King of Hundred Victories Saber

Her heart was a mixture of emotions, a tangled mess of various feelings intertwined.

Her rational mind told her that Shi Feiyang truly cared for her and was doing everything in his power to protect her; yet her inner desire to fight alongside him and share life and death was like resilient wild grass growing steadfastly in the crevices of rocks in spring, defying raging winds and storms, difficult to easily dissipate.

She looked at Shi Feiyang, her gaze showing understanding for him, an understanding like the gentle, warm breeze in spring that softly caresses the heart, bringing a thread of comfort; yet also a sense of reluctance to part with him, a reluctance like the cold, heavy frost of winter, weighing heavily on the heart, bringing endless melancholy; and a hint of stubbornness, a stubbornness like a rock that stands unyielding after enduring the test of time, silently voicing the unwavering persistence deep in her heart.

However, Xie Wen carried Shi Xiong on his back, took the Celestial Silkworm Silk Net, and helplessly led Guo Xiangyu away. Guo Xiangyu’s gaze remained fixed on Shi Feiyang until her figure disappeared outside the tent, her eyes filled with deep affection and longing, etching that moment deeply into her heart.

Outside the tent, the cold wind roared like a furious beast, bringing endless anger and strength, sweeping through with a howl, making the tent buzz noisily. The sound was like the prelude to an impending storm, foretelling a thrilling battle for life and death about to unfold. Inside the tent, Shi Feiyang watched in the direction where Guo Xiangyu had left, his heart a mix of feelings.

Without a burden, he slowly lay down to sleep, trying to gather strength.

Yet Guo Xiangyu’s tearful eyes lingered in his mind, impossible to shake off.

The night was like a dark cloth soaked completely with resentment, pressing down heavily, shrouding the secluded valley hidden deep in the mountains impenetrably.

Around the valley, cliffs stood like giants abruptly rising from deep within the earth, towering magnificently straight into the clouds.

These cliffs, with their majestic and icy bodies, formed a natural and indestructible barrier, enclosing everything within the valley tightly, making it resemble a sinister cage isolated from the world, forgotten in a dark corner.

Within the base in the valley, the light was weak and flickering, like a candle about to be extinguished in the wind, like ghostly lights drifting in a graveyard, emitting eerie glimmers that are unpredictable.

Under the dim and hazy light, shadows moved back and forth like phantoms, resembling a dance of demons, chilling the spine.

Meanwhile, from deep within the base came the mysterious and eerie chanting of the Western Holy Sect.

That sound was deep and hoarse, as if from the Nine Nether Hell, enveloped in endless gloom and terror, resonating hauntingly in the calm night, each sound like a heavy hammer, fiercely striking at the heart, amplifying the eerie fright.

At this moment, Beggar Gang Leader Zhong Renwang, accompanied by Beggar Gang Elders Ding Hong, Wu Zhou, Wu Shi, and Wu Gun, swaggered into this strange place. Zhong Renwang’s stature was tall, yet due to his greed and scheming, his back seemed bent under an invisible weight, appearing somewhat hunched.

His eyes flickered uncertainly, darting around like a cunning fox moving stealthily in the dark, constantly plotting how to extract the greatest benefit from this situation. ”Hmph, this Western Holy Sect indeed has a mysterious vibe. Our coming to seek alliance here will surely let us hold onto this big tree tightly, and in the future, our Beggar Gang can also be formidable in Jianghu!”

He contemplated silently while walking with steps seemingly steady but actually hastily concealed, heading deeper into the Holy Sect, resembling a greedy thief about to enter a treasure cavern, eager to unearth riches within.

Divine Sword Manor Master, Jianghu Eunuch Dugu yan, clad in a black robe, resembling a ghost in the dark night, expressionless, like a statue sealed by time, devoid of any emotion. In his hand, he tightly gripped the treasure sword he always carried, the sword’s blade trembling slightly, as if sensing the impending bloodshed, eager to taste blood. Divine Sword Manor Young Manor Master Xie Zhichuan followed closely behind, youthful and spirited, with a hint of arrogance and impatience in his steps.

”Poisonous Hand Nuwa” Li Wuduo approached slowly with steps light yet exuding a dangerous aura.

Her figure was graceful, like willow catkins dancing in the spring breeze, her face beautiful, akin to a blooming, enchanting flower, yet her eyes exuded a cold, icy chill, like millennium-old ice, sending shivers down one’s spine.

She was playing with a jade-green flute in her hand.

The flute appeared ordinary, but as it twirled lightly in her hand, it was like a venomous snake ready to strike at any moment, concealing a deadly poison, her lethal weapon that kills invisibly; each turn seemed to silently declare her danger and ruthlessness.

And after some time of healing, the Blood Venerable had already forgotten his scars and pain.

His figure was burly, like a towering small mountain, his face covered with slabs of muscle, emitting a strong stench of blood, like a demon crawling out of Hell, covered in fresh blood.

He strode forward with big steps, each one stamping heavily on the ground, making a dull thud, muttering to himself, ”Hmph, that Shi Feiyang, this time I will surely cut him down under my sword, to avenge past humiliation!”

The voice was filled with hatred and resentment; only by tearing Shi Feiyang into pieces could he relieve the hatred in his heart.

A group of martial arts masters, shamelessly came to seek refuge with the Western Holy Sect, just to get a share in the coming fierce battle like greedy vultures. The crowd came before the Sect Leader Qi Yin, all bowing, their posture like a group of loyal slaves, bowing to the master.

Zhong Renwang’s face was full of smiles, which carried a hint of obsequiousness and baseness, like a tail-wagging, pitiful lap dog.

He stepped forward, clasping his fists, an action that seemed respectful but was full of cunning, saying: ”The Sect Leader is wise and powerful, famed in both literature and martial arts, dominating the Jianghu, truly a model for us martial arts practitioners. Now that Shi Feiyang fool, not knowing life from death, dares to oppose the Holy Sect, really overestimating himself. According to my knowledge, Shi Feiyang holds two extraordinary treasures, the Xu Fu Immortal Pill and the Holy Heart Technique. This Xu Fu Immortal Pill is said to be an ancient miracle drug that can prolong life and greatly enhance power; the Holy Heart Technique is a rare martial arts manual, containing boundless mysteries. If the Sect Leader could gain these two treasures, your power would greatly increase, dominating the martial arts world, invincible in the future, uniting the Jianghu, and respected by all for ages to come!”

As he spoke, he was secretly observing Qi Yin’s expression, his eyes full of greed and anticipation, as if he already saw himself soaring to great heights with Qi Yin, basking in wealth and honor.

Qi Yin sat high on the dark throne of the Sect Leader, that throne seemed to be a fierce beast grown from darkness, exuding a chilling aura. He wore a pure black robe, the fabric flowing like ink, mysterious and deep.

On the robe were embroidered golden mysterious symbols, those symbols seemed to have life, flickering with eerie light in the dim lamp light, whispering ancient and evil spells, as if proclaiming the unparalleled majesty of the Holy Sect.

His expression was cold, like millennium-old ice, devoid of any warmth. His eyes were like the sharpest stars in a winter night, deep and cold. Hearing Zhong Renwang’s words, Qi Yin slightly raised his eyebrows, an action like a proud eagle glancing dismissively at ants, the corner of his mouth lifted in an indiscernible cold smile, like a gust of cold wind in winter, sending chills down one’s spine.

He opened his mouth slowly, his voice low and majestic, like a devil’s voice from the Nine Nether Hell, reverberating in this eerie stronghold, each word striking heavily on everyone’s heart: ”Oh? So this Shi Feiyang possesses such treasures. Hmph, since so, he will not escape today. Since you came to join my Holy Sect, then listen to my orders. If you achieve great merits in this battle, I will not treat you badly. But if anyone dares to show any negligence, or harbors ill intentions, don’t blame me for being ruthless, leaving you with no place for burial!”

In his words, there was both disdain for the enemy and intimidation of subordinates, sending shivers down one’s spine.

Everyone knelt, like pious yet fearful believers, saying in unison: ”We obey the Sect Leader’s orders! The Sect Leader is wise and powerful, famed in both literature and martial arts, uniting the Jianghu, for ages to come!”

Their voices were tidy and loud, yet in this eerie atmosphere, carried a trace of trembling and fear.