Wang Ping almost cursed it out but held back. He bit his tongue and forced himself to remain calm, though his eye twitched uncontrollably.
At that moment, Chen Wutian also attacked with his magical treasure. The purple flag in his hand unfurled, releasing a torrent of wailing souls that darkened the sky. The flag pulsed with an evil light, and the faces of the tormented dead twisted and screamed within its fabric. He swung it toward the Sect Leader with murderous intent.
Both of them collided, and instantly, the Sect Leader of the Azure Sword Sect was blasted backward.
A loud crash echoed through the mountains. A figure flew from the clash, tumbling through the air like a broken doll, and landed hundreds of metres away from the initial position. He smashed into the side of a rocky cliff, cracking the stone like a spiderweb.
The Sect Leader lay sprawled on the ground, blood streaming from his mouth. His robes were torn, his hair dishevelled, and his face was deathly pale. He did not look good at all. His chest heaved with labored breaths, and his hands trembled as he tried to push himself up.
All the other elders, seeing the scene before them, were shocked. Their faces turned white with horror. They quickly cried out loud, their voices filled with anguish and fear.
"Sect Leader!"
Saying this, they rushed toward him, their bodies streaking through the air. But the twelve figures who had come with Chen Wutian moved to block each of them. Dark weapons and sinister artifacts clashed against the elders' swords, preventing them from going to their leader's aid.
Seeing the scene before him, the elders gritted their teeth so hard that some of them drew blood from their own lips. In the very first clash, their Sect Leader had been severely injured. This did not look good in any way. Their enemy was far stronger than they had anticipated.
At that moment, the Sect Leader stood up with great difficulty, his body swaying. A bewildered look filled his eyes. He did not understand why Senior had not helped him. His previous guess had been that the immortal would intervene and save him. That was why he had been so confident, so certain of victory.
But now, the situation did not look good. Senior had not intervened at all. He had simply watched as the Sect Leader was blasted across the sky like a piece of trash.
At the same time, he was also shocked by the power of Chen Wutian. As his arch rival, he knew the man clearly. They had fought dozens of times over the years, and never had the gap between them been this wide. Never had he been so quickly and utterly overpowered. Something had changed. Something had made Chen Wutian far stronger than before.
Chen Wutian floated through the air and appeared before the fallen Sect Leader. He looked down at his defeated enemy and laughed, his voice booming across the mountains like thunder. "Hahahaha! Do you feel confused? Do you wonder why I have suddenly become so powerful? Go to hell and ask Yama!"
Wang Ping: "..."
Sect Leader of the Azure Sword Sect: "..."
Other elders: "..."
A long, awkward silence hung in the air. Chen Wutian's dramatic declaration seemed to fall flat, met with nothing but confused stares and uncomfortable shifting.
At that time, Wang Ping bought another Desert Eagle from the system. The white gun materialised in his hand, identical to the first. He looked down at the Sect Leader, who was still struggling to stand, and spoke in a tone that was half exasperated, half instructive.
"Sect Leader, that is not how you use this. This is not a knife."
The Sect Leader heard his words and fell silent. Shame burned on his face like fire. He lowered his head and said in an apologetic voice, "Senior, I was incompetent."
Wang Ping shook his head slowly. "Leave it."
Saying this, he turned his gaze toward Chen Wutian. His eyes, which had been casual and indifferent, suddenly turned cold and sharp. The air around him seemed to grow heavier.
"I give you three breaths to get lost," Wang Ping said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight. "Or I will personally take action."
Chen Wutian heard these words and scoffed loudly. He waved his flag, and the purple glow around it intensified. The faces of the souls trapped within twisted into expressions of rage and hunger. His own face grew gloomy, filled with contempt.
"Hmph. Let us see who has the guts to say such words in front of me," he snarled.
Saying this, he rushed toward Wang Ping with his magical flag in his right hand. The purple glow around the flag blazed like a dark sun. He moved with full speed, faster than the eye could follow, a streak of malevolent light tearing through the sky.
The wind howled. The mountains trembled. The very heavens seemed to darken as Chen Wutian closed in on his target, his killing intent reaching its peak.
Seeing this scene, Wang Ping did not flinch. He did not move. He simply raised the Desert Eagle in his hand, aimed it at the approaching figure, and spoke in a quiet voice.
"Since you seek death, let this benevolent one grant it to you."
At that moment, he fired at Chen Wutian.
A loud crack of thunder rang out, echoing through the ends of the valley. Everyone's eyes snapped toward Wang Ping, drawn by the sound they had never heard before. It was not the sound of a sword. It was something entirely new, something alien and terrifying.
What they saw shocked them to their very cores.
Chen Wutian fell from the sky like a stone, his body going limp in an instant. His magical flag slipped from his grasp and tumbled downward, its purple glow fading into nothing. He landed on the ground with a heavy thud, lifeless, his eyes still wide open with shock.
And Wang Ping stood on his chariot, still aiming his Desert Eagle at the spot where Chen Wutian had been, a thin wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of the white gun.
Silence fell upon the world.