Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

The Vajra Pestle and the fragments of the divine diagram shone brightly, and a dark yet intense stream of light burst forth. The array spirit, which had been hidden in the void and was almost untouchable, silently disintegrated and turned into specks of stardust the instant the stream of light passed by.

Impossible! The Liu family patriarch's pupils shrank sharply, his Adam's apple bobbed, and for the first time, a crack appeared in the composure on his face—his proud killing formation had been broken so easily.

Lin Daochen tucked the map into his robes, his expression as indifferent as frost. With a flick of his fingertips, several wisps of black energy silently swept away the scattered heads, repositioning them according to the Heavenly Ghost Secret Technique. A chilling wind suddenly rose, the night so thick it seemed impenetrable, as if a colossal shadow was slowly opening its eyes in the darkness.

The Liu family patriarch's heart sank slightly, and doubts surged within him. He had confirmed that Lin Daochen was a cultivator of ghosts, but the other party neither denied nor defended himself, simply standing quietly like a wordless monument—how many things were hidden behind the monument, no one could understand.

Lin Daochen stood amidst the mountain of corpses, blood still wet beneath his feet, his tattered robe billowing in the wind. He hadn't fled here to save his life; he had come treading on the bones for a scheme that had been laid long ago, for a name that even the Liu family's records dared not mention.

A withered human head suddenly rose from his palm, its shrill scream echoing through the heavens and earth. This man had once been a guardian deity personally appointed by the Heavenly Dao, but now his skull was cracked, his soul scattered, leaving only a mournful sob resounding across the desolate wasteland. Lin Daochen lowered his gaze, his eyes devoid of emotion, only a chilling desolation—in his eyes, life and death were merely marks etched in a different form.

The onlookers' throats were dry and their palms were sweating. These weren't cultivators; they were clearly judges of death crawling out of the deepest hell, showing no mercy to life.

The Liu family patriarch's knuckles clenched so tightly they turned white, and a vein throbbed slightly on his forehead. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt: there was no arrogance, no ferocity in Lin Daochen's eyes, only an almost pious stubbornness. He wasn't a madman; he was an eagle eyeing its prey, so still it was chilling.

"What is the purpose of your visit?" The ancestor finally spoke, his voice taut and strained, like a bow stretched to its limit.

Lin Daochen scoffed, turned and left, not even sparing a glance. His goal was beyond the comprehension of these people. It was something more mysterious than the sea of ​​mist, deeper than an ancient tomb.

One after another, heads rose from his palms, each retaining a lingering aura of power and intimidating presence. But when one of the heads, with its gray hair, bushy beard, and crescent moon mark on its forehead, revealed its true form, the entire arena fell silent—the Ancestor Guang'an! The supreme ancestral spirit that the Liu family had worshipped for a thousand years!

Guang An… how could this be…? The old ancestor murmured in disbelief, his lips turning white and his vision blurring. He had long known that Lin Daochen was strong, but he never expected that even that ancient being who sat deep in the misty sea and whom even those in the Heavenly Sensing Realm had to look up to would become his spoils of war.

Lin Daochen's identity became increasingly mysterious, and the old ancestor was constantly alarmed, but he still maintained his dignity and asked in a cold voice: You, have you been to the Fog Sea?

Lin Daochen didn't stop walking, only turning half his face to the side, his smile faint and unreadable. That unspoken answer was more chilling than any words.

At that very moment, Lin Daochen suddenly spun around and hurled the head violently into the array of human heads that were coiled in mid-air. The array trembled violently, and the sky seemed to emit a low groan, with the clouds churning like a wounded beast.

What kind of evil formation is this? The Liu family patriarch's heart tightened as he watched helplessly as heads were swallowed up by the formation's light, silently disappearing, leaving only a wisp of green smoke drifting away.

A sharp glint flashed in Lin Daochen's eyes—he was indeed pursuing a more ferocious and primal power, and the roots of that power were deeply embedded in the skulls of these top experts.

As soon as the head of the Guang'an Ancestor entered the formation, it was sucked in by Lin Daochen's open mouth! The entire formation trembled violently, the mountains tilted slightly, the grass and trees fell silent, even the wind froze in mid-air, and the air was filled with a strange aura of rust and decay.

The cultivators gasped in shock at the sight of Guang An Ancestor's head; this was far beyond anyone's expectations.

The Liu family patriarch's pupils constricted sharply, and his whole body stiffened—he recognized him; the cinnabar mole between his brows and the three old scars on his forehead were undoubtedly the true form of the Guang'an patriarch! A chill ran straight to the top of his head, his mind buzzed, and his thoughts nearly collapsed. Lin Daochen, however, did not stop at all, only feeling the blood energy surging like a tide within the formation, and his power rising steadily.

Even with dozens of powerful heads as a guide, the form of the Heavenly Demon still failed to materialize.

How could this be? Lin Daochen frowned slightly, but there was no frustration in his eyes. He pulled out another withered and blackened head with his other hand. In an instant, thunderous sounds rolled across the sky, and the heavens and earth trembled!

The Liu family patriarch's eyes widened, and his throat tightened—Patriarch Fuyun! That peak existence who once held the laws of the three continents! This head completely confirmed the truth of the fall of those powerful figures.

His eyes suddenly turned cold, and a deep doubt arose in his heart: Lin Daochen? With his cultivation level, how could he possibly have killed Ancestor Fuyun? It was probably done by some reclusive giant of the Blood Palace. This kid just picked up the easy way out and basked in the blood.

"Youngster, who do you think you are? Do you really think you can walk around like a madman just because you have Ancestor Fuyun's head on your shoulders?" Ancestor Liu's voice was like an ice pick striking the ground, full of contempt, and he did not really regard Lin Daochen as a threat.

Lin Daochen merely smiled calmly, his expression almost indifferent. He never cared what the world thought of him; the patriarch's murderous intent did not stir even the slightest thought of retreat in him.

"Your words sound like you're defending Ancestor Fuyun." His tone was calm, but every word was barbed. "He blocked my path and blocked my opportunities. He deserves to die a clean break."

The Liu family patriarch snorted coldly, dismissing Lin Daochen's bluff as mere bravado. In his eyes, Lin was nothing more than a brat with powerful backers. He said no more, flicking his sleeves, his killing intent surging like a tide—today, he would personally tear away this facade.

Facing the sharp killing intent, Lin Daochen's lips curled slightly. Far from being afraid, his blood warmed, and his fighting spirit quietly rose.

"Since the patriarch doesn't believe it, why not try it yourself?" He raised his eyes and looked directly at her, his voice not loud, but like a drum beating against the heart, "Let me also weigh just how tough the Liu family patriarch's bones really are."

Before he could finish speaking, the ancestor had already transformed into a blur, so fast that he tore through the air and instantly appeared before Lin Daochen! The water blade in his hand flashed with cold light as he slashed horizontally. Wherever the blade passed, the water vapor condensed into a tangible blade aura, chillingly cleaving the sky.

Lin Daochen's eyes sharpened, and instead of retreating, he advanced, his Vajra Pestle fiercely blocking from below! Boom—the metal exploded with a clang, the shockwave sending rubble flying ten feet away, and the ground cracking like a spider web.

"You've got some nerve," the old patriarch sneered, his eyes full of mockery. "Unfortunately, in front of me, you're not even as small as an ant."

Lin Daochen stood still, yet his aura was as imposing as a deep pool and a towering mountain, his very breath making the surrounding air feel heavy, as if the entire world was holding its breath for him.

Suddenly, his figure blurred, leaving only an afterimage in his original position—the old ancestor's eyelids twitched, and before he could react, the man had vanished without a trace.

"A mere trick." He sneered, his divine sense spreading out like a net, instantly locking onto Lin Daochen's teleportation trajectory and giving chase!

But the moment he stepped into that void, a scorching, pungent aura of blood rushed towards him! A burst of red light erupted before his eyes, and a towering blood array rose from the ground, its blood waves surging and devouring him like living creatures!

What kind of ghost formation is this? The ancestor was terrified and hurriedly activated his magic power, trying to break free of the formation—but the spiritual power in his body was like a mud ox entering the sea, stagnant and difficult to move!

Lin Daochen stood outside the formation, hands behind his back, a cold glint in his eyes: "This is the Blood Sea Formation that I personally crafted. Ancestor, do not be presumptuous."

……

Within the formation, blood surged and a foul wind swept across the ground. The ancestor felt his limbs were heavy and his spiritual energy flowed with difficulty, as if he were trapped in a quagmire.

Lin Daochen gave him no chance to catch his breath. The Demon-Subduing Pestle, carrying immense force and accompanied by the sound of wind and thunder, struck straight at the heart of the enemy!

The ancestor gritted his teeth and sneered, his water blade slashing upwards, its tip gleaming coldly, as it met the thunderous strike head-on—the two weapons collided, the explosion tearing through eardrums, the aftershocks causing the array walls to flash with bloody light!

"Kid, you should stop here after all this hopping around." The old ancestor curled his lips, a chilling aura emanating from him. The water blade in his palm suddenly exploded, transforming into a dense web of silver threads that tightly gripped and constricted Lin Daochen's attacks.

Just as the water net was stretched to its tightest point, Lin Daochen suddenly unleashed the Exquisite Pagoda!

The tower soared into the air, its seven-colored light cascading like molten gold, as if the entire tower had come alive, standing majestically like a divine barrier, unshakeable. The moment the ancestor's water blade touched the tower wall, it sizzled and exploded, sending up plumes of white steam—it wasn't blocked, but rather burned through and corroded!

What kind of evil magic weapon is this?!

The old ancestor's pupils contracted sharply, his throat tightened, and the color drained from his face instantly. He never expected that this young upstart would be carrying something so powerful that it could burn through the true energy of the Water Spirit.

Lin Daochen ceased his fighting, and with a flick of his sleeve, he transformed into a streak of light, rushing straight towards the location of the Liu family patriarch. The patriarch roared in anger and gave chase, but was cut off in half by a rainbow beam descending from the pagoda, unable to advance an inch.

You...you're asking for it!

The old ancestor's temples throbbed with veins, and his chest churned with turmoil—only then did he realize that he had underestimated this kid from beginning to end.

On the battlefield, the exquisite pagoda hummed and trembled, its seven-colored light flickering like breath. Suddenly, the pagoda shook, and golden light exploded, blinding everyone! When they looked again, the face of the Liu family patriarch was contorted, and a dark, heavy longsword had pierced through his right palm—blood dripping from the tip of the sword, hanging over his wrist.

Old Master Liu, your life is truly miserable.

A dark figure emerged from the tower, stepping on light—it was Yang Kai of the Blood Hall. He slightly raised the tip of his sword, glancing sideways at the other's pale face, his tone lazy yet every word sharp: "About the Bei Ming Qinghe affair... I even made a copy of your handwriting when you changed your confession in the middle of the night."

The Liu family patriarch's eyes were bloodshot, blood gushing from the wound on his shoulder, and excruciating pain pierced his very brain. How could he have imagined being stabbed in the back at such a critical moment; even less could he have imagined that the one wielding the blade was none other than the Blood Palace, that venomous python that had lurked there for so many years!

Those scum from the Blood Hall dare to interfere in the affairs of my Liu family?!

He roared and slapped the pagoda with his backhand, trying to crush it with the pressure of the Heavenly Sense—but when his palm struck the pagoda, it was like a mud ox entering the sea, not even causing a ripple.

Yang Kai chuckled, his figure suddenly blurring, like smoke and mist, and in the blink of an eye, he had vanished a hundred feet away. The Liu family patriarch gritted his teeth and chased after him, but felt his dantian weaken, his magical power stagnating as if blocked by mud, and he even swayed three times while taking off.

Lin Daochen stood still, coldly scanning the entire scene. This performance made him reassess the Blood Hall's importance—it wasn't an exaggeration of the rumors, but rather that they were more daring and aggressive than the rumors suggested.

Master, this old dog's face is really asking for a beating.