Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1460 - 780: The Devil Is in the Details

Upon glancing once more, the swordsman was already clutching his arm, sprawled across the ground, howling in agony.

Without anyone noticing, the long blade had somehow appeared in Zhao Sheng's grip.

"Ah, this one's tricky, let's all go at once!" The faces of the other swordsmen twisted in shock at the sight. Following a shout from one of them, seven swordsmen sealed off the front and rear, clutching their long blades, gradually encircling Zhao Sheng.

"Young Master, please don't draw the sword. You've only just recovered from a grave illness and mustn't get injured once more. How about we toss some silver and purchase some peace?" Spotting the dire situation, Chen San broke out in a cold sweat and quickly called out.

With those words, he rushed forward in an attempt to grab the long blade from the Young Master's hold.

No one could have foreseen what happened next; in a blur, he lunged and missed entirely.

When he looked back at the scene, Zhao Sheng was already within the encirclement, the long blade tilted toward one foe, appearing completely at ease, paying no mind to the seven swordsmen at all.

"Damn it, kill him!" Unable to endure the taunt, one swordsman clenched the hilt fiercely and slashed wildly at Zhao Sheng's head.

Zhao Sheng dodged nimbly to the side, gliding beside the man, then lightly raised the long blade, positioning its edge level.

A soft puff echoed as the swordsman threw himself onto the blade, a deep slash erupting across his throat, blood spraying out and instantly drenching his garments.

Wuwu!

The swordsman let his blade fall, pressing both hands to his neck, his face twisted in horror, whimpering without control.

He lurched forward two steps before his form slackened, crumpling to the ground, convulsing briefly before ceasing to breathe.

Aaah!

Witnessing this, the remaining swordsmen swiftly lifted their long blades and roared as they charged in unison.

Swish swish swish!

Six long blades hacked down together, their sword light pale and lethal, weaving a deadly net around Zhao Sheng.

Right when it appeared he would be torn apart by the frenzy of blades, Zhao Sheng calmly shifted his stance, astonishingly slipping through an opening and evading the strikes with ease.

In the same instant, he swung the long blade leisurely, its tip carving an unbelievable path, rapidly slicing across the throats of all six.

Pop pop pop...

Blood spurted from the six as they gripped their necks desperately, their faces shrouded in despair and fright.

Moments later, the six swordsmen toppled onto the street, staining a wide swath of the pavement with crimson.

Chen San stood frozen at the spectacle, suddenly viewing his Young Master as a total stranger, like someone entirely transformed.

Zhao Sheng shook the blood from the blade, then abruptly faced the alley mouth with a faint grin, declaring, "The underlings are dead, time for the boss to show himself!"

His words barely ended when a burst of clapping rang out from the alley entrance.

Moments later, a sturdy, muscular man emerged from the shadows, applauding steadily as he approached with a grin.

"Fellow Daoist, your abilities are remarkable, I sincerely admire them!" The burly man halted three zhang distant, gazing at Zhao Sheng with clear appreciation as he commented.

Zhao Sheng's grin vanished; in a grave tone, he demanded, "Blood has been spilled, so the blade in my grasp won't return to its sheath lightly. If you, sir, fail to offer a fitting account today, don't fault me for wielding it mercilessly."

At these words, the burly man's tension eased right away.

Truth be told, he had no desire to clash recklessly with this powerful, mysterious adversary.

He had to concede his error; he hadn't anticipated the "young master" harboring such exceptional martial prowess.

Through his keen sight, it was plain that the man opposite was frail in body, yet with his stunning blade work alone, he dispatched eight knife-wielding swordsmen of a decade's training without effort.

This was precisely what they meant by skill approaching the Dao!

Though the burly man trusted his own techniques, against this opponent, he wouldn't dare assume triumph lightly.

Likewise, Zhao Sheng remained cautious; he had no wish to tangle with the burly man, whose power was unclear and who might harbor some hidden, deadly technique.

After a brief reflection, the burly man drew an item from his chest and set it down on the ground.

"Fate brought this to me, take it as my apology?"

Zhao Sheng peered closely at the words, spotting a fist-sized White Jade Cup, standing three inches tall. Its surface bore sixteen ancient, complex runes, unmistakably Immortal Seal Dao Patterns.

"Very well, I'll take this gesture of goodwill," Zhao Sheng's gaze flickered as he nodded and replied, "Farewell, no need to see me out!"

"Hold on." The burly man spoke up quickly, "I, Su Heihu, seek to build a strong bond with you. How about we ally, support one another, and aim to return to the Lower Realm swiftly? What say you, Fellow Daoist?"

Hmm, what an appealing idea?

Zhao Sheng accepted without hesitation, responding, "Excellent, I am Zhao Gongzhu, may I inquire your honorable name?"

"I am Su Heihu, Hall Master of the Black Tiger Hall at present." The burly man saluted with cupped hands as he introduced himself.

...

In little time, the burly man pivoted and departed, vanishing swiftly at the alley's end.

Now, Chen San approached hesitantly, asking in a timid whisper, "Young Master, you... what's with this 'Fellow Daoist' talk?"

Earlier, his Young Master had repeatedly addressed the other as Fellow Daoist. Even the Black Tiger Hall Master had referred to himself in that manner.

Chen San felt completely baffled, unable to grasp the meaning behind it.

Above all, the Young Master had altered so profoundly, almost like a spirit had taken hold, rendering him wholly unrecognizable!

"Chen San, certain matters are beyond what you should know, so best to erase them from memory. None of today's occurrences can reach a third ear. For our master-servant bond, I spare you needless death. Clear?" Zhao Sheng stated, his expression chilling and voice detached.

Chen San eyed the long blade in the Young Master's grasp, trembling violently, and bobbed his head wildly in panic, "Got it! San'er swears to wipe today's events from mind. Young Master, spare my life, please!"

"There's no cause for me to end you without reason. Stand properly and come with me to the estate."

With that, Zhao Sheng hooked the White Jade Cup onto the blade, ripped a strip of cloth, wrapped it securely, and tucked it into his chest.

Then, he added reflectively, "Head back ahead of me."

Chen San froze, longing to speak but too afraid to utter a word, reduced to watching the Young Master stride away.

After a dazed pause, Chen San recovered, fixing his gaze on the bodies littering the ground, his lips quivering in terror:

"Corpses, actual corpses! Slain by the Young Master himself—what do I do?

Right! I need to alert the master at once, right away—" Chen San panicked inwardly, mumbling to himself, whirling about in haste toward the Zhao Mansion.

...

The river wound gracefully, its waters sparkling pure, as a modest black-canopied vessel eased toward the dock.

Zhao Sheng boarded the deck, directing the boatman to launch toward the Ten Kings Temple beyond the town.

The black-canopied boat drifted steadily from the bank, gliding along the river course into the town's fringes.

Seated beneath the bamboo canopy, Zhao Sheng hid his presence on purpose. He began sorting through his reflections.

Soon after the killings, a chillingly precise notion struck him.

Namely: certain "other Fellow Daoists" he'd encountered before might not have stepped into the Sky-reaching White Tower of late.

They could have entered a decade prior, or two, or far longer ago.

"He" or "they" had undergone hundreds or thousands of reincarnations within Mingxi Town, oblivious to the truth.

Yet Zhao Sheng stood as the sole outlier!