Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 99 Madman
Chu Ning gripped Shen Yan's arm tightly, his steps as firm as iron, crushing the blue bricks with each step leaving deep marks.

On the long street, the bustling crowds quietly came to a standstill.

All the people subconsciously made way for him, as if silently clearing a path for a god returning from the Thunder Prison.

Chu Ning walked in the center of the crowd, each step like a thunderclap, making the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect break out in a cold sweat and feel a chill run down their spines.

They knew in their hearts that the white-haired, green-robed youth before them could turn this street into a river of blood with just a thought.

Just as the two were about to cross the long street, a cacophony of shouts and the clash of swords suddenly erupted from inside the gate of the Hanshan Sect's headquarters.

Immediately afterwards, dozens of guards from the Cold Mountain Sect swarmed out, their blades flashing coldly, their aura menacing, blocking their path.

The leader roared, his voice like a hammer striking the ground:

"Who dares to trespass on the territory of the Cold Mountain Sect?"

"Surrender immediately and kneel down to beg for forgiveness! Otherwise, you will be killed without mercy!"

The voices rolled on and on, like the clashing of drums and horns.

Upon hearing the shout, Shen Yan trembled violently, his eyes filled with pain, fear, and despair.

He desperately tried to speak, wanting to stop Chu Ning from continuing forward.

But just then, he heard the voice of the young man beside him, calm and cold, like countless thunderbolts suppressed beneath the clouds, ready to shatter the sky at any moment:

"I need to bring people with me."

"Those who block my way shall die."

The four words, spoken, were like a divine decree, shaking people's hearts.

On the street, onlookers gasped and backed away.

The guards from the Cold Mountain Sect looked at each other, and for a moment, none of them dared to make the first move.

Chu Ning supported Shen Yan, his white hair like snow, lightning swirling around him, his eyes reflecting rolling dark clouds like distant thunder, making everyone breathless.

Among the guards of the Cold Mountain Sect, one of them gritted his teeth, stepped forward, and shouted sharply:

"No matter how strong you are, you're still just one person. You dare to oppose the Cold Mountain Sect? You're courting death!"

However, he didn't finish his sentence.

Chu Ning took a slight step, and a flash of lightning appeared on his shoulder.

The Snow-Breaking Blade was drawn half an inch from its sheath.

"Crack!"

A soft sound.

The next moment, the head of the Cold Mountain Sect guard flew high into the air, and blood splattered onto the ground like a fountain.

Even before the body fell to the ground, a chilling killing intent filled the air.

Chu Ning slowly sheathed his sword, his gaze calm as a mirror, yet seemingly able to reflect the fear of all living beings.

I'll only say it once.

"Give Way."

"Or, be buried with them."

The voice wasn't loud, but it struck like thunder.

In an instant, all the guards of the Cold Mountain Sect turned pale, as if they had fallen into an ice cellar.

No one dared to stand in their way anymore.

The road, stained red with blood, stretched slowly out beneath Chu Ning and Shen Yan's feet, as if it had been paved specifically for them.

The wind howled through the blood-soaked path, and killing intent surged like a tide.

Chu Ning supported Shen Yan with one hand, his steps steady, as if each step he took was stepping on everyone's hearts, making them feel suffocated.

The guards of the Cold Mountain Sect looked at each other in fear, sweat dripping down their temples, but none of them dared to take a step forward.

The air seemed to have frozen into ice.

Just then, several furious roars suddenly came from deep within the inner courtyard of the Hanshan Sect.

Immediately afterwards, a series of strong winds howled in, and a group of martial artists dressed in the robes of the Cold Mountain Sect elders broke through the air and arrived, their air waves surging like a raging tide sweeping across the long street.

The leader, dressed in a purple-gold robe with a gilded whip at his waist, had eagle-like eyes and an imposing presence.

Xu Wei, the second elder of the Hanshan Sect.

His aura was as vast as the sea, and his ninth-grade superior cultivation erupted without reservation, like Mount Tai pressing down, intending to crush the invaders with a single blow.

Xu Wei glanced coldly at them, then roared thunderously:

"Audacious madman."

With each step he took, the floor tiles shattered, kicking up clouds of dust.

The long street trembled, and the people cried out in alarm, scattering and fleeing.

Xu Wei's gaze sharpened like a blade as he locked onto Chu Ning, and he roared:
"Release them? Wishful thinking. Without the blood of these lowly people, how could the Cold Mountain Sect establish itself in Qingzhou?"

The sound was like rolling thunder, echoing across the entire field!
The moment the words were spoken, the remaining disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect mustered their remaining courage and launched a fierce attack.

Upon hearing this, Chu Ning slowly turned around, his expression as indifferent as an eternal thunderclap.

His voice was calm, yet it sounded like a divine voice rolling out from the Thunder Prison:

"To eke out a living by crushing the bones of the innocent?"

"Surviving by sucking the blood and flesh of slaves?"

"Is this your lineage?"

"The Cold Mountain Sect?"

"Today, I will make this decaying and cracked mountain collapse completely!"

He gently placed Shen Yan on the stone steps. Shen Yan trembled all over, his eyes filled with blood and tears, his teeth clenched tightly, as if as long as this figure was still there, he had nothing to fear.

Chu Ning slowly stood up.

His black robe was adorned with swirling lightning patterns, his white hair brushed against his face, and his figure stood proudly and aloof like a mountain.

Chu Ning slowly gripped the hilt of the knife with his five fingers, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure, and lightning patterns quietly climbed from his palm to the spine of the Broken Snow Blade.

The air seemed to tighten, and the next moment, the blade flashed out.

"boom."

A cold glint flashed from the sheath, and the heavens and earth seemed to be torn open in an instant, leaving a long gash.

Lightning burst forth from the blade, like a celestial river pouring down, instantly engulfing the long street.

It was merely a flash of light.

Before the guards of the Cold Mountain Sect could even react, they were blown away by the violent lightning force, crashing through the walls like falling leaves, bricks and tiles flying everywhere, and dust filling the sky.

The long street trembled, the ground cracked, and the fissures spread for dozens of feet.

The biting wind, whipped with lightning, chilled everyone to the bone, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Xu Wei's expression changed drastically, his eyes widening in shock. He felt as if an invisible net of lightning was woven from all sides, pressing down on him, making his bones creak and his blood run cold.

My chest tightened, and my heart clenched.

"This power... how is this possible!"

This was a sense of oppression he had never experienced before.

That boy, who clearly looked to be only ten years old, was like a born thunder god, holding the power of life and death in his hands.

Chu Ning simply sheathed his sword quietly.

His movements were relaxed, as if it were nothing more than a flick of his sleeve.

All the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect around him turned pale and trembled, barely daring to look Chu Ning in the eye.

The reputation, dignity, and so-called prestige of the Hanshan Sect were shattered to pieces by the young man's single blade at this moment.

A biting wind howled, and crimson lightning illuminated the entire street.

Chu Ning walked forward step by step, his footsteps like thunderclaps, striking the hearts of everyone present.

Beside him, Shen Yan was being supported by him. His tattered robes were already stained with blood, but he was still clutching the greasy indenture tightly, his eyes filled with tears of blood.

At the end of the street, the gate to the Hanshan Sect's headquarters was half-closed.

Behind the door, countless figures surged about, their blades gleaming coldly, each one locked onto Chu Ning with murderous intent, and the air was thick with an oppressive, pungent stench of blood.

A Cold Mountain Sect deacon roared menacingly:

"Trespassers will be killed without mercy!"

Chu Ning's steps did not stop.

He slowly raised his head, the lightning pattern between his brows throbbing violently, and lightning surging in his eyes, so cold that it seemed as if time itself had frozen.

A deep voice rang out, like rolling thunder:
"Release them, and we'll spare your lives."

"otherwise--"

"die--"

Simply put, just a few words.

Yet it is more terrifying than a thousand troops.

The disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect looked at each other, feeling fear, but they still charged forward despite the steward's angry roar.

Chu Ning's eyes turned cold.

He gently pushed Shen Yan to the corner of the wall by the street, and then slowly took a step forward himself.

The Snow-Breaking Blade hummed as it was drawn from its sheath.

Thunderstorms are raging again.

"boom."

The sword energy swept across, like a ten-thousand-foot thunderous waterfall sweeping up the heavens and earth.

The dozens of Hanshan Sect disciples who rushed to the front were blasted away in a burst of lightning before they could even react.

Blood rained down, and shattered armor and broken soldiers littered the ground.

As the blade flashed down, Chu Ning suddenly saw Qing Li's smile before she disappeared.

"Chu Ning, don't let hatred blind you."

He closed his eyes, and the lightning intensified.

Along the long street, thunder rumbled and blades flashed, each strike leaving a spray of blood and strewn with bones.

Shen Yan stood in the corner, trembling as he looked up.

Looking at the young man who had shielded him from countless dangers, his white hair fluttered, his black clothes billowed, and lightning crackled around him, he was like a lone, courageous god who had broken through the sea of ​​blood from the Thunder Prison of the Nine Heavens.

Tears blurred his vision.

A burning sensation welled up in my chest:
So... there really are people who would go against the entire sect for my sake.

With each step Chu Ning took forward, a group of people from the Cold Mountain Sect fell down.

The surrounding Hanshan Sect disciples were completely devastated. Some dropped their weapons and fled in panic, while others collapsed to the ground, trembling.

The entire outer courtyard of the Cold Mountain Sect had become a bloodbath of thunder and lightning.

Chu Ning kept his eyes straight ahead and stepped into the inner courtyard of the Cold Mountain Sect.

Every step was paved with blood.

His voice was clear and cold, resounding throughout the entire venue:

"Today, there is only one thing to do."

"Let go."

"Dare to stop me—"

"The Cold Mountain Sect is destroyed."

Blood mist filled the air, lightning crackled amidst the ruins, and corpses littered the ground.

The air was thick with the smell of burning and blood, and the setting sun, like blood, cast a desolate light on the sky and earth.

Chu Ning, supporting himself with one hand on the Broken Snow Blade, slowly ventured deeper into the blood-soaked path.

Upon seeing this, the disciples of the Cold Mountain Sect were already terrified and fled in panic, daring not to offer any further resistance.

Shen Yan stumbled along behind, her eyes already red-rimmed.

Just then, deep within the inner courtyard, a dark and dilapidated stone cell came into view.

Inside the cell, it was cold and damp, the iron bars were rusted, and the air was filled with the stench of blood and mold.

Under the dim, broken light, two guards from the Cold Mountain Sect stood with ferocious expressions, cursing and shouting angrily.

"You lowly bastards, what are you crying for? After I've had my fill, I'll sacrifice you all alive to the blood altar!"

One of the guards stepped forward, cursing, and grabbed a thin woman by the collar, as roughly as if he were lifting a rag bag.

The tattered clothes tore open between his fingers with a "rip," revealing the blue and purple whip marks on the woman's shoulder.

The woman was holding a skinny little boy in her arms, so small that a gust of wind could blow him over.

She trembled with fear, desperately shielding her child with her body, her small chest heaving rapidly as if she were about to suffocate.

The guard's eyes gleamed red, and his breathing was heavy, as if he had smelled prey with excitement.

"Hehe, cry, the more you cry, the more excited I get!"

He licked his lips and pinched the woman's neck with his fingers, making a cracking sound.

He stroked the woman's hair, a smile playing on his lips, the whip in his hand never ceasing, as if he were enjoying the "pleasure" of this bloody and humiliating experience.

The woman was already deathly pale, but dared not struggle. She could only sob and plead in a low voice, barely audible.
"Please...please spare the child..."

(End of this chapter)