Chapter Fifty-Five: Unmatched Ferocity

Whenever words failed, violence erupted—this was not something Nan Luo had never encountered before. Yet, to be denied even an opportunity to speak, to have a crime arbitrarily thrust upon him, and to face immediate execution without explanation—this was a first. The accusation of betraying one’s master and forgetting old debts left Nan Luo utterly perplexed.

The man confronting him was rugged and imposing, his facial features as hard-edged as the two massive battle axes in his hands. Even without anger, he was intimidating enough to chill the heart; the entire impression he gave was that of a savage beast poised to pounce.

To outsiders, the scene appeared as if this man had simply taken a step and instantly appeared before Nan Luo, his axe already cleaving downward with unstoppable force—domineering, wild, and fierce.

But in Nan Luo’s celestial vision, all he saw was a single black line descending with unmatched swiftness from above, splitting heaven and earth as though the world itself was being riven in two by that strike.

“I must not meet this force head-on,” Nan Luo thought, and in the same instant he merged into the void, drawing the Azure Yan Sword from his waist.

A resounding clang rang out as a beam of sword light soared skyward. Only the sword light was visible; Nan Luo’s figure was nowhere to be seen.

The blade and the axe met with a crisp chime, parting instantly upon contact. There was little magical fluctuation, yet the axeman felt as though his blow had struck nothing but air. Nan Luo’s presence vanished entirely from his senses, causing his eyes to flash with a dark, searching gleam as he scoured the surroundings for his quarry.

The onlookers at the Yangping Clan’s gate tightened their grips on their weapons in alarm, for in their eyes, under that one blow, their priest had scattered to dust in an instant. Relief washed over them when Nan Luo reappeared in the void before they could even react or judge the situation.

Standing amidst the emptiness, Nan Luo’s expression was stern, the Azure Yan Sword in his hand pointing at the ground.

“I do not know what I have done to earn such hatred from you…”

The burly man, brandishing his fierce battle axe at Nan Luo, shouted angrily, “You are the child of the Peacock Hall of the Undying Palace—how could you be here!” With that, he stomped the ground, stepping into the void and reappearing before Nan Luo, the cruel axe already descending upon him.

The question caught Nan Luo off guard, and he found himself at a loss for words. His mind raced, but before he could respond, the giant axe was already upon him, as swift as his own innate earth-escape technique.

Though their speeds were equal, their methods differed entirely. The giant’s every step exuded wild, overwhelming force, as if he could push mountains and split open the heavens, while Nan Luo’s escape technique was subtle, hiding both form and spirit in silence.

Seeing the brute strike once more without waiting for a reply, Nan Luo’s patience wore thin and a hint of anger stirred within him. “Does he truly think I, Nan Luo, fear him? Such unreasoning savagery—before the Ancestor Wu Zhu Rong himself, I would still have my say.”

With that thought, his body once again dissipated like rosy clouds with the axe’s descent. The giant’s axe paused in mid-air as soon as Nan Luo vanished, his eyes flashing darkly as he sought his foe in the void. At that moment, the void shimmered and a sword light shot straight for the giant’s throat.

The sword light pierced through space in a single line, producing a resonant hum.

“Xingtian, that is an innate sword artifact—do not try to block it with your body!” cried a tall, black-robed figure below, just as the tip of Nan Luo’s sword emerged from the void. But his warning came too late—the Azure Yan Sword was already at the giant’s throat.

With a crisp chime, the battle axe, as if waiting for this moment, intercepted the sword. In the same instant, the other axe in the giant’s left hand swung explosively at Nan Luo’s head. The giant laughed boisterously, “Kuafu, don’t think you’re the only one who can see it’s an innate sword artifact. How could I, Xingtian, not sense it? Today, I will reclaim the Wu bloodline that Ancestor Zhu Rong bestowed upon him.”

Among the Wu tribe, the Ancestor Wu was a sacred existence—one born with the world itself. Yet Xingtian spoke of reclaiming the blood bestowed by Ancestor Zhu Rong from Nan Luo without a hint of reverence.

Nan Luo knew he was no match for Xingtian, whether in magical power or the strength of his bloodline, and so could not confront him directly. Each time the giant’s axe fell, Nan Luo would merge into the void and escape.

Drifting through the void as if in water, Nan Luo vanished and reappeared behind Xingtian in the blink of an eye.

For a time, the void was lit with flashes of azure, sword light bursting forth like fireworks around Xingtian. Though Xingtian could not perceive Nan Luo within the void, each time the sword light threatened him, he managed to parry it, instantly counterattacking with an axe and forcing Nan Luo to flee.

His reactions were as swift as Nan Luo’s own earth-escape—arising and acting with the heart’s desire.

“Is sneaking attacks from behind all you know? Truly worthy of a traitor who forgets his master,” Xingtian bellowed. At his words, the myriad sword lights vanished, and the void stilled.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before the Yangping Clan’s gate—Nan Luo, clad in azure robes, standing tall and coldly resolute, his sword already sheathed.

“You accuse me of betrayal over and over. Let us set that aside for now. But know this: I am not one to be slaughtered at another’s whim,” he replied, voice icy and tinged with anger. Because of Ancestor Zhu Rong, Nan Luo had always harbored goodwill towards the Wu tribe. That was why, knowing the two witch priests would not let things rest, he still allowed them to leave that day.

Even though he knew today’s visitors came with ill intent, he had not failed in courtesy. Yet this Xingtian had called him a traitor and sought his head without so much as a hearing—how could Nan Luo endure such treatment?

Suddenly, a cloud of yellow mist coiled around Nan Luo, hazy and indistinct, as if it arose from his very being or condensed out of the void itself. His face was cold as frost; he slowly drew his sword, and his aura surged like a rising tide.

On the sidelines, the tall black-robed figure named Kuafu watched Nan Luo’s mounting momentum with a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “So this is the one chosen as the child of the Peacock Hall in the Undying Palace—not an ordinary person after all. Ancestor Zhu Rong’s drop of blood was not wasted…” Such thoughts flashed through his mind.

Nan Luo moved. With a single step, he seemed to melt into the void—ethereal, drifting like mist and clouds about to rise on the wind, yet exuding a sense of solidity and weight in contradiction.

Though his form seemed to merge with emptiness, it was still clearly visible. The yellow mist billowed, and where he passed, a river of gathered smoke and cloud seemed to appear, surging faintly with hidden power—never fully manifest, but imparting a profound oppressive aura.

With each step, his presence intensified.

Suddenly, after another step, Nan Luo’s figure expanded as he invoked the Divine Manifestation of Heaven and Earth.

“Divine Manifestation of Heaven and Earth—it’s really the Divine Manifestation!” the gray-robed, gray-haired figure accompanying them exclaimed in awe.

Kuafu, the tall black-robed man, replied calmly, “Indeed, but it is not quite the same as our Wu tribe’s Divine Manifestation. We drive ours with our bloodline, he with magical power. Though not as mighty, he fuses it with Daoist arts—he has not disgraced Ancestor Zhu Rong’s blood or the name of this divine power.”

“I still think, as an outsider, no matter how he merges it, it cannot match the purity of our own blood,” the gray-robed one replied with a strange tone.

Kuafu merely chuckled, saying nothing, his eyes seeming to see through all hearts.

Xingtian roared with laughter, his form suddenly swelling to several zhang in height, his aura wild and surging.

Nan Luo opened his mouth wide, drawing wind and cloud from the sky, swallowing the essence of heaven and earth and converting it to spiritual energy. His body grew in an instant to match Xingtian’s height, shrouded in yellow mist as though he had become one with heaven and earth. He had fused his understanding of the Earth Dao with the Divine Manifestation of Heaven and Earth.

The Azure Yan Sword in his hand transformed with him, becoming a giant sword, its blade dazzling and its edge as sharp as a frost-bound dawn.