Yefutidaolu

Chapter 309 Murder

Qin Long eventually escaped.

Like a rat scrambling out of its burrow in terror after being doused with boiling water, he used every ruthless trick his master had taught him—kicking over the scorching furnace to create chaos, scattering blood-stained coins like petals at his pursuers, even crashing through the rotten wooden planks of the tavern's back wall, tumbling and crawling into the howling snowstorm outside. He cared about nothing; his purse, his newly bought fur coat, even the little bit of pride he had just saved up as a "gangster," were all thrown into the muddy ground filled with the stench of cheap liquor, blood, and death.

He took with him only the echo of his master's last roar, and the dark, heavy short sword he gripped tightly in his hand, almost embedded in his palm bone. The wind and snow lashed his face like whips, icy and biting, but nothing compared to the overwhelming chill in his heart.

Master couldn't escape.

Qin Long didn't even dare to turn around. But he heard a sound. It wasn't the sound of fierce fighting—it seemed that people from aristocratic families didn't need to make much noise to fight. He heard an extremely short, extremely suppressed groan, as if something had been forcibly choked in the throat. Then, there was the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the ground, and... a teeth-grinding, rhythmic "thud" sound, like a blunt instrument chopping meat on a chopping board.

Master couldn't escape.

That time, all of Qin Long's 'arrogance,' 'straightforwardness,' and 'chivalry' vanished.

He discovered that he was not a charming assassin.

He once thought of himself as a "swordsman" who braved wind and rain, and a "killer" who took money to solve problems for others.

He had enjoyed the satisfaction of money flowing into his pocket, and felt the twisted pleasure from the awe or fear in the eyes of others. He even fantasized that he might have a bit of "chivalry"—though he was ruthless in killing, he also believed in "doing things for money" and "clear distinction between gratitude and resentment." He felt like he was dancing on a knife's edge, dangerous, yet also with a kind of illusion of controlling his destiny.

He arrogantly believed that death was a fair bargaining chip. He squandered the blood-stained coins of the Divine Dynasty with abandon, thinking they were medals earned through power. Occasionally, when drunk, he would imagine himself as a chivalrous knight in a storybook, fantasizing about his "romantic" act of righting wrongs and leaving without a trace.

until now.

Snow and wind blew into his collar, making his teeth chatter. He lay prone in the cold mud, listening to the symbolic sounds of "blood food" being prepared for a dog behind him, and smelling the sour stench of his own vomit. All his "arrogance" shattered into dust under the dismissive, garbage-like gazes of the aristocratic guards. In their eyes, he and his master were nothing more than two insects that could be crushed at will.

In the eyes of aristocratic families, they are less than a pet dog for amusement!
All the "satisfaction" seemed incredibly ironic in light of those few carelessly discarded, mud-stained coins. That wealth, earned with their lives, was as fragile as a piece of waste paper before absolute power. A young nobleman's simple statement of "being in a bad mood" could easily strip them of everything they possessed, including their lives.

All the "chivalry" became a colossal joke in the face of that utterly absurd reason for the pursuit! Killing is a livelihood, but killing a dog is a capital offense? What kind of rule is that?!

These desperate outlaws struggling at the bottom of society aren't even considered "human"; they're merely filth that can be "cleaned out" at any time by the powerful families. What chivalry? What romance?

For the first time, he realized with such clarity that his master had not lied to him. In the eyes of powerful families, their lives were truly worth less than a dog's.

Everything they had fought so hard for was nothing more than dust that could be wiped away at any time in the face of the absolute power and influence of the aristocratic families.

This time, Gao Jian discovered that the story behind the divine will was exceptionally long, and even not yet finished; it seemed that there were other parts of Qin Long's life to come.

This time, Takami discovered it.

This divine will was not the same kind of determination that Yang Ling unleashed in dire circumstances.

Gao Jian's comprehension ability surpassed that of Jin Dafu and Huang Chengshi. With the blessing of the rusty knife, he almost completely read through the divine intent composition of a Grandmaster of the Two Gates.

Some people's divine will is a belief that erupts during a crucial decision.

Others, however, are defined by the slow, gradual experiences of their own lives.

Qin Long is the latter.

As always, persistent, slow, it grows slowly in the deepest despair and darkness, a divine will concerning one's entire life, which is why it lasts so long.

Qin Long knew his own insignificance, even now that he had reached the level of a Grandmaster of Two Gates.

The ravine was his hiding place, his means of survival, and the 'cave' he sought to live in the dark world after being oppressed by heaven and earth.

Gao Jian realized that the Divine Will Abyss was definitely not as simple as strengthening the physical body! In fact, Gao Jian discovered that this Divine Will was not like his own 'Heaven and Earth Turning Over', which was a Divine Will that could only take effect after being actively activated.

This is a natural, ever-present divine will that surrounds Qin Long as long as he is alive, much like an active and passive skill.

He already had some understanding of Qin Long's power.

But he didn't say it.

A subtle smile appeared on Gao Jian's lips.

Let Jin Dafu and Huang Chengshi have a go; they'll definitely lose if they don't fight with all their might.

After reading Qin Long's expression, Gao Jian had a pretty good idea of ​​why Qin Long was here. He could even be said to be the person who understood Qin Long the most in the world.

Qin Long himself might lie, and those who grew up with him might be mistaken, but divine will would never lie.

On the other side, Qin Long stepped forward, standing between the border post and the skeleton.

The skeleton wanted to continue
The skeleton summoned by Huang Chengshi hesitated for a moment.

This greatly angered Huang Chengshi, and the elder of the Netherworld forcibly commanded the skeleton to continue forward!
His skeleton and feet were made of 'uncorrupted bone'.

There are three types of corpses in the ground: wandering corpses, lying corpses, and uncorrupted bones, none of which have been placed in coffins. Wandering corpses move with the moon's energy, changing with the seasons, without a fixed abode.

Corpses lying prone will remain undecayed for a thousand years, always lying on the ground.

The bones that do not dissolve are the place where a person's spirit was concentrated during their lifetime. Even if the bones are black as jade after entering the ground, they can still cause trouble if they absorb the essence of the sun and moon over time.

Therefore, when a rice carrier dies, his shoulder bones decay later; when a sedan chair carrier dies, his leg bones decay later, because the effort he exerted in life caused his vital energy to accumulate, making him less prone to decay after burial. The same applies to a corpse lying prone; a corpse lying prone, after accumulating vital energy for a long time, becomes a wandering corpse, and after even longer, a flying yaksha.

The Undying Bone is formed from the concentrated spirit of a person in life. Using their old methods, the spirits of millions of people are used as a guide to condense a ghost king with overwhelming resentment and unbelievable malice. This ghost king is then forcibly refined into the earth, and with the help of the earth's veins, the bones and shell are made of underground minerals. Thus, the 'Undying Bone' before our eyes is formed.

That ghost king was also Huang Chengshi's 'half-body', and his cultivation level was the ninth realm.

Of course, it's called half-body, but that's part of the power of the Netherworld. Their true forms are all full of righteous energy, with yang energy soaring to the sky. They cultivate the path of abundant qi and blood, and then use their abundant qi and blood to feed the Ghost King and command the Ghost King to fight.

The Ghost King was almost entirely dependent on the cultivators of the Netherworld, unable to leave, completely controlled, with virtually no ability to resist and no freedom whatsoever.

While cultivators in the Netherworld invest heavily in enslaving the Ghost King, they suffer no loss if the Ghost King dies. In fact, their vitality and blood become even stronger because of the loss of a 'blood-sucking worm,' which is a characteristic of the Netherworld.

Therefore, Huang Chengshi was not worried at all.

Killing the Ghost King is merely the beginning of the second stage. The cultivators of the Netherworld will actually become even stronger after losing the Ghost King.

Of course, there will definitely be losses. To cultivate another Ghost King, the amount of spiritual materials, precious money, and all sorts of resources required will be countless, since this thing is really expensive.

But Huang Chengshi didn't care. Compared to the tens of millions of gold coins brought from the border, plus the possibility of a new Earth Immortal Ancestor being born, a Ghost King was a worthwhile gamble.

In addition, Huang Chengshi also understood that Youmingdi was indeed a super immortal sect, very famous. Anyone in the Divine Dynasty with a little knowledge knew about the characteristics of cultivators from Youmingdi, and he figured that the Yan Pavilion assassin in front of him should also know this.

But even though I know that, how will you deal with it? The techniques and spells of the Netherworld are not something ordinary people can handle, especially with this Grandmaster of Two Gates…

Come, let's test your mettle with a Ghost King Undying Bone.

Huang Chengshi exuded confidence, his hands brimming with resentment, as he commanded the Ghost King Undying Bone to charge forward and kill!

The 'Undying Bone,' forged from millions of resentful thoughts, with bones cast from earth vein minerals, and half of the Yellow Stone Nine Realms Ghost King, stirred up a monstrous resentment and the rumble of the earth veins the moment it moved. Like a mountain collapsing, a ghastly green, malevolent spiritual light blotted out the sky, and a giant claw of withered bones, accompanied by a shrill scream that tore apart the soul, slammed down on Qin Long! The space itself seemed to be distorted and groaning under the weight of this pure resentment.

Huang Chengshi wore a confident smile on his face, as resentment emanating from his fingertips manipulated the puppets like threads.

Faced with this terrifying attack, powerful enough to shatter the souls of even an ordinary ninth-realm cultivator, Qin Long's figure was as insignificant as a speck of dust on a frozen wasteland. He didn't dodge, didn't block, and didn't even raise his eyes to look at the sky-covering bone claws. He merely hunched his body slightly, like a lone wolf cornered with nowhere to retreat, collapsing all his aura, all his vitality, all his icy hatred for this frozen land, for his master's blood feud, and for the contempt he felt for the aristocratic families...inward!
Divine Will 'Abyss'

Time seemed to freeze and stagnate in Qin Long's perception. The devastating torrent of resentment, the deafening howls of ghosts, and the bone claws pressing down like mountains all appeared blurred and distant, as if separated by a thick, silent veil of ice. Only his own existence was compressed to its extreme: his heart pounded like a war drum in a vast abyss, his blood surged like an underground river, and his bones, under extreme pressure, emitted faint, pitiful cries, yet were forcibly forged and tempered into their most brittle form by that icy will!
Pain? No pain. Only fuel.

A body on the verge of collapse? It didn't collapse; it was only forged into a weapon of a unique form.

Fear? Despair? They had long been frozen and ignited by that resolute chill, a chilling sense of mutual destruction, dug from the deepest part of the frozen earth!
He moved.

It wasn't agile maneuvering or a spectacular burst of attacks. His movements were compressed to the most extreme and economical scale—simply thrusting that dark, heavy short sword forward, using his waist as a pivot and the strength generated by every bone in his body forged in the "Abyss" furnace!

The movements were so small they were almost invisible, so fast they surpassed the limits of the naked eye. There was no dazzling sword light, no overwhelming momentum. There was only a line, condensed to the extreme, cold to the extreme, and pure to the extreme!

A sliver of cold light, darker than the deepest crack in the frozen soil and sharper than the loneliest star in the desolate night!
This cold light disregarded the distance of space, the obstruction of the torrent of resentment, and the indestructible skeletal shell of the Undying Bone, forged from earth vein ore. Like a needle of judgment projected by fate itself, it pierced precisely and without hindrance the point between the Undying Bone's brows—the core of a million resentments, where Huang Chengshi's half-body will resided!
"Pfft-"

A faint, almost imperceptible sound, like an ice needle piercing a water sac.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

The massive, blot-of-heavenly skeletal claw, only three feet from Qin Long's head, suddenly froze in mid-air. Its ghastly green, malevolent light flickered wildly, like a candle in the wind. The colossal, mountain-like skeleton of the Undying Bone trembled violently, emitting a sickening "crackling" sound, as if countless ores were crumbling inside. The malevolent soul fire burning in its hollow eye sockets dimmed and went out instantly, like an oil lamp being extinguished.

That condensed, cold light not only pierced its core, but also instantly injected and exploded the destructive will within Qin Long's "Deep Abyss" divine will—which had collapsed to the extreme, burned to the extreme, and turned to the extreme—like billions of invisible icicles, into the deepest part of its aggregate of resentment!

Millions of innocent souls? Before him, they are nothing more than scattered sand piled into a tower, crumbling at the slightest touch.

The Nine Realms Ghost King's enormous body and immense power became a slow and clumsy burden!
“Rumble——!!!”

The massive, unyielding body of the Undying Bone collapsed like a sandcastle stripped of its supports! Its solid mineral bones shattered inch by inch, turning into dust that filled the sky. The earth's ley line power within it dissipated uncontrollably, like an earth dragon turning over. The overwhelming resentment, having lost its core, emitted countless shrill howls of unwilling despair, yet it scattered and dissipated like headless flies, ultimately transforming into a wisp of black smoke carrying a foul, eerie wind, which was swept away by the cold winds of the wasteland.

All that remained was a deep pit and scattered fragments of ore, devoid of any remaining luster.

Qin Long remained in that slightly hunched posture with his short sword pointed forward, as if he had never moved.

His gaze swept across the snow-covered wasteland, reaching further into the direction where powerful families held sway. His eyes were as calm as a dead man's, devoid of the joy of victory, only filled with a profound and icy silence.

Huang Chengshi gritted his teeth!

But the next moment, Qin Long's body, which had paused slightly, moved again.

Immortality was never his goal! He wanted to kill!
(End of this chapter)