashing across his chest as the longsword swung and thrust forward. This strike was silent, without a trace of aura, a simple thrust that shook the heavens and the earth.

The entire summit of Thundering Mountain instantly darkened, and the sun atop it dimmed as well, like a ball of light hanging in the sky, devoid of much brilliance, only a faint shadow proving its immobility. The next moment, the purple clouds in the sky seemed to freeze. As the sunlight faded, the countless purple divine thunders within the Red Refining seemed to lose their brilliance, dimming to the point of being almost invisible.

The next moment, the entire world began to darken. In less than half a breath, it was truly pitch black. At this point, no one could see their hand in front of their face. Even Saint-level beings, their primordial spirits compressed to the point where they could only see half an inch around them. Beyond that, on the entire summit of Thundering Mountain, only the Spring and Autumn Emperor Luo Hongchen, Lei Gong, Fairy Ji Yao, and the Immortal Master Lei Teng of the Thunderbolt Hall could manage anything. Beyond that, only the Demon King, A Li, and Zhuang Mo, from the humbler clan, remained.

The people around them were pitch dark, their eyes darting away. Even as they tried to pull back, trying to turn their backs to each other for protection, their bodies seemed frozen, their movements sluggish. However, this state of affairs didn't last long. Before most people could react, a ray of light flashed before their eyes.

To be precise, the light that sliced ​​through the darkness wasn't really light. In the pitch blackness, a ray of sword energy, transformed from a sharp edge, was unleashed by Mo Wenjian. It suddenly slashed through the darkness, as if creating the universe, slicing through illusions and shattering all ignorance. It felt like being inside a giant eggshell, being sliced ​​open by someone from outside. As the egg cracked, light streamed in.

As sword energy sliced ​​through the darkness, the figure of Martial Saint Jiang He emerged. His face was solemn, having not expected Mo Wenjian's strike to be so powerful. Jiang He roared, a tan-yellow light emanating from his body. His fists hurled themselves at Mo Wenjian like meteors, their winds creating sonic booms. Mo Wenjian remained calm, his Changli Sword twirling nimbly in his hand. Using the sword as a brush, he traced a series of mysterious paths through the air, neutralizing Jiang He's punches one by one.

At this moment, the Demon King also joined the fray, transforming into a gigantic demonic wolf and lunging at Jiang He. Jiang He dodged the wolf's attack with a sideways motion, simultaneously kicking it in the stomach. The wolf roared in pain, its fur instantly standing on end, emitting a powerful demonic aura.

For a moment, the atmosphere on the top of Thunder Mountain shifted dramatically as the battle between the three men reached a fever pitch. The surrounding crowd, whether they were disciples of the Thunderbolt Hall or masters from humbler backgrounds, were shocked by the intense battle. They stopped to watch, daring not to breathe, fearing to miss this spectacular duel between peerless masters.