Chapter 83: Slicing Open the Abdomen to Retrieve the Core, an Invitation to Death (Part Four)

A young man, appearing somewhat frail, was dressed in a robe the color of moonlight, though his right sleeve was already soaked through with blood. His face bore a radiant smile, filling him with a sense of vibrant life. A hundred paces away stood a woman in black, expressionless and still.

“Is there any other friend who wishes to instruct me?” Wu Yue called out. Not a soul dared answer. The world outside the city was silent, as though it held only him and no other.

Hou Baiyu slammed his window shut, frowning deeply. He had not left Black Curtain City; the prosperity here was too precious for most to abandon and wander. Though he kept to himself, he most feared a chance encounter with Wu Yue. Yet, with wine and meat at hand, his days were merry enough.

He was also waiting for men from Dark Cloud Stronghold. Wu Yue’s words always left him doubting—he suspected Wu Yue was deceiving him, but could not be sure. Once the men from Dark Cloud arrived and seized Wu Yue, the truth would be laid bare, and he would simply hide in secret. It was, to him, the perfect plan.

So, for days, Hou Baiyu waited. With his Celestial Eye technique, even from within the city, he could observe all that happened nearby. Sensing a surge of spiritual energy outside today, he decided to watch the excitement. He had not expected to run into Wu Yue, and even more astonishing, a fierce opponent had been vanquished in an instant and vanished without a trace. The more he thought on it, the more Hou Baiyu wondered if he had made a mistake. Could the people from Dark Cloud Stronghold truly handle someone like this? If not, wouldn’t he be exposed? The thought grew more troubling the more he dwelled on it.

Offending such a powerful man would make life difficult indeed. Hou Baiyu began to pray fervently that the men from Dark Cloud would arrive late, so he could escape in time. Better to preserve himself than to linger for pleasure.

Perhaps Hou Baiyu’s sins were too many.

A murder of crows burst into harsh, raucous cries.

Hou Baiyu’s face turned pale. The Fourth Master of Dark Cloud Stronghold had arrived—Silent Crow Lin Ya! He could only hope Lin Ya would defeat Wu Yue, and that Wu Yue, if captured, would not reveal his involvement. He gritted his teeth and prayed even harder.

A mass of crows, dense as storm clouds, blotted out the sky as they descended.

Their intentions were clear and hostile. Wu Yue sighed.

With the cries of the crows, a crowd surged from the city—cultivators at various stages, from Qi Condensation to Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, and even two Nascent Soul experts. These were the forces of Dark Cloud Stronghold within Black Curtain City.

“Salute to the Fourth Master!” Dark Cloud Stronghold had eleven divisions, each led by a Master; the Fourth Master was not the fourth in rank, but the head of the fourth division.

Hundreds of Dark Cloud Stronghold members gathered, a flock of crows before them. Atop the crows stood a man in black robes, his face cold and stern, a cloak billowing behind him.

“Who dares bar my path?” Lin Ya’s voice was cold and hoarse, like the cry of a crow, sharp and grating. If not for the desire to avoid unnecessary trouble, Lin Ya would have attacked already.

Wu Yue could not retreat; it was simply ill fortune that brought him to this pass just as his heist was nearly complete. He felt regret, but not resentment.

No matter what, he could not yield now. Though the man before him appeared overwhelmingly powerful, his cultivation was no greater than that of Qing Yuzi. If Wu Yue backed down now, his ruin would be complete.

“This road cannot be yielded!” Wu Yue declared, his voice ringing clear. With the Hall of Mount Tai’s power swirling about him, his bearing was undiminished.

“How bold!” Lin Ya’s voice screeched, as unpleasant as a crow’s cry.

“I act only as courage demands!” Wu Yue raised his right hand, blood streaming down.

“Oh? Wait—you're that boy from the Xie family, Wu Yue. Ha! Fortune falls into my lap today.” Lin Ya burst into wild laughter, the dark clouds above growing ever heavier. The sky darkened in an instant.

“Hand over the key, and I’ll grant you a swift death.”

“Red Sleeve, lend me a dagger,” Wu Yue said suddenly, not looking back, for he knew the woman in black would come to his side. Even on the brink of death, facing a deadly foe, the woman, whose will to die was unshakable, remained unmoved.

“I have no dagger,” Red Sleeve replied, breaking her sword and handing Wu Yue the hilt.

“This man is the head of the fourth division of Dark Cloud Stronghold—the very one responsible for your master’s death.”

Red Sleeve nodded, as if to say: and what of it?

“Today, I will avenge you,” Wu Yue said quietly. “Repay the debt you and I share.”

“Tricks and empty words!” Lin Ya snarled, sending a wave of crows shrouded in black mist crashing toward Wu Yue. Wu Yue remained calm as a violet shield rose around him. The crows screamed miserably, exploding against the shield, which began to tremble under the assault.

Wu Yue produced a sphere from his chest—the treasure that maintained his protective shield, now webbed with cracks. He examined it briefly, then put it away.

“Once, someone asked what kind of man I wished to become. I think I can answer now: neither wholly good nor wholly evil; not a sage, not a knave. I no longer seek to merely survive, but to repay every kindness, to settle every debt! My path is to live freely; my heart is set on gratitude and vengeance!”

A hundred miles away, in a small teahouse, an old priest in humble robes sipped cheap tea with relish. Suddenly, the cup in his hand trembled, sending ripples through the tea.

“There is no difference in greatness or nobility on the path; only the suffering shared with the world. Add to that an indomitable spirit, and is there anything cultivation cannot achieve?” The old priest murmured to himself. There was no sign of change in the teahouse, but a thousand miles away, thunder cracked across a clear sky.

Beneath that clear sky, in a small pavilion, two elderly men sat cross-legged, a basket of vegetables beside them. One, a priest in tattered robes, looked up at the thunder with a troubled face.

“My old benefactor, I can’t kill that man now.”

The other man’s expression did not change. “I never asked you to kill him.”

The old priest’s eyes widened. “Then am I not caught on both sides?”

The other elder merely lowered his head, silent.

At last, the violet shield could bear no more and shattered quietly. In the same instant, the black crows vanished as well.

“Hand it over, or die.” Lin Ya, as his name implied, was a man of few words. Now, with news of the key so suddenly in his grasp, he was determined not to let it slip away.

Before the shield broke, Wu Yue had done two things.

First, he handed the remaining elixirs to Red Sleeve and told her, “If I die, go to Luoyang and tell Princess Jin Ping, Li Suizhu, that Wu Yue is dead. Tell her not to grieve.” Red Sleeve did not refuse.

Second, twisting the broken sword, he stabbed it into his abdomen and drew out a white pill. Red Sleeve could not stop him.

Wu Yue showed no fear, not even the slightest change of expression.

“Today, Wu Yue cuts open his belly and offers up the Mortal Shedding Pill—let us both die on the road to transcendence!”

To live as a free man, to taste life without restraint—even with regrets, he felt more exhilaration.

The white pill exploded, releasing a hundred thousand vengeful souls.

The last image was Lin Ya’s face, twisted in terror, and Wu Yue turning his head to Red Sleeve, saying: “Come closer, don’t let our own be harmed.”

Nearly half of Black Curtain City was destroyed that day; of the eleven divisions of Dark Cloud Stronghold, ten remained.

From that day forth, Wu Yue’s return to the world sent his name resounding across the land.