CHAPTER 130: CHAPTER 130: THE ROAR OF QIANLONG

The Qianlong wilderness slept beneath a bruised sky, its ridges and ravines exhaling mist that glowed faintly in the dusk light. Crags shaped like sleeping dragons loomed over the valley, and the air trembled faintly with hidden spiritual veins. Wind hissed through razor grass and the scent of iron drifted from where fresh blood soaked into the soil.

Lightning whispered along the horizon. ~Crk... crk...~

At the valley’s center, three cultivators clashed with such ferocity that the wilderness itself seemed to hold its breath. Each strike, each counter, tore gouges into the ground and scattered shards of glowing qi like fireflies.

Hang Feng roared, his saber aura spilling outward in crimson arcs. His veins pulsed like molten rivers beneath his skin, his body vibrating with the manic energy of wounded pride.

[4th move of the Tyrant Saber Art – Battle Tyrant Slash!]

The saber’s edge cleaved through air and stone alike, leaving behind trails of shimmering gold-red energy that licked the ground like living flame. Each swing was both desperation and defiance—a scream against humiliation.

"You elderly fool!" he bellowed again, veins bulging at his temples. "You think your age grants you wisdom? It only makes your fall more pitiful!"

The air exploded. ~BOOM!~

Bing Cao slid backward through the dust, robes in tatters, the mark of the saber having torn a furrow across his forearm. Blood glistened like rubies beneath the stormlight, yet his eyes burned cold and clear.

"So much power... wasted on a tantrum," Bing Cao murmured. His palms began to glow faintly—one blue, one white.

[3rd move of the Cloud Monarch Palm Art – Sky Quake Palm!]

His strike met Hang Feng’s next slash head-on. Palm force collided with saber qi; the world went white. Stones shattered, trees snapped, and the ground sank by several feet.

~BOOM—BOOM—CRACK!~

"Damn you both!" cried Yuan Yi from a distance, shielding her face from the howling winds. "Are you trying to tear the heavens open?"

Through the chaos, she could feel the distortion of qi—the flow around Hang Feng was warping, twisting. His aura flickered wildly between crimson and black. A dangerous sign.

"His Battle Path foundation is unraveling..." she whispered.

Indeed, Hang Feng’s breathing had turned ragged, his pupils contracting into pinpoints. A mist of haze clung to his saber.

Then, the earth itself darkened.

[Battle Path Secret Technique – Final Stand]

The valley trembled as a column of yellow-light erupted skyward, its reflection staining the clouds orange. The force was suffocating—every rock, every leaf, every living thing was pressed beneath the weight of it.

"Mo Li! Get back!" Bing Cao commanded sharply, thrusting out a hand.

Mo Li barely obeyed before the Red Flood descended. It fell like a hammer of divine punishment, smashing through Bing Cao’s hastily erected barrier.

~BOOOOM—!~

The shockwave hurled her backward. Pain lanced up her arms as she hit the ground, rolling to a stop amid shards of glowing stone. She gasped, the metallic tang of blood flooding her tongue.

Bing Cao’s voice echoed faintly through the storm of crimson light.

[5th move of the Cloud Monarch Palm Art – Sky and Earth Union!]

Palms crossed before him, he unleashed a cascade of strikes, each palm shadow birthing another until the valley was filled with hundreds of them. They converged, forming a spinning cyclone that met the Red Flood mid-descent.

~Whrrrhhhhh...!~

The clash created a vortex so powerful the clouds above began to twist, funneling inward. For a breathless instant, all three combatants hung suspended between heaven and earth, their qi colliding like colliding stars.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the blood tide broke apart, raining crimson mist across the wilderness.

Hang Feng coughed violently, blood spurting from his lips. Yet his laughter rang out, cracked but triumphant.

"Hahaha! Old ghost! You may block me once, but can you block the next?!"

He leapt forward, the saber trembling with new malice.

[1st move of the Tyrant Saber Art – Overlapping Slash!]

The technique burst forth in a chain—one strike splitting into three, three into nine. The air screamed under the onslaught.

Bing Cao’s vision blurred. He could parry the first, maybe the second, but not all. His qi reserves were waning; his palms trembled.

"Enough!" Mo Li’s cry split the air. Her delicate form darted in front of him like a streak of moonlight.

"Mo Li—no!"

The blade was already descending. She raised her hands, summoning a pale jade light.

[Spirit Thread Technique – Lotus Veil!]

A barrier of woven spiritual silk bloomed before her, its surface rippling with lotus petals of light. Hang Feng’s saber crashed against it with the force of an avalanche.

~CLANGGG!~

The veil held—for a heartbeat. Then it shattered, the recoil hurling her backward into Bing Cao’s arms.

"Foolish girl!" Hang Feng snarled, pressing forward. "You chase death like a moth to flame!"

His aura surged, each heartbeat feeding the inferno of his blood qi. The saber rose once more, arcs of energy writhing around him like serpents.

Bing Cao clenched his teeth, pulling Mo Li behind him. "If you wish for death, Hang Feng," he said, voice steady even through his exhaustion, "then step forward and claim it."

The elder’s qi shifted—subtle but immense. The pressure that had been waning suddenly roared back, deeper and purer than before.

Hang Feng’s grin faltered. "You—what did you do?"

Bing Cao’s eyes opened fully, revealing a faint golden radiance. "You mistake restraint for weakness. Let me teach you the difference."

[Forbidden Technique – Monarch’s Last Restraint!]

The wilderness erupted. A blinding pillar of light shot skyward, splitting clouds. Within its core, Bing Cao moved like a phantom—each step leaving behind an echo of golden mist. His palms struck, not with fury, but inevitability.

Hang Feng’s defenses shattered one by one. His saber bent beneath the force. The ground beneath him fractured, swallowing his stance.

"Impossible—"

The final palm struck his chest.

~THOOM!~

A shockwave spread through the valley, flattening grass for leagues. The blood mist dispersed at last, devoured by purer qi.

Hang Feng staggered, coughing up a great spray of crimson. He looked down in disbelief at the palm print burning into his torso.

"Defeated... again...?" he rasped.

Bing Cao lowered his hands slowly, his expression unreadable. "No victory without purpose is worth the cost."

Hang Feng’s knees buckled. He collapsed to the earth, the saber clattering beside him. Its glow dimmed, flickering like a dying star.

Silence returned to the Qianlong wilderness.

Only the whisper of wind through shattered reeds broke it.

Mo Li knelt beside her mentor, tears streaking her cheeks. "Master... you...?"

"I am whole," Bing Cao said softly. His face was pale, but his eyes shone with quiet pride. "He will live. His death will not solve anything."

Mo Li turned toward the fallen Hang Feng, whose breaths came ragged but steady. She could not tell whether pity or fear stirred in her heart.

Above them, the thunder rolled once more. ~Rrrmmbl...~

From the shadows beyond the ridge, another figure stepped forth—Li Wuji, the man in black robes. His gaze swept the devastated valley, unreadable.

"So, the fool was not up to the task," he murmured. "How many times must mortals fail to meet simple expectations?" Li Wuji had hoped Hang Feng would put up a better fight considering the way he was running his mouth, but like most things in life, it was not meant to be.

Bing Cao’s eyes narrowed. "If you came to gloat, spare me the trouble of silencing you."

Li Wuji smiled faintly. "No, elder. I am making a few observations." His eyes flickered toward Hang Feng’s unconscious form. "That one’s fury will serve the heavens yet. Perhaps... under different guidance."

Mo Li shivered. "What do you mean by that?" But the man merely turned, his form already fading into mist. "The Qianlong wilderness remembers all who shed blood beneath its stars," his voice whispered, vanishing with the wind. "And it never forgets a debt."

Bing Cao stood long after he had gone, staring toward the horizon where lightning still danced among the peaks. "Audacious," he murmured, half to himself. "To leave a comrade for dead is simply too ruthless."

He turned to Mo Li, his tone gentler. "Come, child. This battle is over. But the storm it awakens has only begun." Together they lifted Hang Feng’s broken body and began the slow walk toward the distant glow of the nearby checkpoint.

Above, the clouds parted just enough for a single sliver of moonlight to fall upon the valley floor, where the saber lay abandoned in the dirt.

Its blade quivered faintly.

Somewhere deep within it, a pulse of blood-red light flickered once—then went still.

~Thum...~