https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-138-A-Trap-for-the-Subduing-Dragon/13506006/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-140-Testing-the-Lifebound-Unleashing-Might-/13506008/
Chapter 139: A Sleeve Clears the Heavens
Chapter 139: A Sleeve Clears the Heavens
Northern Borderlands, Skull Mountain Bazaar.
Inside a tall building at the heart of the bustling market town, Zhao Xuhe stepped out of his meditation chamber, his youthful arrogance and recklessness long since shed. Time, he mused, truly was the sharpest of teachers.
More so after his recent trials. After usurping Lv Yang’s position at Skull Mountain, he’d been ensnared by True Man Yinshan’s schemes, losing thirty years’ worth of karmic fortune. Forced into retreat, he’d spent the next three decades in isolation, just as Lv Yang once had.
Now, after decades of hardship, Zhao Xuhe had shed his former self entirely. He’d cultivated a Supreme Divine Technique and ascended to the ranks of Status-holding cultivators. Yet his face bore no triumph—only a storm of dread.
The moment he’d used his Supreme Divine Ability to purify his body and solidify his foundation, he’d sensed the anomaly: his memories as a “Coiling Dragon Cultivator” clashed with the rest, as though they belonged to another life.
“Were those truly my past lives?” Zhao Xuhe muttered, his expression darkening. “Or did a True Man tamper with me back then? How much of my memory is real, and how much is falsehood?”
The mere thought sent chills down his spine. His suspicions immediately fell on the Heaven-Mending Peak Master—the sinister old cultivator who’d always harbored ulterior motives.
“He pushed for my union with his daughter,” Zhao Xuhe recalled bitterly. “It was never about me, but about the Nine Metamorphosis Dragon Art. Yet lately, he’s barely shown his face—decades of silence. Why?”
For a moment, Zhao Xuhe wavered, unsettled by the old man’s sudden withdrawal, as if unseen forces were now at play. But he was still too weak to see the full picture.
Shaking off his doubts, he steeled his gaze. “No matter what—once I solidify my Foundation, everything will change.”
"For that, I must seize victory in the upcoming battle against the Divine Martial Gate. Only then will the Stationed True Man grant me his patronage."
A streak of light suddenly tore through the sky.
Zhao Xuhe’s eyes lit up. He hurried forward as the light dispersed. “Senior Brother Yuanchun, is this news from the Northern Borderlands?” The light faded, revealing a dashing young man—Lu Yuanchun—his expression grim.
The light faded, revealing a dashing young man—Lu Yuanchun. His expression, however, was grim.
“No news from the Divine Martial Gate,” Lu said in a low voice. “This comes from the Holy Sect… A True Man has arrived there, and he’s declared total annihilation of the Divine Martial Gate.”
Zhao Xuhe stiffened. “Which True Man?”
“We don’t know. A recent appointee, it seems. Chongguang Elder championed him fiercely despite opposition. This man wields immense divine power and powerful backing. He’s leading the campaign, supported by three Holy Sect True Men. They’ve already departed. At their speed, they’ll reach Skull Mountain within days!”
He paused, his brow furrowing. “We can’t let the Divine Martial Gate’s disciples keep besieging the market town. If the Holy Sect’s True Men see this…”
Their faces darkened. For years, the Divine Martial Gate had encircled the town, forcing them into a defensive stalemate.
Zhao Xuhe clenched his fists. “Don’t worry, Senior Brother. I’ve perfected my Supreme Divine Technique. I’ll face this opponent myself!”
Before his words faded, a thunderous boom shook the town. The ground trembled as the two rushed outside. Standing beyond the market’s defenses was a warrior clad in armor, his spear raised high.
“Is this the best the Primordial Sacred Sect has to offer?” Ouyang Haoze sneered, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s. “Hiding behind a shell like turtles. Come out and fight! I’ll take you all with one hand!”
“Ouyang Haoze!” Zhao Xuhe growled. Once a mere disciple, Ouyang had recently mastered the Divine Martial Gate’s Supreme Divine Technique, surging ahead of them in power. If the Holy Sect’s True Men arrived to find them still trapped, they’d face harsh judgment—and rumors of the Primordial Sacred Sect’s decline would spread.
“I’ll handle him,” Zhao Xuhe said, rising. “Cover me.”
But as he spoke, Lu Yuanchun’s face paled. His teeth chattered; his eyes locked on something behind them.
Three breaths. Only three.
Zhao Xuhe turned slowly, his skin crawling.
A young man stood there—serene, his Daoist robe pristine, a faint golden mark between his brows. To the eye, ordinary. Yet even Zhao Xuhe’s spiritual senses couldn’t pierce his presence, as if he were a void.
“Disciple greetings, True Man!” Zhao Xuhe dropped to his knees, kowtowing deeply. Lu Yuanchun had already prostrated himself.
“Rise,” the man said lightly. His gaze flicked to Ouyang Haoze outside the town. “This noise… Let me quiet it.”
With a casual wave, he swept his hand.
Outside, Ouyang Haoze stood, basking in his arrogance, dismissing the Primordial Sacred Sect as overrated.
“Our sect’s True Men are too cautious, too timid. If I solidify my Foundation, I’ll sweep away this stagnation—challenge their strongest directly!”
A breeze stirred.
It danced across his face, his soul… and then his body crumbled, grain by grain, into dust. Behind him, every Divine Martial Gate disciple followed suit—no screams, no struggle, erased as if they’d never existed.
Silence fell.
Then a roar split the heavens, furious and anguished. “Monster! A Foundation Building cultivator dares strike at juniors?!”
The sky quaked with the voice.
Inside the town, Lv Yang chuckled. “You mistake me, fellow Daoist.”
“I’m still young—under eighty. By your own reckoning, I’m younger than your disciples. How, then, is this ‘striking at juniors’?”
He ascended in a streak of light.
Clouds parted, revealing a sunlike figure wreathed in blood qi, half the sky crimson. A hulking man emerged—wild-bearded, broad-shouldered, his aura more warlord than cultivator, a golden mace clutched in one fist.
“You’ve reached Foundation Building and refuse mortal combat,” the man spat. “Yet you strike at Refining Qi disciples? Do you feel no shame?”
Lv Yang smiled coldly. “In the Holy Sect, we call it… efficiency.”
The man’s face contorted with rage. “The Primordial Sacred Sect truly seeks mutual destruction?”
Lv Yang shook his head, his smile never faltering. “Misunderstanding. Not mutual destruction—”
He raised a finger, his eyes glacial.
“Just the Divine Martial Gate’s foolishness in trying to crack an egg against stone.”
(End of Chapter)
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