"An unexpected fortune. Not bad, not bad. Seems Heaven truly rewards those who act in its stead."
Li Qingqiu smiled faintly, clearly in good spirits.
He didn't bother hauling all the medicinal chests away just yet. Instead, he turned around to finish cleaning up the Cui residence.
As he moved through the estate, rescuing the imprisoned girls, he also came across sights so vile they made his blood run cold. The Cui family was truly no different from the Demonic Sect—filthy, cruel, and deserving of annihilation.
Li Qingqiu decided to root out every last one of them. If he left even a single survivor, those girls would forever live in fear of revenge.
After about one stick of incense's time, he returned to the courtyard where the herbs were stored, carrying a large roll of cloth under his arm. He spread it out on the ground and began moving the medicine chests one by one.
Once the last box was placed, he brought his fingers to his lips and whistled.
A few breaths later, the wind in the courtyard suddenly shifted. A dark shadow swept over the compound, blotting out the sunlight. With a single powerful gust, Xiao Ba descended from the clouds, its vast wings spanning the entire yard.
Li Qingqiu shot the giant eagle a stern look. "Outside," his eyes seemed to say. Xiao Ba obediently hopped back, folding its wings neatly.
Li Qingqiu then lifted the chests onto its back one by one, tying them down with the cloth until everything was secure. Once satisfied that nothing would fall, he patted Xiao Ba's neck.
"Take these back to Qingxiao Sect," he instructed.
Xiao Ba spread its wings and launched itself skyward. Its powerful form pierced through the clouds, disappearing into the heavens.
Li Qingqiu squinted up at it and exhaled. 'If those chests fall on someone's head, that would be quite the sin.'
He shook the thought away and walked toward the main gate.
There was still a fortune's worth of gold and treasures inside the Cui estate, but he couldn't be bothered to take them. "Let the townsfolk have it," he thought casually. "If everyone grabs a share, no one will bother reporting anyone else."
As he left, another thought crossed his mind. 'If only I had a storage-type magic artifact… that would make things far simpler.'
The Qingxiao Sect was growing stronger, but its path of cultivation still lacked diversity. To truly expand, he needed talent—not just strength, but creativity.
Unfortunately, true geniuses were rare. Especially those with the imagination to create new arts or tools.
'We'll have to cast a wider net,' he mused.
The more disciples Qingxiao Sect had, the faster its cultivation systems could evolve. More people meant more perspectives, more discoveries—even if it brought challenges along the way.
He had already established a functioning power structure. Delegation was now possible.
To accelerate the sect's reputation and attract new talent, fame was essential. That was why he had sent Li Sifeng and Wu Man'er down the mountain—to spread the sect's name.
One or two masters weren't enough. The Qingxiao Sect needed to be known for its strength as a whole.
Lost in thought, Li Qingqiu walked through the front courtyard and toward the gates. He had entered this place openly—he would leave the same way.
When he finally stepped out of the main gate, the crowd outside fell silent all at once. Every pair of eyes turned toward him.
Bo Zhao's eyes widened. Seeing that Li Qingqiu was completely unharmed, he finally let out a long breath. The relief in his face mixed with pure awe.
Someone near the gate had already peeked inside earlier and caught a glimpse of Cui Yong's corpse.
Bo Zhao had been kicked aside by that monster before. He knew firsthand the vast difference between himself and Cui Yong. Comparing that to what he just witnessed… he couldn't even imagine how deep Li Qingqiu's strength ran.
Li Qingqiu looked around. The once-imprisoned girls were being reunited with their families—some crying, some searching desperately for missing loved ones. Others stood dazed and silent, orphans with nowhere left to go.
He turned his gaze to Bo Zhao and walked straight toward him.
The crowd instinctively backed away. Though Li Qingqiu had destroyed the Cui family, the screams they'd heard from within still haunted them. None dared to get in his way.
Bo Zhao's fellow officers trembled as Li Qingqiu approached. This time, however, none of them dared to flee.
"I-I warn you… we're government officers!" one pudgy constable stammered, gripping his sword so tightly that his hand shook. "Don't—don't do anything reckless!"
Li Qingqiu ignored him completely. His sharp eyes locked on Bo Zhao.
"I am Li Qingqiu," he said evenly. "From Qingxiao Sect. If the Cui clan seeks vengeance, tell them my name and where to find me."
He paused, his tone softening slightly. "Also, those children who have nowhere to go—can you bring them to Qingxiao Mountain? Only if you're willing. The journey will be long and hard, full of danger. Think carefully before you decide. When you're ready, come."
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away. The townsfolk parted quickly, clearing his path like a tide retreating from shore.
Only after his figure disappeared into the distance did the murmurs begin.
"So he's from Qingxiao Sect… I've heard they're righteous cultivators, but I didn't think it was true."
"We can't just let Qingxiao Sect shoulder this alone. We should spread the truth about what the Cui clan did!"
"But won't that bring revenge from their main branch?"
"You coward. The Cui branch in Pancheng has been wiped out! What's left to fear? And haven't you heard? The armies of seven provinces are fighting at Martial God Pass. That hero Li might have gone there to help. Maybe he'll even slay Chang Wu and make a name across the world!"
"Did any of you see it? Just before he left, I swear I saw a huge shadow fly up—it looked like an eagle!"
As the crowd's excitement grew, Bo Zhao turned to look once more, but Li Qingqiu was long gone.
Then, a strange warmth spread through his chest. The pain from his shattered ribs was fading. Confused, he placed a hand on his chest—and felt a fine silver needle lodged there.
Instantly, he realized who had placed it. He didn't dare remove it.
He had heard the name Qingxiao Sect many times before—a sect known not only for slaying demons but for healing the sick. Few in the martial world could claim such dual mastery.
Today, he had seen it for himself. The name was not just real—it was earned.
The first girl Li Qingqiu had rescued now sat in her mother's arms, but her eyes never left the road, still staring in the direction he had gone.
…
The moon sank and the sun rose. By noon, the combined armies of the seven provinces marched in a massive column along the Martial God Pass road.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers advanced through the mountain valleys like a colossal black dragon winding between peaks—its scale, awe-inspiring and unstoppable.
Wu Man'er rode at the head of the vanguard on a tall black horse. His armor clinked faintly as he shifted in the saddle, still getting used to the weight of the steel plates on his shoulders.
The armor he wore was not ornate—much like what most generals had—but his towering, broad-shouldered frame made the crude steel seem grand. His mere presence drew the eyes of the nearby soldiers again and again.
Wu Man'er and Li Sifeng had arrived only the day before. Now the army was once again on the march, and curiosity rippled among the ranks.
The men had heard that these two came from Qingxiao Sect—cultivators reputed for their skill. Yet the thought made many uneasy.
After all, they had invited countless martial experts before, and every single one of them had fallen beneath Chang Wu's blade.
They had been encamped before Martial God Pass for over one month, and morale had begun to crumble. Few still believed victory possible.
Behind Wu Man'er's position, a carriage rolled slowly along the road. Standing atop it were King Wei, Zhao Qi, and Li Sifeng, with another middle-aged man beside them—the patriarch of the Pei family, Pei Zhangzhi, father of Pei Miao.
Although Pei Zhangzhi wore armor like the others, his features were refined and scholarly—more like a learned gentleman than a battlefield commander.
King Wei, Zhao Qi, looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His weathered face bore years of hardship, and a long beard hung down to his chest. He gripped the railing of the carriage with both hands, his eyes fixed firmly on Wu Man'er ahead.
"Li Sifeng," Zhao Qi said with a deep laugh, "that senior brother of yours is no ordinary man. Just look at that frame—he's built for war."
Li Sifeng rested one hand casually on the hilt of his Emperor Xuan Sword and the other on the railing, grinning. "Of course. My fifth senior brother's strength has been extraordinary since childhood. His body-refining techniques all follow the path of pure force and dominance. Once he faces Chang Wu, you'll see what I mean."
They had just arrived yesterday and were marching to battle today—but Li Sifeng didn't feel rushed at all. Instead, he felt honored by their trust.
He had already made up his mind—today, Chang Wu would die.
If his fifth senior brother failed, he would personally strike.
Pei Zhangzhi chuckled. "I've heard that Qingxiao Sect possesses a supreme martial scripture known as the Supreme Purity and Primordial Harmony Sutra. The sect measures cultivation prowess by how many layers one has reached. Tell me, to which layer has Wu Man'er cultivated?"
Li Sifeng replied proudly, "Five layers—enough to be invincible under heaven."
Zhao Qi shot him a sidelong glance. The youth's arrogance grated on him, though he said nothing. If Pei Zhangzhi hadn't spoken for Li Sifeng, he might have scolded him right there.
Still smiling, Zhao Qi said, "Very well. This king shall watch with his own eyes. If he truly kills Chang Wu, I'll see him made a general on the spot!"
Their calm confidence soon spread through the ranks. The soldiers, weary and disheartened from repeated defeats over the past month, straightened their backs. Seeing their leaders so sure lifted their spirits like wind filling a sail.
When the vast army of the seven provinces finally reached the plains before Martial God Pass, the imperial forces stationed there were already arrayed along the towering walls. Archers stood shoulder to shoulder along the ramparts, bows drawn, ready for battle.
The massive gates of Martial God Pass—over five zhang high—rumbled open with a deafening boom. Out rode a giant of a man clad in black armor, gripping a massive saber as he sat astride a crimson warhorse taller and broader than any other mount on the field.
It was none other than Chang Wu.
His skin was dark and weathered, his eyes sharp and predatory like a leopard's, and his heavy brows cut across his face like blades. A thick beard framed his jaw, and the enormous saber he dragged behind him—nearly one zhang long—scraped along the ground with a harsh metallic screech, sparks flying in its wake.
"King Wei!" he bellowed, his voice rolling like thunder between the mountains. "What will it be this time—single combat or a full assault?"
He grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. "Here's my advice—attack with everything you've got! Bring them all! The more you send, the more I'll kill. Maybe then you'll finally lose all hope and go home to die in peace!"
His laughter was mad and booming, echoing off the cliffs, startling flocks of birds into flight.
Across the field, the soldiers of the seven provinces heard every word. Rage burned in their eyes, their knuckles whitening around their weapons.
King Wei snorted coldly and gave a subtle signal to one of his generals.
"Beat the drums! Clear the path!"
The general raised his command flag and shouted.
At once, the war drums thundered. Rows of soldiers on the front lines split apart, stepping aside to open a straight path—nearly two li long—between the two armies.
From atop the carriage, Li Sifeng called out, "Fifth Senior Brother, go and kill him! Don't hold back. The faster you strike him down, the stronger our army's morale will rise!"
Wu Man'er turned in the saddle and flashed a simple, honest smile. Then, with a sharp flick of the whip, he spurred his horse forward.
The rhythmic pounding of hooves echoed through the ranks as he charged down the cleared path. Tens of thousands of soldiers watched him ride, their hearts pounding as one. They all knew what was about to happen—one man was going to face Chang Wu head-on.
Even though Chang Wu's power was infamous, every soldier on that field silently prayed for Wu Man'er to win.
Not just for honor or pride—but for their families waiting at home. For an end to this endless war. For a chance to topple the demonic tyrant and reclaim peace.
Wu Man'er did not think of any of that. He could feel the weight of every gaze upon him, but his focus was locked entirely on the figure ahead. His eyes burned like molten steel, and the muscles in his jaw tightened as a feral grin twisted his face.
The air between heaven and earth trembled.
The battle between two monsters was about to begin.