Chapter 128: Heavy Casualties, Gold Medal Secret Guards, The Plan

Chapter 128: Heavy Casualties, Gold Medal Secret Guards, The Plan

No attempt at stealth—five figures in Xuan Shui Sect’s signature dark long robes surrounded Su Chen, their gazes assessing him even as they took up battle formations.

Though all knew this was Su Chen in disguise, they couldn’t help feeling curious about the man who had slain Hong Qi and shaken Big Feng City.

Now that they saw him, however, he seemed unremarkable—utterly ordinary.

“So it’s the Xuan Shui Sect,” Su Chen narrowed his eyes, recognizing their identities, then chuckled. “You lot really are persistent pests.”

He Qiu stepped forward, his voice sharp. “Su Chen, you’re surrounded. Surrender quietly to avoid bloodshed!”

“Just you five?” Su Chen replied coolly, his expression calm.

“If our four Academy Heads have come personally to capture you,” Head of Flowing Currents Court Hong Xuan Cheng interjected coldly, “you’re the most honored prisoner in Qinzhou. Consider yourself flattered!”

A complex mix of emotions churned within him. During Su Chen’s assessment, he had once considered taking the young man as a disciple—only to be rejected. The humiliation of that refusal now fueled his fury.

“Hmph,” a crisp voice cut through the air. A Black-Cloaked Man leapt from the forest, landing beside them.

“You dare interfere?” The five exchanged glances, He Qiu’s face darkening. Had their intelligence been wrong? Was Su Chen not alone?

“Enough,” Head of Muddy Veil Academy Hong Zhen Dong waved dismissively. “Whether it’s one or two, they’ll both be captured.”

The Black-Cloaked Man ignored him, turning to Su Chen. “I’ll cover your retreat.”

Su Chen recognized him instantly, but shook his head. “Step back. This is my fight.”

“What?” Qiao Qiliang blinked in surprise. Did Su Chen intend to face four Xuan Shui Sect Academy Heads alone?

“Attack!”

Hong Ting of Li Academy struck first. The others followed, their martial qi erupting like thunderclaps.

Su Chen shoved Qiao Qiliang aside before meeting the onslaught. The four had targeted him from the start—now their focus sharpened.

“Your opponent is me!” He Qiu blocked Qiao Qiliang’s advance with a blur of motion.

“You dare challenge me?” Qiao Qiliang sneered, provoking He Qiu’s rage.

The clash began.

“Rain Transformation Qi!”
“Primordial Source Qi!”
“Storm Surge Qi!”
“Heavy Depths Qi!”

The four’s martial qi surged, techniques shifting like water—piercing like dripping water, corrosive like ink spreading in water, overwhelming like tidal waves, or suffocating like deep-sea pressure.

Together, they rivaled Hong Qi’s strength—though individually weaker, their combined synergy amplified their power.

Su Chen fought them head-on, his Iron Shirt Vital Force turning his body into a lethal weapon, each strike deadly. His Unpredictable Force disrupted opponents subtly, rotting them from within. Xuanyuan Vital Force allowed seamless qi circulation, enabling relentless attacks. Firecloud Vital Force scorched the air, searing enemies internally. Most insidiously, Thick Earth Force siphoned opponents’ qi, weakening them while strengthening him.

Five distinct techniques, controlled with flawless precision—Su Chen fought as if five men in one.

The four combatants soon felt an eerie sensation: not four versus one, but five against four.

Hong Xuan Qing faltered. Su Chen seized the moment, five qi types surging into her body. She staggered back, blood trickling from her lips.

“Watch out!” Hong Zhen Dong’s warning came too late. Su Chen’s palm smashed into his skull. A sickening crack echoed—Hong Zhen Dong’s eyes glazed over as he collapsed, dead.

Bone Tempering cultivators’ skulls were rarely hardened like limbs. Against Su Chen’s full-force strike, resistance was futile.

Panic erupted. Su Chen’s gaze swept over the remaining three like a predator. The once-solid formation shattered.

“He’s… terrifying!” Hong Xuan Qing whispered, trembling. This was her first true fear in decades—a feeling she’d forgotten since her youth.

“He dies tonight!” Hong Xuan Cheng roared, unleashing his full power.

Su Chen’s expression hardened. He charged.

The two clashed amid flying debris, reducing the surrounding forest to splinters.

“Too weak! Too weak! Too weak!” Su Chen raged, qi exploding in brutal, direct strikes.

Hong Xuan Cheng’s fury faltered as Su Chen’s words rang true. Compared to Hong Qi, he was pathetically inferior.

They’d underestimated Su Chen—mistaken his victory over Hong Qi as luck. Now they paid the price.

As Hong Xuan Cheng neared death, Hong Xuan Qing and Hong Ting finally intervened, halting his demise by the narrowest margin.

Su Chen was locked in a fierce battle with three opponents when, elsewhere, Qiao Qiliang had effortlessly dispatched He Qiu after Hong Zhen Dong’s death.

Just as Qiao Qiliang prepared to rush forward and assist Su Chen, he noticed that despite being surrounded by three relentless attackers, Su Chen remained completely composed—his movements precise and unhurried, as if he had no need for help at all.

The sight left Qiao Qiliang frozen in place for a moment, his voice barely above a whisper as he muttered, “I can’t shake the feeling that not only Hong Qi, but even the four Academy Heads of the Xuan Shui Sect, won’t stand a chance against him. It’s only a matter of time before they’re all cut down.”

He exhaled sharply, his tone shifting to awe. “That guy... truly terrifying!”

Yet beneath his astonishment lay relief. The thought of facing an opponent like Su Chen made his head ache, but now, that headache belonged to the Xuan Shui Sect.

“Would you like me to help?” Qiao Qiliang asked respectfully after watching the fight unfold for a moment.

The three locked in combat with Su Chen momentarily glanced his way, their expressions darkening when they spotted He Qiu’s corpse. Su Chen, however, barely spared Qiao Qiliang a glance before refocusing, seizing the brief hesitation in his foes to strike decisively.

“Bad move!”

A razor-sharp gust of wind howled as Hong Xuan Qing snapped back to attention. Though she raised her defenses, Su Chen’s opening had already arrived. His attacks came like crashing mountains, overwhelming her.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Three consecutive strikes slammed into Hong Xuan Qing’s body, sending blood spraying from her mouth as she flew backward.

“Xuanqing!”

Her two companions cried out, rushing to her aid—but too late.

Su Chen blurred into motion, lightning-fast, closing the distance to Hong Xuan Qing in an instant. His final strike—a crushing palm strike—came down like a hammer, shattering her skull. Blood poured from her eyes, ears, and nose, her death as violent as it was merciless.

“Retreat!”

Fueled by grief and fury, Hong Ting lunged forward, only to be yanked back by Hong Xuan Cheng. He gripped her wrist tightly, his eyes wild with panic. In that moment, after losing two comrades, Hong Xuan Cheng’s courage crumbled entirely.

He knew it. Their mission had failed utterly. If they stayed, they wouldn’t just lose Hong Zhen Dong and Hong Xuan Qing—they’d all die.

Hong Xuan Cheng’s mind shattered under the weight of fear. He only wanted to flee, to escape before Su Chen turned his wrath on them.

Hong Ting froze, torn between action and hesitation. But when Su Chen’s cold gaze swept over her, all doubt vanished.

Run.

“Split up!” Hong Xuan Cheng bellowed, his voice cracking as he bolted into the night.

“Why not chase them?” Qiao Qiliang asked, watching the two retreat. His tone mixed amusement and confusion. With Su Chen’s strength, another kill seemed effortless. Yet Su Chen stood still, making no move to pursue.

“They’ll outpace me,” Su Chen replied flatly. “Even if I tried, I’d only catch one. And they might be baiting me. Not worth it.”

Qiao Qiliang shrugged, about to ask Su Chen’s plans—only to find Su Chen already crouched over the corpses, rummaging through their belongings. His expression softened slightly as he found something, a rare flicker of satisfaction crossing his face.

The sight startled Qiao Qiliang, who’d grown used to Su Chen’s icy demeanor. So… looting corpses is this exciting?

Intrigued, Qiao Qiliang approached He Qiu’s body, patting it down before grimacing. “Nothing here.”

“That’s not how it’s done,” Su Chen chided, already finished with the other two corpses. He stepped forward, deftly retrieving a pouch of silver taels from He Qiu’s hidden pocket. “There. Your cut.”

Just a few taels? Qiao Qiliang’s face fell, but he accepted them anyway.

“Name?” Su Chen asked, rising to face Qiao Qiliang.

“Qiao Qiliang,” he answered quickly.

Su Chen nodded and walked away without another word. Qiao Qiliang didn’t stop him. He knew tonight’s actions had earned Su Chen’s tentative trust. There would be time later to deepen their alliance.

At the Xuan Shui Sect, the aftermath was dire. Four Academy Heads had attacked Su Chen—two dead, two wounded. The humiliation sent Hong Jinchen into a rage.

Footsteps echoed as a disciple entered. “Left Elder, the Sect Master summons you.”

Hong Jinchen’s face darkened, his anger barely restrained. “Take them away,” he snapped at Hong Xuan Cheng and Hong Ting, who exchanged weary glances. The oppressive tension lifted, but their faces remained bitter. Their disgrace was sealed. All because of Su Chen.

Hatred burned in their hearts, but fear rooted deeper, paralyzing their resolve for vengeance.

Hong Jinchen ignored them, storming out. At the Xuan Du Hall, the Sect’s leaders gathered—Sect Master Hong Jingrui, Right Elder Hong Rongfang, Xuan Academy Head Hong Lang, and Hong Tao of Hong Academy.

“Sect Master,” Hong Jinchen greeted, bowing.

Hong Jingrui’s gaze was cold, his nod dismissive.

Right Elder Hong Rongfang scoffed. “Four Academy Heads, two dead and two broken. Left Elder, you’ve truly brought honor to our sect.”

Hong Jinchen’s jaw tightened, but he held his tongue.

Hong Lang leaned forward. “I find it hard to believe this Su Chen is as formidable as the rumors claim.”

Hong Jinchen’s reluctance was evident, but he nodded. “He’s stronger than rumored. I’d wager he’s refined three jade bones.”

The room tensed. Five jade bones marked a Bone Tempering cultivator’s peak. To refine three at his age—astonishing.

“Three jade bones!” Hong Rongfang interjected. “And you sent four Academy Heads to die? Careless, Jinchen!”

Hong Jinchen’s glare was sharp. “Care to handle him yourself?”

“Enough!” Hong Jingrui’s voice cut through the room. “We’re here to decide his fate, not bicker.”

The sect’s failure to subdue a single cultivator, their repeated losses—it was intolerable. Yet Hong Jingrui restrained his fury.

Hong Rongfang broke the silence. “Deploy the Secret Guards. Elite Gold Medal units could end this.”

The Secret Guards were Hong Clan’s shadow force—elite Bone Tempering killers trained for ruthless efficiency.

The room fell into contemplative silence.

Hong Jinchen shook his head. “No need. Why activate the Guards when I have a hundred ways to kill him already?”

His lips curled into a chilling smile.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end