Chapter 58: Neverending Struggle

Nangong Hao fell flat to the ground, his body rigid. His eyes were wide open, unseeing in death. Never could he have imagined that Jun Wushuang would actually dare to kill him—right before his grandfather’s eyes, before the gathered crowd—with a single stroke, severing his life. How could Jun Wushuang dare to kill him? Was he not afraid of the Nangong Clan’s vengeance? Yet, the answer to these questions would elude him for eternity.

Now, his corpse lay sprawled on the earth, head severed from body, blood soaking into the ground. The entire place was deathly silent. All eyes fixed in horror on Nangong Hao’s remains. A chill rose from everyone’s heels straight to the crown of their heads, draining the color from every face. This was no longer merely an affront to the Nangong Clan; it was a blood feud that would not end until one side perished. The Nangong Clan would never let this pass. What would follow could only be a storm of terror and bloodshed.

“Hao’er!” Nangong Qing finally reacted, his pupils contracting, wrath twisting his face. “How dare you kill my grandson! Die for it!” He raised his right hand and struck at Jun Wushuang with a sweeping slap.

Boom! The air compressed and exploded, a thunderous roar splitting the heavens. White waves of force surged out, the terrifying power fissuring the very ground. Nangong Qing was a Kingly Realm powerhouse, capable of shattering mountains and rending the earth with a mere gesture, his destructive might immense. Now, attacking in rage, the force of this palm could easily obliterate a great mountain.

“Shura’s Blade Strike!” Jun Wushuang dared not be careless. He gripped the Demon Blade of Shura, channeling the power of eighty drops of demon essence, which surged as a tide of demonic energy into the blade. The blade fell—a demon king descending to earth—bringing with it a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. Though Jun Wushuang did not deploy his forbidden technique to transform his body into a Shura, with his strength at the eighth level of the Myriad Manifestation Realm, this one stroke could contend with someone at the fourth or fifth level of the Divine Sea Realm.

But Nangong Qing was far too powerful. His palm, heavy as Mount Tai, crashed down, swatting Jun Wushuang and his blade away like a ragdoll. Jun Wushuang was hurled back a hundred meters, his face pale, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, gravely wounded.

“Hmm? He’s not dead?” Nangong Qing was startled. Though he had only used seventy percent of his strength, even a Divine Sea Realm expert would have been crushed to death by that blow. Yet Jun Wushuang was merely injured.

“A monstrous talent like you cannot be allowed to live!” A frigid light blazed in Nangong Qing’s eyes. The terrifying pressure of the Kingly Realm erupted from him as he prepared to strike with his full might and annihilate Jun Wushuang.

In a flash, Jun Wushuang reached into his storage ring and drew forth a sword talisman. This had been gifted to him by Mo Xingyun, containing a trace of Mo Xingyun’s famed Drunken Sword Aura. Without hesitation, Jun Wushuang activated the talisman. Instantly, a cold and razor-sharp sword energy burst forth.

The air filled with the fragrance of wine, the sword energy biting and fierce. Those nearby felt as though their faces were being sliced by knives. The Drunken Sword Aura expanded to a hundred meters in size, like a sword dragon sweeping across the sky, slashing toward Nangong Qing.

“Mo Xingyun’s Drunken Sword Aura!” Nangong Qing’s pupils contracted as he recognized the source of the attack. No longer daring to be careless, he summoned his avatar and braced himself with all his strength.

Splat! The sword dragon rampaged, sending blood spraying. Nangong Qing was struck and thrown backward, carving a furrow dozens of meters long into the ground. His face grew ashen and he spat a mouthful of blood; a ghastly wound now gaped across his chest. Though not fatal, the injury was severe.

The onlookers were thunderstruck, their minds blank with disbelief. Nangong Qing had been wounded? How could this be?

“You are Jun Wushuang?” Nangong Qing struggled to his feet, his gaze like steel hooks, locking onto Jun Wushuang as he deduced his identity. So young. So monstrously gifted. And in possession of Mo Xingyun’s Drunken Sword Aura. Who else but Jun Wushuang, the new disciple of Azure Cloud Martial Academy?

“What? He’s Jun Wushuang?” Nangong Qing’s words sent a wave of shock through the crowd. Jun Wushuang’s name had already resounded throughout the imperial capital, yet this was the first time they had seen him in the flesh. Now, at last, they understood why he dared kill Nangong Hao. He had already slain Nangong Lei and publicly humiliated Nangong Tianxuan. How could someone like Nangong Hao possibly be spared?

“The Nangong Clan is rife with scum. I’ll kill any I see!” Jun Wushuang wiped the blood from his mouth, his smile cold and sharp.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd, faces filled with horror. Yet none dared call him arrogant. He had already slain Nangong Lei and Nangong Hao; what was to stop him from killing a third?

“Well, well!” Nangong Qing’s fury twisted into a cold smile, his eyes shooting out a chilling light like a ravenous wolf, his gaze fixed on Jun Wushuang with scalp-crawling intensity. “Jun Wushuang, do you think that with the Prince’s protection you can challenge my Nangong Clan? The power of my clan is beyond your wildest imaginings. For the deaths of Lei’er and Hao’er, I will make you repay a thousandfold. Just you wait—I’ll see you die in agony and despair, and let you know that offending the Nangong Clan is the worst mistake of your life!” Nangong Qing gnashed his teeth, his eyes murderous.

Yet today, he could do nothing to Jun Wushuang. Not only did Jun Wushuang possess the Command of the Southern Guardian, but even Mo Xingyun’s sword talisman rendered him untouchable. This blood feud, however, had been sealed—one that would not end until death.

“Let’s go!” Nangong Qing, not wishing to be further humiliated, boarded his carriage and left with his followers, taking Nangong Hao’s corpse with him. But all knew that the blood feud between Jun Wushuang and the Nangong Clan had only just begun. Ahead lay a storm of terror and slaughter. Between Jun Wushuang and the Nangong Clan, one would surely fall, and only death would end it.

“Nangong Clan!” Jun Wushuang watched the departing carriage, the killing intent in his heart growing ever stronger. If others do not harm me, I will not harm them; but if they harm me, I will kill. The Nangong Clan must die.

“Mengyao, give her this healing pill,” Jun Wushuang said as he walked to the wounded girl, handing a healing pill to Lin Mengyao. Lin Mengyao carefully helped the girl take the medicine. Soon, the effects took hold, and the girl’s wounds recovered somewhat.

“Thank you, benefactor, for your timely rescue. I will never forget your great kindness.” With some strength restored, the girl pulled her younger brother Aman to kneel before Jun Wushuang, kowtowing in gratitude. Without Jun Wushuang’s intervention, she and Aman would have suffered a terrible fate today.

“What is your name?” Jun Wushuang looked at the girl, feeling a pang of pity. Though Lin Mengyao lived a modest life, she at least had the protection of her family, her father, and himself. But this girl was born into poverty, suffering humiliation everywhere she went.

“My name is Liu Yiyi, and this is my younger brother Aman,” the girl replied softly. Willow, swaying with the wind—what a beautiful name.

“I am Jun Wushuang, a disciple of Azure Cloud Martial Academy. If you have nowhere to go, you can find me there,” Jun Wushuang said, seeing the wariness and fear in Liu Yiyi and Aman’s eyes. Clearly, they were highly guarded against strangers. Thus, Jun Wushuang did not press them, but after giving them some money and healing pills, left with Lin Mengyao.

As she watched Jun Wushuang’s departing figure, Liu Yiyi’s beautiful eyes trembled slightly. The name Jun Wushuang became a lifelong faith in her heart.