Chapter 584 - 584: Son is dead, Father comes

The air in the courtyard fractured with a high-pitched metallic shriek.

Cui Yongze struck first. His silhouette blurred into a blinding streak of crimson radiance, his sword lunging forward like a striking viper.

"Crimson Sword Draw!"

Instant sword drawing, no one could see the sword, only a flash. It was an executioner's technique honed entirely for instantaneous speed, designed to sever the limbs and lacerate every major meridian in Lin Fan's body before he could even blink.

Or, that's what Cui Yogze thought would happen.

Inside his own consciousness, Lin Fan watched in breathless awe. His shattered bones and ruined meridians were no longer under his control; his limbs moved on their own, guided by a supreme will that carried the weight of a peerless martial lord.

The divine spirit used his body like a masterful puppeteer.

Facing the razor-sharp arc of crimson steel, Lin Fan's palm traced a languid circle in the empty air.

"Dragon Subduing Eight Trigrams: Marsh Burial Palm!"

The motion seemed absurdly slow, yet it carried a mysterious rhythm that seemed to ripple the air, making everything around it heavy and sluggish. Just as the deadly edge was an inch from his throat, Lin Fan's open palm gently grazed the flat body of the whistling sword.

*WHENG!!"

The contact was light as a falling feather, yet Cui Yongze's face twisted in shock! A suffocating momentum enveloped his weapon, like plunging his blade into a bottomless bog of quicksand.

The immense momentum of his lethal strike was deflected with fluid ease, the killing path diverted harmlessly past Lin Fan's shoulder.

Before Cui Yongze could recover his balance, Lin Fan's body sprang like a coiled spring. A vicious, lightning-fast side kick caught Cui Yongze square in the ribs.

*BAMM!*

"Ugh!" Cui Yongze grunted as he was hurled backward, his feet carving deep imprints across the paved stone floor before he stabilized himself. He gulped back the bile that rose, his eyes blazed with humiliation.

"How dare you, you filthy, crippled dog!" Cui Yongze roared, veins throbbing violently across his forehead. "You dare lay a hand on this Young Master?!"

Lin Fan's possessed form did not offer him a breath of respite. With a fluid glide across the flagstones, he unleashed the second move.

"Wind Thunder Palm!"

His hands dissolved into endless fluttering mirages, tearing through the howling wind like phantoms.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

Palm after palm slammed relentlessly against the broad edge of Cui Yongze's weapon with terrifying precision. Each strike detonated with the deafening rumble of summer thunder, sending resonant vibrations rippling along the metal hilt.

A stinging numbness surged through Cui Yongze's wrists, violently paralyzing the qi in his forearms until his fingers nearly dropped the weapon.

A cold, mocking smirk spread across Lin Fan's lips, his voice echoing with arrogant disdain.

"Is this pathetic display all the Young Master of the Black Serpent Sect amounts to? You pranced into my Lin Clan, barking like a ferocious beast, yet your sword feels like a clumsy paperfan held by a brothel whore!"

"Insolent brat!" Cui Yongze shrieked, his pride burning like raw acid. "A crippled waste who survived on pity suddenly sprouts wings and dares to lecture me?! Die!"

Yet beneath his hysterical bellow, cold terror gnawed at Cui Yongze's marrow.

'How is this possible?! This bastard's meridians were destroyed three years ago! His dantian was crippled, no internal energy left! How can his flesh wield such frighteningly pure internal energy?! How can he suppress my martial realm with bare hands?!'

From the edges of the courtyard, hushed whispers from the onlooking disciples and rogue cultivators began to drift into Cui Yongze's ears like venomous needles.

"Heavens... Lin Fan deflected the Crimson Sword Draw with bare palms!"

"Isn't he supposed to be crippled? What kind of terrifying foundation is this?!"

"Young Master Cui is completely on the back foot!"

The praise stung Cui Yongze worse than a poisoned needle. Driven completely mad by the shame, he severed all pretenses of honor.

He leaped back, reached deep into his spatial pouch, and slapped a shimmering silver talisman directly onto the gleaming surface of his sword.

The onlookers gasped, their expressions freezing in sheer dread.

"That's... that's the Three Spirit Sword Talisman!"

"A treasure refined by an elder of the Black Serpent Sect! It harbors the condensed momentum of true sword qi!"

"Lin Fan, get back!"

The talisman ignited into silver ash, soaking into the steel. A terrifying, sharp aura pierced the sky as Cui Yongze let out a crazed, bloodcurdling howl. "Die, you miserable insect! Turn into mincemeat for me!"

*WHOoOSH!*

The sword swung forward, and three translucent, ethereal greatswords congealed out of thin air, each twenty feet long, shrieking as they tore open the fabric of the wind. The sheer pressure cracked the stone beneath their path, radiating a murderous intent that could easily slaughter lesser martial artist just by passing.

Deep within his mindscape, the real Lin Fan felt his soul shudder in cold dread. ' This motherfucker! Even Grandmasters would be gravely injured or torn apart by an attack like this! How can my mortal flesh withstand-'

" Paltry tricks from a backwater monkey," a low chuckle resonated through his throat.

Lin Fan's arms rose, his posture turning as ancient and immovable as an olden mountain. His eyes flashed with a divine, golden-black brilliance as he sneered at the incoming devastation.

'Dragon Subduing Eight Trigrams: Yin Yang Dragon Subduing Palm!'

*ROAAAAR!*

The ambient internal energy of Lin Fan erupted into a raging tempest. Wisps of black and white mist swirled frantically around Lin Fan's torso, coalescing into the massive, ethereal phantom of a coiling dragon. With a majestic swipe of his palms, the ethereal dragon tore through the air, baring majestic fangs as it lunged forward.

*CRUNCH!*

In one savage bite, the ethereal dragon clamped its jaws around the three flying silver sword qi. Under the crowd's horrified gaze, the seemingly invincible talisman strike was ground into glowing silver dust, swallowed whole and crushed into nothingness!

Cui Yongze stood frozen, petrified stiff like a stone statue. "Im... impossible..."

Before the final syllable could leave his trembling lips, the remaining draconic shockwave slammed into his chest like an avalanche.

*BOOOM!*

The blast violently shredded his ornate robes into bloody rags. Cui Yongze was hurled thirty paces across the courtyard, crashing hard against the reinforced granite perimeter wall.

He slid down limp into the rubble, his chest completely caved in, vomiting a thick fountain of clotted blood as the crisp sound of snapping bones echoed across the courtyard.

Silence fell, absolute and suffocating.

Lin Fan stood upright in the center of the devastated courtyard, the wind tossing his soot-stained hair. His gaze swept coldly over the paralyzed disciples of the enemy faction, trembling with horror. Lin Fan's voice boomed with unyielding dominance:

"Listen well, dogs of the Black Serpent Sect! If there is anyone left among you who does not wish to die today, take this crippled dog and get the hell out of the Lin Clan territory!"

The surviving Black Serpent lackeys shivered, so terrified they could barely hold their weapons. But just as they scrambled toward their fallen young master, a deafening, murderous roar tore through the sky, carrying the immense, crushing spiritual pressure of a realm of a Grandmaster.

"Who dares to hurt my son?!"

---

Far away from the mortal bloodshed and screaming vengeance, a serene silence enveloped the rolling grassy plains. Above stretched a vast expanse of clear, endless night sky, dotted with countless glittering constellations and swirling cosmic painting

Jun Tianyun stood peacefully on the soft turf, the midnight breeze gently tugging at the hems of his pristine robes.

Before him hovered a massive, antique bronze cauldron suspended several feet off the ground! the Cosmic Refining Cauldron.

Ethereal, multicolored spiritual flames swirled along its carved dragon reliefs, radiating an ancient, steady warmth that completely masked the ferocious power churning within.

Jun Tianyun's expression was calm, his hand moving with measured grace. He peered closely into the swirling spiritual fire, calculating the delicate balance of temperatures to forge materials.

"The fire is pure, and the spiritual veins are aligned," he mumbled softly under his breath, his eyes flickering with profound insight.

With a slight flick of his fingers, he withdrew a dark, pulsing crimson orb that beat like a living drum, radiating a thick, terrifying wave of primeval malice.

Without an ounce of hesitation, Jun Tianyun casually tossed the Heart Essence of the Fiend straight into the burning mouth of the cauldron.