Chapter 478 - 475: Pursuers

Chapter 478: Chapter 475: Pursuers

The morning light filtered through the dense canopy of leaves, scattering into fine flecks that dappled the leaf-strewn forest floor.

"SWOOSH!"

Carrying Lie Yunting, Meng Zhao sped through the mountain forest for nearly an hour. Only when he confirmed that the heart-pounding golden Saber Intent was no longer behind them did he stop in a hidden mountain hollow.

He set Lie Yunting down and leaned against an ancient tree, gasping for breath.

On his deep-red Elder Robe, the saber wound on his left side was still seeping blood, staining half of his lapel a dark crimson.

Although the wound on his right shoulder was shallow, it made the hand he used to grip his sword tremble faintly.

His usually composed face was now beaded with sweat at the temples.

In his fight with Chen Wanjun, he hadn’t gained the slightest advantage.

His opponent’s Saber Technique was more profound and his Inner Qi more vigorous than he had anticipated. If the fight had continued, he would have undoubtedly been the one to lose.

’Xue Yuanlang, you’re a complete waste!’

Meng Zhao couldn’t help but curse inwardly.

He had entangled Chen Wanjun in battle, waiting for Xue Yuanlang to eliminate Fang Han so they could join forces to besiege and kill Chen Wanjun.

But he never expected that Xue Yuanlang would actually fall to Fang Han.

A First Grade Martial Artist, falling to someone at the Middle Stage of Third Grade—it was simply laughable.

Thanks to Xue Yuanlang’s death, the entire battle had collapsed.

The accompanying genius disciples from Thunderlight Pavilion, including Xue Wu, were more likely dead than alive.

As for the Red Flame Sect, only he and Lie Yunting remained.

’The Thunderlight Pavilion disciples are one thing, but the lost disciples of my Red Flame Sect...’

Meng Zhao swore under his breath, his voice hoarse with suppressed rage and a trace of panic he refused to acknowledge.

Aside from Lie Yunting, all the other genius disciples from the Red Flame Sect who had come along were dead.

Even with his status as a First-Grade Elder, he would inevitably face severe punishment from the Sect upon his return.

"HISS—"

Lie Yunting slumped to the ground nearby, his back against a moss-covered boulder.

Although the bleeding from the sword wound on his chest had stopped, every breath still tugged at the injury, causing his brow to furrow tightly.

His dark red robes were soaked in blood and clung to his body, giving him a disheveled appearance.

He kept his head down, saying nothing.

Having escaped death, he felt not a shred of joy, only a profound, lingering fear.

Xue Yuanlang was dead.

That First Grade Martial Artist, a highly experienced Elder from Thunderlight Pavilion, had died under the sword of Fang Han, who was only at the Middle Stage of Third Grade.

He instinctively wanted nothing to do with a man like that.

It wasn’t cowardice, but a beast-like intuition—making an enemy of such a person would lead to endless future trouble.

But Meng Zhao was no ordinary Elder.

He was a First Grade Martial Artist with a respected position in the Red Flame Sect. Even as the top rank on the Celestial Pride List, Lie Yunting found it difficult to defy his decision.

Now, his bad premonition had come true.

Not only had they failed to obtain the treasures from the Ancient Ruins, but they had also lost several genius disciples and, worse, made a mortal enemy of a monster like Fang Han.

"Elder Meng."

Lie Yunting looked up, his voice hoarse and laced with a hint of repressed complaint.

"What... do we do now?"

Meng Zhao did not answer immediately.

He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing into the depths of the forest. His once-bright eyes were now as dark as still water.

After a moment, a cold smirk touched the corners of his lips.

"We don’t need to do anything."

His voice was soft, laced with a sinister viciousness.

Lie Yunting was slightly taken aback.

"Xue Yuanlang is dead, and all of Thunderlight Pavilion’s genius disciples on this trip have been wiped out. Do you think Thunderlight Pavilion will let the matter rest?"

Meng Zhao turned, his gaze falling upon Lie Yunting’s face.

Lie Yunting’s pupils contracted slightly.

Meng Zhao continued:

"We only need to leak this news to Thunderlight Pavilion, and they will deal with the Qingxuan Sect group for us."

He paused, his voice turning even colder.

"A First-Grade Elder and several genius disciples—this blood debt is enough to drive Thunderlight Pavilion mad."

Lie Yunting fell silent.

He understood Meng Zhao’s meaning.

Using a borrowed knife to kill.

They just had to pass the news to Thunderlight Pavilion, and Thunderlight Pavilion would naturally become the knife in their hands.

"Let’s go."

Meng Zhao withdrew his gaze and strode out of the hollow.

"First, we leave this forest. Then, we’ll send a message to Thunderlight Pavilion."

Lie Yunting struggled to his feet and followed behind him.

The two figures moved through the mountain forest, their forms shrinking into the distance as the morning light cast their long shadows behind them.

...

「One day later.」

A small path snaked through the forest, gleaming grayish-white under the afternoon sun.

The steps of the Qingxuan Sect group were no longer as brisk as when they had started.

Fang Han walked in the middle of the group. The bloodstains on the tattered parts of his green robe, torn by puppet claws, had dried into dark brown patches that clung to the fabric.

His breathing was a little heavier than usual, his face slightly pale, and fine beads of sweat trickled from his temples.

They had been traveling nonstop for a day and a night, resting only twice. Each break lasted no more than the time it takes an incense stick to burn, during which they merely gnawed on some dry rations with water before setting off again.

Already injured and now forced to travel continuously, his condition could be described as quite poor.

The hem of Yun Qianyue’s dress was caked in mud. A light veil covered her face, revealing only a pair of cool, clear eyes.

Her eyes remained serene, but the exhaustion at their corners was hard to conceal.

Her every step seemed exceptionally heavy.

Luo Yuntian’s deep-green robe showed several obvious tears. His expression remained composed, but his breathing was no longer as steady as before.

Kuang Tu carried his door-panel-sized, broad-bladed giant saber. His burly, tiger-backed frame was still upright, but he couldn’t suppress his heavy panting.

Chen Wuhen’s folding fan was long closed and tucked into his belt, his handsome face covered in the dust of their travels.

Su Yuwei’s eyes were downcast, her dress covered in dirt, and her steps were unsteady.

Mo Chen remained expressionless, but his breathing was clearly rapid.

Liu Ruyan and Wang Miao, who had the weakest Cultivation, were in the worst shape. Their faces were as pale as paper, and every step seemed to drain all their strength.

Chen Wanjun walked at the very front.

His deep-green Elder Robe fluttered slightly in the dappled light and shadow, his pace still steady.

As a First Grade Martial Artist, his vast reserves of Inner Qi allowed him to be in far better condition than Fang Han and the other nine, even after traveling for a day and a night.

Most importantly, unlike Fang Han and the other nine, he was not injured.

He stopped and turned around. His gaze swept over the nine of them; the exhaustion on their young faces was almost palpable.

Some faces were pale, some breaths were shallow, and some steps were faltering.

But no one complained, and no one asked to stop and rest. They all knew just how dangerous their current situation was.

"Just half a day more."

A flicker of gratification crossed Chen Wanjun’s eyes before vanishing.

He spoke, encouraging the group.

"In another half a day, we will leave Donglu County and return to Qingyang County."

He paused, his gaze fixed on the rolling mountain skyline in the distance.

"We’ll be safe then!"

At these words, the spirits of the nine disciples lifted.

Qingyang County.

That was the Qingxuan Sect’s sphere of influence—their territory.

As soon as they set foot in Qingyang County, they would have escaped the most perilous part of their journey.

No matter how audacious Thunderlight Pavilion was, they wouldn’t dare to openly cross into another county to hunt them down.

"Yes."

Luo Yuntian was the first to speak, his voice hoarse but filled with irrepressible joy.

Yun Qianyue said nothing, only giving a slight nod.

Kuang Tu grinned, his smile carrying a hint of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted.

Chen Wuhen let out a long, turbid breath. Su Yuwei lowered her eyes, and her tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

Fang Han nodded as well, his expression calm, but a flicker of anticipation also crossed the depths of his eyes.

Chen Wanjun’s gaze fell on Fang Han as he asked.

"Fang Han, have you detected any pursuers? Or anything else unusual?"

Ever since they set out, Fang Han had been sparing no Inner Qi, continuously operating his *Thousand-Mile Soul Lock* at full power to perceive any auras within a radius of several miles.

This was the key to the team’s ability to evade danger in advance.

Fang Han shook his head and said.

"I haven’t found any pursuers, nor anything else out of the ordinary."

Chen Wanjun nodded slightly, and a thread of tension in his morning-star-bright eyes quietly loosened.

The others also visibly breathed a sigh of relief, the grave expressions on their faces softening a little.

"That’s good."

Chen Wanjun turned and strode forward.

"Let’s keep moving."

Everyone hurried to follow, their steps a bit lighter than before.

Half a day.

They just had to hold on for another half a day to get back to Qingyang County, where they would be truly safe.

---

「Several miles away.」

Three figures streaked through the dense forest.

The leader was tall and powerfully built, clad in a deep blue robe with silver lightning patterns embroidered on the cuffs.

He had a rugged face, with eyes as sharp as an eagle’s under thick brows, flashing with brilliant light whenever he blinked.

His surname was Lei, his given name Zheng. He was a First-Grade Elder of Thunderlight Pavilion.

To his left was a woman of about fifty, with a slender build and a stern face. Her graying hair was tied up with a single silver hairpin.

She wore a deep blue robe and had a longsword in its scabbard hanging from her waist. Several blue Gemstones were embedded in the Sword Scabbard, giving off a cold glint in the morning light.

Her surname was Leng, her given name Ling. Also a First-Grade Elder of Thunderlight Pavilion, she was known within the pavilion as the "Cold-faced Rakshasa" for her sharp Swordsmanship and ruthless methods.

To the right was an old man of about sixty, with a gaunt frame and a stiff, old-fashioned face, but his eyes were shockingly bright.

He also wore a deep blue robe and walked with his hands behind his back. His aura was restrained, yet it faintly exuded a heart-pounding sense of pressure.

His surname was Han, his given name Yue, and he too was a First-Grade Elder of Thunderlight Pavilion.

Three First-Grade experts.

A lineup like this was enough to flatten any major power short of a top-level influence.

And now, they had come on orders, for the sole purpose of hunting down the group from the Qingxuan Sect.

Xue Yuanlang was dead.

The accompanying genius disciples from Thunderlight Pavilion were also dead.

Such a loss had sent the upper echelons of Thunderlight Pavilion into a fury.

Although they knew full well that Xue Yuanlang’s greed was to blame—that he had been the one to ambush the Qingxuan Sect group first, so the Qingxuan Sect group couldn’t be faulted.

But so what?

A First-Grade Elder and several genius disciples—a loss like that was simply too painful.

So painful that Thunderlight Pavilion couldn’t possibly give up on revenge just because they weren’t in the right.

Of course, if their opponent had been an Overlord-level Influence they couldn’t afford to provoke, it would be a different story.

But the Qingxuan Sect was merely a top-level influence in Qingyang County, on the same level as Thunderlight Pavilion.

Having suffered such a huge loss to a peer, how could Thunderlight Pavilion save face if they didn’t retaliate?

How would they maintain their standing in Donglu County in the future?

Therefore, they had to retaliate.

They had to make the Qingxuan Sect pay the price.

"Elder Leng, how much farther?"

Lei Zheng asked, his voice low and steady even as they sped along.

"We’ll catch them in half an hour at most."

Leng Ling said.

She cultivated a Tracking Secret Technique that, while not as good as Fang Han’s, could still be considered exceptional.

Among the Qingxuan Sect group, although Fang Han and Chen Wanjun had advanced Concealing Breath methods, the others did not. They could only rely on Concealing Breath Powder to mask their auras.

Tracking them wasn’t difficult.

"Very good."

Lei Zheng nodded slightly, a glint of icy killing intent flashing in his sharp, eagle-like eyes.

"Pick up the pace."

The three of them increased their speed again, transforming into three streaks of deep blue light that shot through the mountain forest.

Wherever they passed, fallen leaves were swept up, and the grass and trees were bent low by the powerful wind.