Chapter 299: Siege! The Overwhelming Lu Qing!

Lu Qing suddenly appeared before Xuan Ming.

This time, he held nothing back.

His entire body surged with blood and qi, his Xian Tian Qi flowing at lightning speed through his meridians.

Unfortunately, the few spirit talismans he’d once stored in his Brow Qi Cavity had been completely vaporized during the recent tribulation—during the process of refining his Xian Tian Zhì Qū and undergoing transcendental rebirth.

He hadn’t yet had time to re-craft them.

Had he still had those talismans, the power of this single strike would have been unimaginably terrifying.

But even without their blessing, Lu Qing’s current strength had already reached a level beyond what ordinary cultivators could comprehend.

Though still only at the initial stage of Xian Tian, he was already a match for even the most accomplished Xian Tian Jing Mastery experts.

With both Body and Zhen Qi erupting in unison, Lu Qing’s power surged to its absolute peak.

His War Blade descended like a bolt of divine thunder, aimed straight at Xuan Ming’s skull.

“Fast! So fast—his movement, his blade!”

Lu Qing was motionless before—then, like lightning, he struck.

The onlookers, even the elite Xian Tian Jing Qiang Zhe among them, were stunned.

Even they could only blink—before Lu Qing had already materialized before Xuan Ming.

For Xuan Ming, already weakened in spirit and mind, the situation was hopeless.

As a Lianqi Practitioner, he was ill-suited for close combat—especially now.

He had no time to react.

All he could do was watch, paralyzed with terror, as Lu Qing’s long blade sliced toward his head.

Just as the blade was about to cleave his skull in two—

Suddenly, the red robe he wore, embroidered with golden thread, flared with a sudden crimson light, enveloping him in a protective aura.

But under Lu Qing’s overwhelming might, the crimson light held for barely half a breath—then shattered like glass.

Yet that fleeting moment was enough.

Xuan Ming finally snapped into action.

In the final instant, he twisted his head aside—just in time to narrowly avoid a fatal blow.

Lu Qing’s blade grazed his skull, slashing across his shoulder instead.

Boom!

The impact shattered Xuan Ming’s shoulder. Bones snapped, muscles tore.

The red robe absorbed the worst of the cut, but it couldn’t fully dissipate the force.

Under the sheer power of the strike, Xuan Ming’s shoulder collapsed entirely—dozens of bones shattered.

The ground beneath him cracked in concentric waves, sinking into a deep crater. He was half-buried in the earth.

“Ah! Master Xuan Ming!”

“Damn brat—die!”

“Demons must perish!”

Seeing Xuan Ming buried in the earth, unconscious and barely breathing, the other Xuan Kong Shan elders erupted in fury.

They’d already sensed danger when Lu Qing broke free from the Ding Shen Jin Guang’s control—Jiang Mo Jin Gang Chu’s binding spell.

Now, they were horrified to realize that Lu Qing had moved with such terrifying speed.

Even with their heightened awareness, they hadn’t been able to react in time.

The shock of seeing their senior brother felled in a single blow ignited their rage.

In a flash, they charged forward—fists, feet, Buddhist staffs, monk’s swords—each unleashing their ultimate techniques in a coordinated assault against Lu Qing.

Xuan Ming might not have been strong in close combat, but his disciples were all Xian Tian Jing Mastery experts—cultivators forged in the depths of the secret realm.

Their combined force detonated the air around them, tearing through space in a crushing wave that bore down on Lu Qing.

The sheer might of it made even the seasoned observers flinch in alarm.

“Hah! Come on then!”

Facing five elite Xian Tian Jing masters—prodigies from the secret realm—Lu Qing showed no fear.

Instead, he laughed, then did something utterly unexpected.

He released his grip on the War Blade.

The blade plunged into the ground with a deep thud.

He clenched his fists, then let out a deafening, soul-shattering roar.

The sound roared like waves crashing against cliffs, like dragons and tigers roaring through the heavens.

But more than that—its shockwave shattered the very air.

The violent force field the elders had conjured—so powerful moments before—was instantly torn apart.

Lu Qing’s roar had broken it.

Without pause, he twisted his body, the ground beneath his feet buckling and warping.

A layer of white mist burst from his form as he launched himself forward—directly at one of the Xuan Kong Shan elders.

Though it sounded complex, the entire sequence—the elders’ attack, Lu Qing’s roar, his charge—had unfolded in the span of a single breath.

By the time he reached his target, their blows hadn’t even landed.

His first target was a large, bare-handed monk.

The man was massive—broad-shouldered, arms thick as tree trunks, radiating immense physical power.

Clearly, he was a master of body cultivation—someone who had refined his flesh and bones to superhuman levels, specializing in brute strength and close combat.

In the martial path, once a cultivator enters Xian Tian Jing, they gain the ability to project Qi—creating Sword Qi, Fire Qi, and other long-range techniques.

But not all choose that path.

Some, like this monk, focus on refining their physical form with Zhen Qi, making their bodies stronger than ordinary Xian Tian Jing cultivators.

They’re known for their raw power, their devastating fists and kicks.

And this monk was exactly that kind—pure, overwhelming physical might.

Seeing Lu Qing abandon his blade and charge in bare-handed, the monk sneered.

“Boy, you’re asking for death!”

His massive hands, each as wide as a fan, turned blood-red, glowing like two crimson grindstones.

He swung them forward, tearing the air with a roar, aiming to crush Lu Qing’s body.

Roar!

But Lu Qing didn’t flinch. Not even a twitch.

A deep, primal Tiger Roar and Dragon Song echoed from his body as he clenched his fists.

Two fists, glowing with a pale jade-like radiance, struck the monk’s palms like two dragons bursting from the sea.

Boom!

The impact exploded outward.

The monk’s hands were far larger—seemingly dominant.

But the moment Lu Qing’s fists struck, his expression twisted in horror.

A force like an endless ocean, like mountains rising from the abyss, surged through his arms.

It wasn’t a fist—it was like being struck by two immovable peaks.

The sheer, crushing power shattered his hands instantly.

Bone splintered, flesh burst into crimson mist.

His arms exploded into fragments, bones scattering like shrapnel.

“Ah!”

The agony was unbearable.

But before he could even scream, Lu Qing had already used the momentum of the punch to close the distance.

He drove his shoulder into the monk’s chest like a battering ram.

With Lu Qing’s current strength, it was like being struck by a siege ram.

His ribs shattered. His internal organs were pulverized.

The monk’s massive frame flew backward—crashing through two walls before finally collapsing.

He was alive, but barely—only gasping for breath.

Yet Lu Qing didn’t stop.

Even as the monk was flung back, Lu Qing already knew he was dead.

In that instant, he used the recoil to spring forward—launching himself toward another monk, this one wielding a Buddhist staff.

The staff-wielder had seen his brother’s fate.

But he couldn’t afford grief.

Eyes wide, breath blazing, he ignored the danger and swung his staff straight at Lu Qing’s chest—intent on a mutual destruction tactic.

He’d rather die than let Lu Qing live.

But Lu Qing wasn’t going to let that happen.

After mastering the World Origin Qi’s Xuan Ao Dao Yun and enduring the Heavenly Tribulation, his mastery of Yi—the Principle of Non-Attachment—had reached a new, unfathomable level.

His punching technique had evolved beyond comprehension.

Dodging the staff, he twisted his body with impossible fluidity—like a coiled dragon spiraling around a blade.

His fist remained on course.

With a thunderous crack, it struck the man’s chest.

After the Heavenly Tribulation’s rebirth, Lu Qing’s Xian Tian Zhì Qū had become incomparably powerful.

This punch carried the same devastating force as his earlier charge.

Bone shattered. The chest caved inward.

The monk spat blood, flying backward—lifeless.

“Small demon—die!”

After dispatching two, the remaining three Xuan Kong Shan elders finally arrived, launching a coordinated attack.

The first was a red-robed monk, brandishing a sword, unleashing a torrent of dark, chilling Sword Light.

It was sinister, suffused with death—like a demon from the underworld descending.

As he unleashed the attack, the other two joined in—one with a short staff, the other with bare fists.

“Use your sword in front of me?”

Lu Qing sneered.

He didn’t dodge. Didn’t retreat.

Instead, he charged toward the Sword Light.

With a single, graceful motion, he extended his palm.

The Sword Light vanished.

The monk’s weapon—his Monk’s Sword—was seized mid-air, gripped firmly between Lu Qing’s fingers.

The blade trembled, trapped.

“Impossible!”

The monk stared, eyes wide with disbelief.

How could his sword technique—so refined, so deadly—be broken so easily… by bare hands?

In that split second of shock, his arm went numb.

Before he could react, his Monk’s Sword had been wrenched from his grasp.

Now holding the weapon, Lu Qing swept it aside with two swift slashes—forcing the other two elders back.

Then, with a single, fluid motion, he swung the sword in a wide arc—cutting toward the red-robed monk.

The Sword Light flared.

The monk’s world spun.

Then—darkness.

“Master Xuan Yi!”

“Die, you demon brat!”

Seeing their brother decapitated in an instant, the last two elders went wild.

They poured every ounce of strength into their attacks, charging at Lu Qing with berserker fury.

But against a force so overwhelming, their efforts were meaningless.

In just a few breaths, Lu Qing had cut them down—one by one—with effortless precision.

Plop!

When Lu Qing severed the final elder’s head, silence fell.

The entire crowd stood frozen, stunned.

Many of the onlookers stared at him with eyes wide—some even trembling with fear.

There was no exaggeration.

The battle had been beyond terrifying.

Five Xuan Kong Shan elders—elite Xian Tian Jing Mastery experts, born from the secret realm—had attacked.

And yet, not a single scratch marred Lu Qing’s clothes.

They had been broken, crushed, and killed—without even touching him.

His speed, his strength, his swordplay—each one a revelation, each one shattering the limits of what they believed possible.

Even after the fight ended, no one dared speak.

They feared that one wrong word, one glance—might awaken the wrath of this living demon.

Even Yang Ming Dao Ren, a master from the secret realm, remained silent.

And the young monks—those Lu Qing had nearly severed earlier, but left alive—now trembled in terror, utterly still, afraid even to breathe.

In a dark, forgotten corner far away, a shadow shivered.

Eyes wide with disbelief.

“How… how could he be this strong? What kind of monster is this boy?”

“Hmph?”

In the silence, Lu Qing suddenly tilted his head.

He turned toward Xuan Ming He Shang’s position.

“Old baldy… I didn’t think you’d survive that. Not even close.”

The crowd paused.

All eyes turned to Xuan Ming.

He looked a mess—half his body buried in the earth, one shoulder collapsed, ear severed, hair matted with dirt and blood.

He was a wreck.

And yet—his aura was gone.

He looked dead.

But Lu Qing smiled.

“Playing dead, huh?”

He kicked a stone.

It flew through the air with a sharp whoosh, aimed straight at Xuan Ming’s skull.

Just as it was about to crush his head—

A crimson light flared.

A ripple spread through the air—deflecting the stone.

“Amitābha… Lu Shidi, are you truly determined to exterminate us all?”

Xuan Ming opened his eyes—his face twisted with grief and fury.

The crowd gasped.

They finally realized—he had been faking death.

The skill to suppress one’s aura so perfectly… it was extraordinary.

And yet, Lu Qing had seen through it instantly.

Even among so many, none had noticed.

The realization sent a chill through them.

How deep was this boy’s cultivation?

“Exterminate?” Lu Qing’s voice remained calm.

“Yes. None of you—Xuan Kong Shan monks—will leave this place alive.”

He raised his wrist.

A thin thread of Sword Qi shot forward—focused, deadly.

Even if Xuan Ming’s red robe protected him, this Qi would pierce through.

And it did.

The crimson light flared again—then shattered after half a breath.

Xuan Ming’s eyes widened in terror.

He was about to die.

But then—

A Sword Qi, unseen, appeared from nowhere.

It arrived after Lu Qing’s strike—but before it reached its target.

It intercepted the attack—calmly, effortlessly, dissolving it into nothing.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end