https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-221-Ruthless-Actions-Ma-Gu-Strikes/13688400/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-223-Stone-Annihilates-Internal-Organs-All-Are-Slain/13688402/
Chapter 222: Shan Hai Dao – One Glimpse, Instant Flight
On the Imperial Road, Ma Gu stood alone, one blade in hand, locked in fierce combat with over a dozen disciples. Though seemingly outnumbered and alone, he was holding his ground—his swordsmanship so sharp and precise that the dozen disciples were being forced into retreat, step by step.
This sight left Wei Zian flushed with excitement, while Zhao Qianlin stared in stunned disbelief.
She had never imagined that the lean, quiet stablehand—whom she’d seen for days chopping wood and tending horses at the temple during the rain—could possess such overwhelming martial prowess. To face down a dozen disciples of the Liu Yun Zong, even those at the Jin Gu Jing Great Achievement level, was nothing short of astonishing.
Among them were several disciples whose cultivation levels were nearly equal to Ma Gu’s—each at the same pinnacle of bone and sinew refinement. Yet under Ma Gu’s blade, they were helpless, their defenses crumbling as if struck by an unstoppable force.
“Ma Ye’s Shan Hai Dao technique is truly well-practiced,” Lu Qing observed, eyes glinting with approval. “It already bears a strong resemblance to the essence of Wei Lao Qian Bei. Given time, he may well reach the Zong Shi level.”
The technique Ma Gu wielded was none other than the Shan Hai Dao, a martial art personally taught to him by Wei Shanhai. Before ascending to the Xian Tian Jing, Wei Shanhai had forged this art by integrating his own knowledge and experience—crafting a true Zong Shi-level sword technique.
As Wei Zian’s master, Ma Gu had resided in the Wei Family’s private estate for the past two years, overseeing Wei Zian’s training. Wei Shanhai often visited the estate, and seeing Ma Gu’s dedication, he had, on a whim, passed down his famed technique. He also offered occasional guidance.
Occasionally, Lu Qing would observe Ma Gu practicing and offer his own insights.
With two Zong Shi-level masters—both having grasped the Sword Intent—shaping his path, Ma Gu’s martial arts had advanced at a staggering pace. He was now but a short step away from reaching the elusive realm of Balanced Strength and Gentleness, Exquisite Precision.
Thus, he could stand alone against a dozen disciples, striking them down with relentless fury.
“Lu Qing Doctor,” Wei Zian said, eyes blazing with eagerness, “let me help Master too!”
Lu Qing paused, considering. The Wei Family had brought Wei Zian here specifically for cultivation through real combat. This moment was the perfect opportunity.
He nodded. “Go. Be careful.”
“Got it!” With a spark of joy, Wei Zian leapt forward.
He reached behind his back, drawing out two segmented iron rods. With a quick twist and a snap, the two pieces fused into one long, heavy staff.
“Master! I’m here to help!” With a shout, he bounded into the fray. The staff in his hands whirled like a falling star, lashing toward the head of a Liu Yun Zong disciple brandishing a sword.
The disciple, seeing Wei Zian’s youth, had initially looked down upon him. But as the boy charged, his expression darkened with malice. He didn’t retreat—he lunged forward, slashing through the air with a flurry of swordlight, intent on cutting Wei Zian down in one stroke—to shatter Ma Gu’s focus.
He had heard clearly—this boy called Ma Gu “Master.” Kill him, and Ma Gu would be thrown into chaos. His terrifying swordplay would then falter.
Yet Wei Zian showed no fear, even as dazzling swordlight filled the air.
He laughed, a sharp, bold sound, and flicked his staff. Instantly, a storm of iron shadows erupted—ten thousand flickering streaks of steel descending like a storm from the heavens.
The force of the blow shattered the sword’s defenses in an instant. Then, without pause, the staff struck—cracking into the disciple’s chest with crushing weight.
The iron staff weighed dozens of jin. Under Wei Zian’s full strength, even a disciple newly at the Jin Gu Jing level couldn’t withstand it. His chest caved in, blood spurted from his mouth, and he collapsed lifelessly.
Yi Qi Gun Fa!
This staff technique—refined by Lu Qing—had been fully taught to Wei Zian the moment he entered the Jin Gu Jing. For a year, he had trained relentlessly, mastering it to perfection.
Now, in his first real battle, he had already delivered a killing blow to a peer at the same cultivation level.
“Master! Let’s fight together!” Wei Zian roared, confidence surging. With a flick of his staff, he charged forward like a roaring dragon, clearing a path through the remaining disciples and joining Ma Gu’s side.
“Excellent! Let’s cut them down together!” Ma Gu grinned, his laughter echoing as he slashed forward once more.
With Wei Zian at his flank, Ma Gu no longer had to worry about his rear. His blade grew wilder, fiercer—within moments, three more disciples fell.
Five down. Fewer than ten remained with any fighting strength.
The tide had turned. The combined might of master and disciple now pressed forward with precision and power, overwhelming the remnants of the Liu Yun Zong force.
Zhao Qianlin watched, heart pounding with delight.
She had no idea Chen Laodaifu’s team included such formidable warriors. Not only Ma Gu—so strong and silent—but even Wei Zian, the quiet, bookish-looking servant, was a martial prodigy. Her assumptions had been utterly shattered.
She recalled her own earlier urging for the old doctor to flee. Heat flooded her face.
She was the one who had been blind. She had failed to see that the stablehand and the young servant beside the old doctor were, in truth, masters of martial arts.
No wonder Master had remained so calm when they spoke of being pursued by the Liu Yun Zong. They had such strength to fall back on.
“Useless trash!” The gray-clad man’s face twisted in fury. His dozen disciples were being crushed—his own men had fallen, and the enemy showed no sign of weakening.
He couldn’t understand it. Ma Gu and Wei Zian were both only at the Jin Gu Jing level. Even if their martial arts were refined, his disciples were all at the same level—some even matched Ma Gu’s cultivation.
Yet here they were, losing. How could this happen?
His face darkened with rage. He raised his bow again, aiming at Ma Gu and Wei Zian.
But just as he drew the string, a chilling sensation shot through his chest.
His body froze.
He turned his head slowly, compelled by the cold dread rising from within.
And met a pair of calm, unblinking eyes.
“If I were you,” Lu Qing said softly, “I’d put the bow down.”
The gray-clad man stared, paralyzed. The cold seeped into his bones.
In that moment, he finally understood—this man, so seemingly harmless, so unimpressive in cultivation, was in truth an abyss of danger.
Otherwise, how could a Nei Fu Jing-level warrior like him—someone who had survived countless battles—react so instinctively to a mere glance? His body trembled, his breath caught.
He’d hit a wall. A wall of steel.
Though he couldn’t fathom how a man so young could radiate such terror, he trusted his instincts—refined over years of blood and battle.
These people weren’t just ordinary travelers. They weren’t weak prey to be crushed.
They were wolves in sheep’s clothing—deceptively small, terrifyingly powerful.
Run.
The decision came instantly.
Without a word, he abandoned his remaining disciples mid-combat and fled—fleeing with desperate speed, abandoning the fight entirely.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
