Chapter 76

"Someone else is here?" Zhao Yun's expression suddenly changed.

It was an old man with one arm, as thin as a withered stick, his body emaciated as if all the blood had been drained from him, dry and shriveled. His disheveled hair covered half his face. Those who knew him recognized him as a person, but those who didn't might mistake him for a starving ghost.

"Such pure qi and blood."

The old man opened his eyes and savored the air, licking his blood-red tongue as he looked at Zhao Yun. His murky eyes glinted with a greenish light, eerie and terrifying.

"Xuanyang Realm."

Zhao Yun murmured. The old man hadn't hidden his aura, so he could faintly sense it without needing to look at the Spirit Pearl. However, his qi was somewhat lacking, indicating he had internal injuries. Having studied the Heavenly Book of the Mystic Gate, Zhao Yun also knew some techniques for reading faces and diagnosing illnesses.

His guess was spot on.

The one-armed old man indeed had internal injuries, which had plagued him for years, like a chronic illness. When he spoke, his voice lacked strength, and he would sometimes cough violently.

"Senior, I didn't mean to disturb you."

Zhao Yun took a step back, preparing to retreat. Although the old man had internal injuries and only one arm, he was not an ordinary martial cultivator, far surpassing Old Yan. He was at least at the eighth level of the Xuanyang Realm. While Zhao Yun could use an explosive talisman to blow him up, he would also lose his life. This wasn't the surface; it was a cave halfway up a mountain, and the underground palace was quite narrow, making it impossible to fully unleash his power. If he detonated the talisman, the cave would collapse. He was aware of this.

Buzz!

Before he could retreat, the stone door at the cave entrance closed with a buzz.

Clearly, the one-armed old man intended to trap him.

"How did you know about this place?" The old man smiled sinisterly.

"I stumbled upon it."

Zhao Yun laughed dryly, cursing inwardly. Who would have known that the treasure site of Lone Wolf had a Xuanyang Realm cultivator? If he had known, he wouldn't have come here for thrills.

Now, he was trapped.

"Stumbled upon?" The old man sneered. "Only my disciple knows about this place."

"Really, I stumbled upon it."

"How disobedient."

The old man's lips curled. In the blink of an eye, he moved from the stone platform to Zhao Yun, his withered hand carrying a powerful palm wind.

Whoosh!

Zhao Yun reacted quickly, using the Wind God Step to dodge.

"Excellent body technique."

The old man laughed sinisterly, not pursuing but raising his arm, spreading his withered fingers toward Zhao Yun. True essence flowed from his palm, forming a vortex.

Zhao Yun, who was retreating, suddenly felt a terrifying suction force, so strong that he couldn't resist it. Despite moving backward, he was pulled toward the old man by this force.

Clang!

At the critical moment, he drew his sword, unleashing a powerful strike.

"Overestimating yourself."

The one-armed old man looked at Zhao Yun with disdain, extending two fingers to precisely pinch the tip of the Zixiao Sword. No matter how much true essence Zhao Yun poured into the sword, he couldn't pierce through.

Buzz!

The old man flicked his finger, sending Zhao Yun flying. The Zixiao Sword buzzed violently, almost shattering. Zhao Yun also suffered, his internal organs aching, especially his sword-wielding arm, which had a cracked bone and was bleeding.

Additionally, his transformation technique was dispelled, revealing his true form.

Seeing his appearance, the old man's eyes narrowed. Zhao Yun resembled someone in his memory, especially his deep, wise eyes.

Puff!

Zhao Yun finally steadied himself, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

He was seriously injured.

This was the gap between the True Spirit Realm and the Xuanyang Realm. Not to mention the difference of a major realm, he wouldn't last a single round in a direct confrontation.

"Who is Zhao Yuan to you?"

The one-armed old man smiled at Zhao Yun, his smile chilling.

"I don't know him."

Zhao Yun replied curtly, scanning the surroundings. He needed to find a way to escape, but the underground palace seemed to have only one exit: the stone door.

Regarding his relationship with the Zhao family, he denied it outright.

He wasn't alone in the world. No matter where or when, he had to hide his identity to avoid causing trouble for the Zhao family. If a family was targeted by an eighth-level Xuanyang Realm cultivator, they would never have peace again.

"Then do you recognize this?"

The one-armed old man smiled sinisterly, holding out a sachet.

Zhao Yun frowned upon seeing it.

He recognized the sachet because it was his. He had lost it many years ago. His mother had embroidered it for him. He could recognize it at a glance because of the "Yun" character on the sachet, embroidered with a unique phoenix pattern, a technique his mother had mastered. It was simple yet incredibly complex. In the entire Daxia Dynasty, no one else could replicate it. He was puzzled as to why his mother's sachet was in the old man's possession.

"Indeed, you are Zhao Yuan's precious son."

The one-armed old man laughed sinisterly, his lips curling into a cruel smile. His murky eyes turned blood-red, filled with a bloodthirsty and brutal gaze. He didn't need to ask; Zhao Yun's expression had already given him the answer.

Zhao Yun remained silent, his brows furrowed deeper.

This strange one-armed old man knew his father?

"I know him, of course I do." The old man grinned ferociously, as if reading Zhao Yun's thoughts. Because he could read them, he bared his teeth in a sinister smile. "His wife, your mother, was the one whose heart I shattered."

Boom!

Zhao Yun's body trembled violently, as if struck by lightning. His deep eyes instantly filled with bloodshot veins, turning blood-red. The Zixiao Sword in his hand buzzed, and a surge of rage and icy killing intent overwhelmed him.

This was a blood debt, a monumental blood debt.

He could only remember his mother up to the age of seven, on that cold night when his family was attacked by enemies. His mother protected him from a black-clothed man's palm, shattering her heart. By the time his father arrived, she was on the brink of death.

"Yun'er."

This was likely her last call to him before she died, gentle yet weak, filled with tears and reluctance, as she fell into his father's arms.

He also remembered his father's anguished cry when his mother closed her eyes, a cry that was hoarse and tragic. That night, his father's hair turned white.

At seven, he didn't understand the world, thinking his mother was just sleeping, unaware that this sleep was eternal. For years, he never mentioned his mother in front of his father, knowing that his father would often wander alone under the moon, holding his mother's memorial tablet, filled with longing and guilt. He had exhausted all his resources to find the murderer, but to no avail.

The heavens had eyes, and he had finally encountered him.

Perhaps it was fate. This trip was not in vain.

The murder of his mother was an unforgivable sin.

"Interesting, truly interesting." The old man laughed sinisterly, his face twisted like a demon. "Zhao Yuan, nine years ago I killed your wife, and nine years later, your son comes to me on his own. In this life, you are destined to be alone."

Kill!

Zhao Yun's roar was a soul-shattering scream, his mind clouded by hatred, forgetting that the old man was at the eighth level of the Xuanyang Realm. He charged forward, using the Wind and Thunder Sword Technique, with fire and lightning surrounding the sword.

The old man sneered, reaching out to grab the Zixiao Sword.

However, before he could strike, Zhao Yun abandoned his sword and used the Combat Saint Technique to engage in close combat, using a bizarre and fierce attack, each move powerful and dominant.

"Excellent close combat."

The old man was slightly surprised, momentarily caught off guard.

But it was only for a moment.

Zhao Yun's fierce attacks were far from hurting him. In the face of absolute power, techniques were mere decorations. With a difference of a major realm, Zhao Yun couldn't even break through his defenses, let alone injure him. The protective true essence of an eighth-level Xuanyang Realm cultivator was not something a True Spirit Realm cultivator could penetrate.

Boom!

With a thunderous explosion, Zhao Yun was sent flying. The old man hadn't even moved, using only his surging true essence to nearly disintegrate Zhao Yun.

Puff!

Zhao Yun spat out a mouthful of blood, swaying unsteadily. He didn't know how many bones were shattered, and his entire body felt like it was burning.

"Turning you into a puppet would be quite fitting."

The old man laughed sinisterly, baring his teeth. He had already decided to turn Zhao Yun into a puppet and order him to assassinate Zhao Yuan. The scene would be quite entertaining.

As he walked, he suddenly felt something was wrong and instinctively looked down.

He saw three yellow talismans, specifically explosive talismans, attached to his body.

This was unexpected.

Zhao Yun must have attached them during their close combat.

This wasn't important.

What was important was that the three explosive talismans had already detonated. Even the old man was forced to step back, his protective true essence torn open. The explosion left him bleeding, with a layer of flesh on his chest torn away, a gruesome sight. Fortunately, his foundation was strong; otherwise, he would have been blown to pieces.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Before he could react, several flying knives shot at him, each with an explosive talisman.

"You little brat, you underestimated me."

The old man gritted his teeth, seeing the explosive talismans on the flying knives. True essence surged, creating a powerful wind to deflect the knives, letting them explode elsewhere.

Unfortunately, he underestimated Zhao Yun again.

Before the wind could deflect the knives, they changed course and shot straight up.

"Is this sword control?" The old man was surprised.

Indeed, it was sword control. Each flying knife bore Zhao Yun's mark, and with the hand seals, he had avoided the wind. Now, the knives were descending from the sky, exploding upon contact with the old man's body.

Boom! Bang! Boom!

The combined power of the explosive talismans was formidable, causing the small underground palace to shake, with rocks falling and signs of collapse.

The old man was in a miserable state. His protective true essence, which had just healed, was torn open again by the explosions. His emaciated body was riddled with wounds, some exposing bone and blood.

Puff!

The old man spat out a mouthful of blood, the explosions triggering his internal injuries, causing him intense pain.

"Blood for blood."

Zhao Yun roared, not giving him a chance to catch his breath, and launched another barrage of flying knives.

"Looking for death." The old man laughed ferociously.

This time, he was smarter. Like a shadow, he moved before the flying knives could explode, reaching Zhao Yun with his withered hand.

Whoosh!

Zhao Yun had anticipated this. The moment the old man reached out, he retreated.

During this time, he also formed hand seals.

Explosive talismans! He definitely had more, hidden in the ground, planted earlier. One on each side, they were like landmines, and the old man stepped on both.

Puff!

The old man spat out a mouthful of blood, the explosions triggering his internal injuries, causing him intense pain.