Chapter 202 - 200: Inhuman

Chapter 202: Chapter 200: Inhuman

The courtyard outside the study was already packed with shadowy figures.

Dozens of Zhao Family Nursing Home guards and Martial Artists, each brandishing blades, spears, staves, or clubs—some even armed with powerful bows and crossbows—had formed an impenetrable ring around the massive inner courtyard.

Fu Juemin was not surprised by the scene. After all the commotion he’d made late at night, it would have been stranger if no one had shown up.

Facing the crowd’s predatory glares, Fu Juemin showed not a hint of panic. He simply walked out of the room with a natural expression, gently pulling the study door closed behind him.

He stood under the covered walkway, calmly surveying the entire scene.

Soon, his gaze fell upon a middle-aged woman standing at the front of the crowd. She was dressed in a deep purple, brocade-lined jacket and skirt, with a white flower tucked into the hair at her temple.

White lanterns bearing the word "Mourning" hung from the covered walkway, casting a ghastly pallor over the woman’s face.

When Fu Juemin emerged from the study, she swayed visibly, as if confirming something.

Her gaze instantly turned vicious, and her eyes, like poisoned daggers, locked onto Fu Juemin.

It didn’t take a genius to guess that this must be Zhao Jigang’s wife, the matriarch of the Zhao Family.

Zhao Tianpeng’s body had yet to be formally buried. The "Mourning" signs throughout the Zhao Family compound had not been taken down, and now they would have a new death to mourn.

First her son, then her husband... It was no wonder the woman looked at Fu Juemin as if she wanted to eat him alive.

"Kill him for me! Tear him limb from limb!"

In the cold, empty courtyard, the woman’s voice was sharp and trembling with extreme hatred.

She swung her arm fiercely and shrieked, "Whoever avenges the master will be rewarded with twenty ’Big Yellow Croakers’!"

As her voice fell, the entire courtyard erupted into a commotion.

Several Martial Artists at the very front raised their hands in practiced unison—SWOOSH—

Several bags of quicklime powder were thrown directly at Fu Juemin!

As a thick white mist of powder spread, several more people rushed out, mixing clouds of strangely colored powder with the lime and scattering it. It carried a sweet, foul, rotting stench—clearly an instantly fatal poison.

Immediately after, the sound of countless Hidden Weapons slicing through the air rang out at almost the same instant.

Flying locust stones, Iron Thorns, Poisoned Sleeve Arrows, Bone-Piercing Nails... from every cunning angle, they tore through the spreading dust, converging on Fu Juemin’s vital points! From the rear, the thrum of tightening bowstrings hummed as powerful bows and crossbows were drawn and readied!

This coordinated attack was sinister, vicious, and incredibly swift. It was clearly a well-rehearsed killing trap, designed specifically to eliminate powerful experts of the Martial Dao.

An ordinary expert, even a Martial Artist of the Gratitude Sensing Realm, would likely be thrown into a panic if suddenly caught in such an overwhelming and utterly ruthless siege.

If Zhao Jigang or the Corpse Bat King were also there to attack from the side, the slightest carelessness would likely have resulted in severe injury or death.

However, Fu Juemin just stood there.

He didn’t even make a move to dodge or block.

PUFF PUFF PUFF...

The falling quicklime and poison powder showered down over Fu Juemin, yet not a speck touched his skin, merely staining his robes a mottled patchwork of colors.

Immediately after, the storm of Hidden Weapons, letting out shrill whistles, struck his body squarely.

However, the expected scene of blood and gore did not materialize.

Instead, a continuous "CLANG CLANG CLANG—!!" rang out, as if striking against ingots of tempered steel.

The sound was dense and dull, carrying a grating hardness that set one’s teeth on edge.

In just an instant, Fu Juemin’s outer robe was torn with countless holes, revealing the skin beneath. It had a faint, dark red sheen, with subtle orange patterns of light flowing across it.

When the sharp-edged Hidden Weapons, forged from pure steel, struck it, they were either sent flying, bent and twisted, or they barely embedded themselves in the surface of his skin. Unable to even leave a scratch, they were then gently "squeezed" out by his flexing muscles, falling uselessly to the ground with a CLINK...

Fu Juemin stood with his eyes downcast amidst the dense "rain of Hidden Weapons," unmoving, as if he were a willing target for all to throw at.

Eventually, the whistle of Hidden Weapons and the clatter of metal on the ground subsided, then fell silent.

The courtyard was a disaster zone, yet it was terrifyingly silent.

Everyone stared fixedly at the figure who stood, firm as a mountain, amidst the scattered Hidden Weapons on the ground.

They watched as the figure slowly raised a hand and casually brushed off the lime and poison powder from his shoulder, as if flicking away useless dust.

Then he raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the people in the courtyard.

In those eyes, there was no anger, no killing intent, only an abnormal indifference and calm, like one looking down upon ants.

"Hkk..."

Someone let out a choked, hissing gasp.

The courtyard fell deathly silent for a moment. The fervent viciousness on the faces of all the attackers was replaced by utter, incredulous astonishment. Some of them found their grips on their blades weakening.

The woman on the covered walkway was also stunned, as if she had forgotten what command to give next.

At that moment, Fu Juemin took a step forward.

CLACK.

The sound of his boot on the stone tiles wasn’t loud, but it landed like a heavy hammer blow on each person’s chest.

The woman’s face paled. She finally snapped out of it and shrieked, her voice distorted.

"F-fire the arrows!"

SWISH SWISH SWISH—!

Several crossbows, long held in readiness, fired at once! Specially made Armor-Piercing Arrows became several blurry black lines, tearing through the air, aimed straight for the few places that might be weak points on Fu Juemin—his face and heart!

In an age before firearms from the Western World had appeared, this was the most lethal attack achievable by mortal might!

Yet Fu Juemin still didn’t dodge or evade. He merely narrowed his eyes slightly, even tilting his chin up.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The arrows found their mark! But the sound wasn’t the dull THUD of piercing flesh, but a much sharper, ear-piercing clang of metal striking something harder!

One arrow grazed past Fu Juemin’s temple, kicking up a trail of fleeting sparks and leaving only a shallow white line on his skin. Two arrows aimed at his heart pressed deep against the flesh beneath his robe, letting out a grating SCREECH that set one’s teeth on edge. The arrow shafts, unable to withstand the immense force, suddenly bent, cracked, and sprang away harmlessly...

These Armor-Piercing Crossbow Arrows, powerful enough to pierce light armor and kill a Tiger, couldn’t even truly break his skin!

"M-monster!"

Someone finally broke. Their weapon fell to the ground with a CLANG, and they turned and fled.

Fu Juemin took another step forward.

His pace was not fast, even somewhat slow, but every step seemed to land heavily on the heart of everyone present. A tyrannical aura, mixed with the smell of blood and the scorching heat of a furnace, began to spread. The terrible, formless pressure made everyone feel as if they couldn’t breathe, as if they were suffocating.

As he walked into the densest part of the crowd, the blades and spears that had been raised for so long finally came hacking and stabbing at him chaotically, accompanied by roars of desperation and bravado.

A gleaming steel saber chopped down fiercely on his arm. For a moment, a cluster of sparks burst forth, and the blade’s edge immediately curled.

A long spear thrust into his waist, and with a SNAP, the shaft broke. A heavy Iron Ruler slammed into his back, resulting in a dull clang like a bell being struck. The one holding the ruler retreated in horror, the webbing of his hands split open and bleeding...

Fu Juemin just kept walking, occasionally raising an arm and waving it casually.

BANG!

A saber-wielding Martial Artist, as if struck by a Siege Hammer, had his chest cave in and was sent flying backward, directly smashing through a section of the courtyard wall.

He casually grabbed the neck of another man attempting a sneak attack, gave it a light twist, and with the crisp CRACK of breaking bone, tossed the corpse aside...

There were no exquisite techniques, just the purest form of crushing power.

These Zhao Family Martial Artists, whose average strength was only around the Blood Barrier realm—with the rare exception of a Tongxuan realm expert—couldn’t even slightly slow Fu Juemin’s steps. With a casual move from him, they were sent flying in all directions like uprooted reeds...

He advanced step by step, unhurried. The attackers went from swarming him with nothing but reckless courage to, in the end, none daring to approach him at all.

Those still on their feet backed away in terror, huddling together. The look in their eyes was filled with boundless horror and fear, as if they were looking at an utterly invincible and incomprehensible, inhuman monster.

Finally, Fu Juemin reached the covered walkway on the opposite side of the courtyard.

Even though she was two steps above him, the woman on the walkway was still a full head shorter than Fu Juemin.

The light from the white lantern overhead fell on Fu Juemin’s shoulder, casting a deep shadow over the woman’s face, which was contorted in fear.

Fu Juemin looked down at her, his eyes calm.

Under his gaze, the woman’s body gradually went limp, yet the hatred and venom in her eyes grew even more intense...

Suddenly—SPLAT—

With a soft sound, a spray of red and white matter splattered against the walls and pillars of the doorway.

Fu Juemin slowly withdrew the hand he had pressed on the woman’s Celestial Spirit. He had weathered countless schemes and attacks, crossing the entire courtyard, as if solely to do this one thing.

Once it was done, he tilted his head slightly.

The moonlight happened to fall on one side of his face, accentuating its hard, cold lines. His eyes, still calm and rippleless, swept across the scene.

He just stood there, but the image of his absolute, tyrannical, and indestructible presence was deeply seared into the minds of everyone present.

Then he turned and walked toward the main gate, his figure soon swallowed completely by the darkness in the distance.

Long after his figure had completely disappeared, the deathly silence of the courtyard was finally broken by a sob, suppressed to its absolute limit.

This was followed by the sound of more people collapsing from exhaustion. The faces of all those gasping for air were filled with the profound relief and lingering fear of having survived a catastrophe.