Chapter 90

Thank you: Pángpáng Hútu, Wú Lā, QQ302714859, Zháguō Mài Tiě Rén, o Lǎo Jí o, Water Hǎicháo, Qínfèn de yī kē shù de pěngchǎng yǔ yuèpiào de zhīchí!

...

In an instant, the situation changed dramatically.

Fourteen or fifteen disciples of Ancient Sword Mountain had risen from the spring and the campfire, all at once. Whether they were naked or had meat in their mouths, they all held flying swords and exuded a murderous aura, forming an array in the blink of an eye, more than ten yards away.

The leading burly man stood by the spring, his body emitting heat. His chest and limbs were covered with messy, black hair, which was quite eye-catching. His face was even more ferocious and terrifying.

Wújiù stood there, stunned and bewildered.

He thought he had encountered a group of good people, but who would have thought he had stumbled into a den of wolves. They had been so friendly and amiable just a moment ago, so what had happened?

He looked down at himself, with some guesses but still somewhat confused.

The attire might indicate status and even different sects, but how could they see through his true identity? And where did the so-called Junior Brother Jiāng Fēng come from?

"You are wearing Junior Brother Jiāng Fēng's clothes, and we thought it was him, but it turns out to be an impostor. What audacity..."

"Hmph! Daring to kill the disciples of Hundred Sword Peak, you must be tired of living..."

"Still not revealing the truth, let's see what kind of person you are..."

"Take off the mask, kneel down and accept your death..."

The arrogant shouts echoed one after another, and the frenzied killing intent surged in the narrow valley.

Wújiù hurriedly waved his hands, but was at a loss for words.

I am Hé Tiānchéng of Yellow Dragon Valley, not Jiāng Fēng of Hundred Sword Peak. No matter who it is, the charge of impersonation cannot be avoided.

Without much thought, the four cultivators he killed at Longji Beach must have been their fellow disciples! And the disciples of Hundred Sword Peak seem to be the most powerful and arrogant existence on Ancient Sword Mountain. Regardless of how they saw through my flaw, the situation is still dire. Sigh, the heavens should be inclusive, and the world should have great love. Why must there be such violence and killing?

He glanced at the path behind him and sighed helplessly. If this journey is cut off, he would be trapped in Cānglóng Valley. At that time, let alone escaping from Ancient Sword Mountain, he might never see the light of day again!

At this moment, the leading naked burly man had already put on his clothes. Seeing Wújiù still standing there with a dodging expression, he raised his hand and shouted sternly, "Sly and cowardly, not a gentleman but a villain! Fellow disciples, don't let him go..."

More than ten sword lights suddenly rose, and the mist in the valley was instantly thrown into chaos.

Wújiù, seeing the situation was not in his favor, turned and ran.

He was not afraid of a one-on-one fight, but fighting a group would be too disadvantageous, and he absolutely would not do it. A hero cannot withstand four hands, let alone a group of fierce and ruthless people!

The burly man was not about to give up, leading the group in hot pursuit, each with a fierce and loud cry, like a pack of eagles chasing a rabbit.

Wújiù ran with all his might, covering thirteen or fourteen yards in a single step, flying swiftly over the ground, his momentum astonishing.

The disciples of Ancient Sword Mountain had varying levels of cultivation and different strengths in their footwork. In a moment, only four or five people, led by the burly man, were still in hot pursuit, while the rest were gradually left behind. Regardless of the front or back, the more than ten sword lights were not idle, like a barrage of arrows or a shower of stars, with a mighty and overwhelming killing intent.

Wújiù had not escaped three or five hundred yards when he was caught up by the sword lights. Without looking back, he took out a handful of talismans and threw them behind him. Amidst the flashes of lightning and thunder, he ran another few hundred yards. The sword lights attacked again, and he had to resort to the same trick. Although the talismans were not very effective, they at least bought him a moment's respite.

In a moment, the valley entrance was in sight.

And ahead of the valley was a hundred-yard cliff. Beyond the cliff was the Longlín River he had come from.

Wújiù involuntarily slowed down, hesitating. But the sword lights behind him were already roaring, leaving no room for hesitation. He hurriedly waved his arm, but found his hands empty, and then rushed forward, turning around.

No matter how many talismans he had, they could not withstand such a ordeal. Now, he was at the end of his resources. If he did not want to turn back, he could only fight with all his might!

Four or five figures had already caught up to within dozens of yards, each driving their flying swords with a fierce and arrogant aura. The rest were also rushing over, clearly not wanting to miss the opportunity to encircle and kill.

The leading burly man, seeing Wújiù stop running, immediately became imposing, "Take off the mask, kneel down and beg for mercy. In the name of fellow disciples, we might spare your life. If you dare to refuse, you will be killed without mercy..."

He raised his hand, and the sword light he controlled suddenly intensified.

The others, not wanting to fall behind, shouted in unison, "Hundred Sword Peak is mighty! Kill without mercy..."

Wújiù was still flying backward, completely unmoved. His figure suddenly flickered and vanished into the wind in an instant.

The burly man, in full momentum, suddenly found no opponent, and quickly stopped with his companions. His divine sense swept the area, and a faint aura was quickly and stealthily moving through the valley. He was secretly alarmed and called out, "Invisibility spell! Be careful, guard against ambush, that person has escaped back to Dragon Pearl Spring..."

As he warned, the situation was already frequent.

"Thud—"

Blood splattered, and a head was separated from the body.

"Everyone be careful..."

The cry of alarm had just begun when there were "thud thud" sounds. Two disciples of Ancient Sword Mountain, caught off guard, were split into four pieces by a strange black sword light.

The remaining companions were no longer concerned with the pursuit, each in a state of chaos. A unlucky disciple, still dazed, was cut in half by the sword light, not even having time to scream before he died.

Perhaps due to the obstruction, or perhaps intentionally, a figure suddenly appeared, covered in blood, with a cold light in the two eyes of the golden mask, and a demon sword emitting a black light over a yard long in his hand. He spat at the mess on the ground, and a fierce killing intent surged from his body. The blood on his body was shaken off, and a faint blood mist exploded around him. Then he disappeared like the wind, heading straight for the end of the valley.

The leading burly man hurriedly returned, and there were already four more dead bodies on the ground. He roared at the panicked crowd, and led four highly skilled fellow disciples in hot pursuit.

In the valley, a series of figures were chasing each other.

Wújiù no longer used invisibility, and was no longer panicked. With each step covering more than ten yards, he held a demon sword, trailing a long black light behind him. The mist in the valley was shattered as it approached, and he still had a fluttering robe and a soaring momentum.

In a moment, he reached the end of the valley.

Crossing the springs, the mountain stream was ahead. Not far from the stream, a campfire was burning, and a middle-aged man and an old man were guarding it. Seeing a powerful enemy approaching, they each held their swords in readiness.

Wújiù continued his momentum, directly crossing the spring.

A sword light came at him, with a terrifying force.

The two disciples of Ancient Sword Mountain, more than ten yards away, had already launched their attack.

Wújiù, without hesitation, swung his demon sword with all his might. With a "boom," the flying sword was rolled back. He took the opportunity to move forward, trying to force his way through. Unexpectedly, an invisible sword aura suddenly arrived, and he had no time to dodge. He felt a fierce impact on his chest, his protective spiritual energy shattered with a "crack," his clothes burst open, and the sharp edge invaded his body, causing unbearable pain. He let out a painful groan and was thrown back.

In mid-air, he realized that his opponent had actually used two flying swords, one visible and one invisible, one real and one illusory. In other words, he had been ambushed by an invisible flying sword. The attacker was also quite powerful, clearly a high-level cultivator among the feathered immortals.

At the same time, seven or eight figures had already caught up to within dozens of yards. The leading burly man was already furious, roaring, "Senior Brother, stop him..."

The one called Senior Brother was probably the old man, who did not respond but raised his flying sword again. The middle-aged man beside him moved a few steps to the side, blocking the path to the mountain stream.

Wújiù flailed his limbs in mid-air, desperately trying to stop, but still could not control his momentum. In a panic, he fell into the spring. The intense pain in his chest and the scalding hot spring water made him unable to bear it, and he suddenly shouted and rushed out. Seven or eight sword lights were already rushing at him from all directions, and he was surrounded and in grave danger. He gritted his teeth and suddenly lunged forward, moving so fast that he disappeared, leaving only a splash of water.

In a flash, a "thud" sounded more than ten yards away.

The old man in front of the mountain stream was still preparing, but a powerful force suddenly came, like a stone flying out of nowhere, silent but sudden, fierce, and ruthless. He had no time to dodge and was thrown against the rock wall behind him, his spiritual energy scattered, his bones broken, and he almost fainted. Before he could react, a black sword light, swift as a ghost, whistled down, and with a "thud," he was split in two.

At this moment, Wújiù's figure appeared, still holding the demon sword and exuding a fierce killing intent. His golden mask, wild eyes, fluttering robe, and disheveled hair, along with the fierce aura surrounding him, made him look like a demon god descending to earth. He had killed the old man with one sword and did not stop there. He flicked his wrist, and the green silk net suddenly appeared.

In front of the mountain stream, there was still a middle-aged man. He was shocked, driving his flying sword to fight, and shouted, "Senior Brothers, join forces to capture the villain..."

But before he could act, a green light enveloped him, lifting him off the ground. Then, as if the sky and earth had collapsed, a fierce force crushed him from all sides, like a mountain pressing down, leaving no room to escape. His bones shattered, his flesh disintegrated, and his trembling soul instantly sank into oblivion.

"Snap—"

Wújiù swung his arm, and the green light crashed into the rock wall, then scattered, and a figure fell. It was the man guarding the mountain stream, now a bloody mess and dead. The green silk net, after appearing, flashed again, and in an instant, it had taken the meat from the campfire and disappeared.

He had eliminated two powerful opponents in a flash, swift as lightning, ruthless and efficient, like a smooth and seamless flow. The path was clear, and the mountain stream was in front of him. He suddenly turned, pointing his sword in all directions. The demon sword still glowed, exuding a fierce killing intent. The sharp momentum spread out, as if ready to unleash a mad and bloody slaughter at any moment!

Twenty or thirty yards away, seven or eight figures stood in shock.

The leading burly man was thinking of taking advantage of the situation to attack, but the situation had suddenly reversed. He looked at the man standing solemnly in front of the mountain stream and couldn't help but shudder.

The man's cultivation should be similar to his own, and the techniques he used were also common, but the black sword in his hand was extremely rare and unstoppable. Especially his golden mask and cold eyes, which exuded a wild and ruthless ferocity, and a merciless and ruthless aura...

Wújiù did not linger, his eyes sweeping over the scene, and he turned and stepped into the mountain stream, disappearing in an instant.

The burly man was stunned for a moment, then suddenly came to his senses and shouted, "Chase—"

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