The Return of the Youth, Chapter 23: Obliteration!

The cold moon hung high, and the biting wind cut through the silence of the night like a blade.

Atop the roof, a solitary figure stood motionless, as if fused with the darkness. He was clad in a voluminous gray robe, its hem dancing wildly in the gale, a futile struggle against the cold. A tattered conical hat shrouded him completely, revealing only a few strands of wind-tangled hair shivering beneath the brim.

After a long while, he slowly raised his hand, the movement heavy and deliberate, as if the act itself might shatter the solitude surrounding him. As the hat tilted slightly, the moonlight carved out his cold, firm chin. His eyes, hidden in shadow, were bottomless pits filled with an infinite, desolate loneliness, like a forgotten pool of stagnant water, devoid of even a ripple.

He spoke in a low voice, his words carried away by the biting wind.

"Perhaps, the one who dies will be Guo Shan."

Beside him, Tian You questioned, "How can that be! Although the lad is formidable, Guo Shan, after his demonic transformation, is comparable to a late-stage Ocean-Hidden Realm expert. That boy is likely only at the initial stage of the Ocean-Hidden Realm; how could he possibly defeat a late-stage master?"

Cultivators in this world, despite their countless schools—be they Cangwu cultivators, demonic practitioners, or martial artists—each followed vastly different methods and displayed unique abilities. Yet, when it came to the classification of cultivation realms, they all adhered to the same system, much like a hundred rivers flowing into one sea, different paths leading to the same destination.

At the start of the journey, one enters the Profound-Opening Realm, which is akin to knocking on the door of the cultivation world, beginning the long pilgrimage of seeking the Dao.

Crossing this threshold leads to the Ocean-Hidden Realm. This step alone hinders many, who remain stuck in the Profound-Opening Realm even as their hair turns gray. In this realm, a cultivator must gather their true essence, demonic power, or internal energy—much like converging streams—constantly accumulating and settling it to carve out their own "Hidden Ocean" within. This becomes the source of their power, nourishing them and laying a solid foundation for further cultivation.

Above this lies the Mortal-Transcending Realm.

This is a major watershed in cultivation, a state yearned for by countless practitioners but rarely reached. When the power in the Ocean-Hidden Realm reaches its peak, the cultivator attempts to break through to the Mortal-Transcending Realm. They must violently compress the vast ocean of power within their body. This process is perilous; a slight mistake can lead to a loss of control, resulting in death and the dissipation of one’s soul. Once successful, however, their power undergoes a qualitative leap.

...

The gray-robed man offered no explanation for his doubt, for at that moment, a cold wind swept through the long street.

Guo Shan opened his eyes. The violent demonic energy finally settled into a calm state. Only a single demonic mark remained on his thick, muscular frame, but it was merely the tip of the iceberg. He felt his body had reached its physical peak, a sensation of unprecedented exhilaration. He yearned for another fierce battle.

Even death in battle would be the glory of a martial artist.

"Die!"

He lunged forward, turning into a black blur, his speed several times faster than before, as he slammed a fist into Yi Heng’s chest.

Oh no!

Before Yi Heng could react, he was struck in the chest. Then, subjected to a continuous barrage of fists as swift as a gale, he was like a fallen leaf caught in a hurricane, tossed helplessly by the wind.

In just a brief moment, Guo Shan had thrown hundreds of blows. When the final punch, erupting with black flames, slammed into Yi Heng’s abdomen, the youth was sent flying like an arrow, crashing into a crumbling wall.

The wall collapsed, burying the boy’s figure.

This battle, it seemed, had reached its end.

"Big Brother, look! That kid must have been pounded into pulp by Guo Shan!"

On the rooftop, Tian You sneered, "You know, after his demonic transformation, Guo Shan’s body alone can withstand a strike from a Mortal-Transcending Realm Cangwu cultivator. How could that kid survive even one of Guo Shan’s punches, let alone a hundred? If he hasn't been turned into meat paste, he must be wearing some sort of protective artifact!"

The gray-robed man beside him remained silent, his brows slightly furrowed beneath his hat.

"To die under my demonic form is a life well-spent."

Guo Shan leaned over to pick up his fallen greatsword and strode toward the pile of rubble. He intended to drag out the boy’s corpse, cook it, and eat it piece by piece—this was the highest honor he could bestow upon a formidable rival. He would let the boy's body be digested and become a part of his own power.

But before he had walked ten steps, a sound came from the heap of rubble behind him. A dust-covered, blood-stained hand emerged with great difficulty from the gaps in the bricks.

Then, with a loud crash, debris scattered everywhere. Yi Heng struggled to push aside the heavy stones and stood up, swaying unsteadily.

At this moment, he looked utterly wretched.

His once-neat clothes were now in tatters, fragments fluttering in the wind. The soft armor he wore underneath had been smashed to pieces, scattered across the ground.

He staggered, opening his mouth to spit out a mouthful of blood, which splattered onto the stones.

"What! You're actually not dead?" Guo Shan was stunned, his eyes wide with disbelief.

On the roof, Tian You saw the boy standing up and twitched his mouth in embarrassment, cursing, "How is it possible? He’s not dead! Even a Mortal-Transcending martial artist would have been beaten to death under those hundred blows. How is he unscathed? How!!"

He couldn't fathom it. The boy was clearly a Cangwu cultivator. Why could he withstand Guo Shan's punches and still live? Cangwu cultivators possessed spells with world-shattering power, but their fragile bodies were an irredeemable weakness; if a martial artist got close, they were almost certain to be beaten to death.

Yet, this boy was clearly a Cangwu cultivator; why was his physique even stronger than a martial artist of the same level?

By the rubble, Yi Heng wiped the blood from his mouth with his thumb and said coldly, "From the time I was a child until now, no one has ever beaten me this hard. You are the first."

Guo Shan mocked, "What, angry? Too bad. With your initial-stage Ocean-Hidden strength, wanting to kill the current me is nothing but a delusion."

"Is that so?"

Yi Heng’s lips curled upward. He placed his Zhe-wood bow and standard Great Wei long saber on the ground, then untied his black robe. As the broken armor and undergarments fell away, his bronze-toned torso was revealed.

Although his muscles were not as terrifyingly thick or exaggerated as Guo Shan’s, they possessed an exquisite, perfect form. The muscle lines were clear and fluid, as if carved by a master craftsman, each block well-defined, exuding a unique beauty amidst its hardness. Beneath this appearance, which balanced strength and softness, lay a surging, pent-up power.

"Did your master not teach you not to dawdle in battle?" Guo Shan rushed toward Yi Heng, throwing a punch at the boy’s forehead. If that punch had landed, the skull would have shattered like a watermelon.

Yet, a hand caught the fist, and no matter how much force Guo Shan applied, he couldn't push it forward even half an inch.

Guo Shan was shocked. He attempted a left hook to Yi Heng’s chest, but Yi Heng dodged it.

He took the opportunity to pull his hand back and retreat.

In that instant, a strong sense of crisis washed over him like a tide. He vaguely felt that the person before him could take his life.

A chill crept up his spine, and the hair on Guo Shan's back stood on end. He re-evaluated the boy in front of him.

Who on earth was this kid?

His body was actually even stronger than his own!

"Tonight, you will be the seventh martial artist to die at my hands."

Yi Heng looked up; his black pupils turned violet, and his hands transformed into black claws—like the妖 claws of a Nine-Tailed Fox from Qingqiu.

"You actually practiced the secret arts of the demon race. No wonder your physique is so powerful," Guo Shan said solemnly, staring at Yi Heng’s claws.

Yi Heng did not speak. Just as his opponent had mistaken his cultivation for only the initial stage of the Ocean-Hidden Realm, his actions now represented his firm resolve as he dashed toward Guo Shan.

His violet pupils burned with fire, and the aura surrounding him was terrifying.

"Come! Tonight I want to see whether your demonic art is stronger, or my demon art is."

Guo Shan unleashed his demonic art again, the markings on his body erupting with blinding light. He took a step forward, shattering the stone tiles beneath his feet.

Boom!

The two figures collided fiercely on the long street. The resulting shockwave was like a sharp longsword, cutting down trees along the road, overturning walls, and shaking more distant houses as if an earthquake had struck.

...

Atop the roof.

"Big Brother, where are you going?" Tian You asked, chasing after the gray-robed man who had turned to leave.

"Back!"

The gray-robed man leaped from the rooftop onto the street and began walking deeper into the night. Where he had landed, a pile of unmelted snow remained, imprinted with shallow footprints.

Tian You looked at his brother’s back and shouted, "Big Brother, go ahead. Guo Shan and I will return shortly."

"Don't wait for him."

"Why?"

"He is dead."

The gray-robed man’s figure had already merged into the darkness, his indifferent voice echoing down the long street.

How could this be!

How could Guo Shan be killed by that kid!!

Tian You turned back abruptly. Under the moonlight on the long street, Yi Heng and Guo Shan stood face to face. Yi Heng’s fist was clenched tight, stopped half an inch from Guo Shan’s chest. Guo Shan’s eyes were wide, filled with horror. Looking down, he saw the Nine-Tailed Fox claw had pierced through his abdomen.

Blood dripped from the claws onto the ground, pooling into a puddle.

Blood flowed uncontrollably from the corners of his mouth. He gasped, his words coming in intermittent fragments: "You... won."

Yi Heng pulled back his claws, his hands instantly returning to normal. He crouched on the ground, gasping for air, utterly exhausted.

As Yi Heng withdrew his claws, Guo Shan could feel the wind blowing through the bloody hole in his stomach. He faintly heard the sound of his mother shaking a rattle-drum to amuse him when he was a child.

But then, flames soared to the heavens. The entire village was slaughtered by bandits. He had only survived because his mother hid him in a water vat. Later, through a twist of fate, he became a demonic practitioner. He hunted down all the bandits who had slaughtered his village, killed them, and then, while fighting the urge to vomit, spent a month eating every one of them.

"Mother! Shan'er... is coming... to find you."

A line of bloody tears flowed from the corner of his eye. At the moment of death, he seemed to have gained instant enlightenment. He grabbed Yi Heng’s shoulder. "Kid, what you practice... it’s not a demon art. You are a demon... a fox demon."

He shoved Yi Heng away, retreated a few steps, and roared at the sky, "One day, you will be abandoned by your companions and hunted by all the cultivators in the world. That is your fate."

"I will be waiting for you in hell... for another battle."

Yi Heng clenched his right hand and said in a deep voice, "Do not try to disturb my Dao heart."

He raised his claw and blasted the man’s head into pieces. Blood and gore splattered everywhere. He looked up at the solitary moon, speechless for a long time.

"Bastard! One day I will use silver needles to prick you into a hedgehog. Not only to avenge myself but also to avenge Brother Guo Shan. You just wait."

Seeing that Guo Shan was dead, Tian You glared fiercely at Yi Heng, jumped off the roof, crushed the snow on the ground, and fled into the night.

After a moment, Yi Heng withdrew his gaze and walked to Guo Shan’s corpse. He found twenty taels of gold in his clothes and a mid-stage Ocean-Hidden demonic core; there was nothing else.

"It seems the martial artists of this world are all paupers, and demonic practitioners are no exception."

As far as he knew, Cangwu cultivators relied on insight; through meditation, they could comprehend the laws of heaven and earth, drawing spiritual energy into their bodies, allowing for rapid cultivation progress.

Martial artists, however, relied on vast amounts of rare, heaven-sent treasures to refine their bodies. Resources were hard to find and expensive; not only was their cultivation process slow, but they were also constantly plagued by financial woes.

Therefore, martial artists were usually broke.

Yi Heng turned and picked up his long saber and Zhe-wood bow, then shouldered the greatsword, laughing, "This sword should fetch a good price. Tonight’s battle wasn’t in vain."

Dragging the greatsword, he walked toward the prison.

Tonight was destined to be a sleepless one.