Her hair was a little messy, her face pale, and a trace of blood lingered at the corner of her mouth.
Seeing this, the spectators watching from below were shocked.
“Looks like the Huang Clan finally kicked an iron wall, even their ancestor, the famed Sword Master, was no match!”
“What’s so surprising? I saw this coming. The Huang Clan may be powerful, but their influence is mostly confined to the Northwestern City. Heaven Ender, on the other hand, is a Middle Continent superpower with three Grand Emperors. They’re simply on a different level.”
“The Huang Clan’s been arrogant for too long, now it’s time they got a taste of their own medicine.”
Up in the air, Huang Guyuan and several elders rushed forward to help Huang Youlan up.
“Ancestor, are you alright?” they asked anxiously.
“My True Fate is damaged… I’ll need a long time to recover,” Huang Youlan said, wiping the blood from her lips and shaking her head.
“This is our fault, we dragged you into this,” Huang Guyuan said guiltily.
“Enough of that. Let’s see how they plan to deal with us,” Huang Youlan replied.
Everyone looked up to see Elder Cang wave his hand, instantly subduing the entire Huang Clan’s upper ranks.
He glanced around and said calmly: “I meant what I said, only those who deserve to die will be killed. The innocent will not be touched.”
Then, he turned to Yan Buhui.
Taking a deep breath, Yan Buhui slowly drew his sword and stepped forward.
Sword intent surged around him; with every step, the pressure from his sword intensified.
The disciples of the Huang Clan huddled together, their faces pale and fearful as they stared at him.
“Cousin Buhui… I didn’t know any better back then. For the sake of our shared bloodline, please spare me!”
One couldn’t handle the pressure anymore and knelt to beg for mercy.
A flash of sword light, his head hit the ground.
“I can forgive you for oppressing me, but those who insulted my mother… none of you will escape.”
With those words, Yan Buhui charged into the crowd, sword in hand.
None dared resist, with an immortal watching from above, any resistance was futile.
The most terrified among them was Huang Tianxie, who had once gone so far as to try to expel Yan Buhui from the True Martial Sacred Ground.
“Father! Save me!” Huang Tianxie cried desperately to Huang Guyuan.
But the patriarch took a deep breath and stood still.
He dared not move. The immortal’s pressure loomed overhead, any rash action could cost him his life.
So he shut his eyes in despair.
In the central courtyard of the Huang Estate stood a rusted iron statue.
It depicted a long-haired man with a sword strapped to his back.
Once painted white, the robe had long since rusted over with iron flakes. The brilliance of the past was no longer visible.
The statue’s expression was a gentle, warm smile.
Huang Youlan slowly walked up to it, gently placing her hand on the corroded metal.
“You’ve let this statue of our ancestor rust away,” she said sadly.
The upper elders behind her stood silent, heads bowed in shame.
Ignoring the slaughter happening in the distance, Huang Youlan turned and shouted sternly:
“All of you, kneel. Reflect on your actions over the years!”
She dropped to her knees first.
There was once a man.
A Sword God named Desolate Sky.
He was the pride of the Huang Clan.
Because of him, the Dan Imperial Clan ceded Northwestern City to them.
He once fought for the Heaven’s Will against Grand Emperor Yin Tian. Though defeated, his honor remained intact.
Long ago, tales of the Sword God echoed throughout the Huang Clan.
He was the pride of their people, the legend of their city.
But with time, those legends faded.
Time’s dust buried all brilliance.
Now, watching the clan’s elders kneel in shame, the disciples followed suit, falling to their knees.
The statue still stood alone, rusted and quiet.
Its gentle smile never changed.
But no one noticed, the statue had begun to pulse with unfamiliar spiritual energy.
Meanwhile, Yan Buhui’s slaughter continued.
He vented all the resentment he had held for twenty years.
He had watched helplessly as his mother died while the clan turned a blind eye.
He had been oppressed and humiliated, even his deceased mother was mocked.
With every kill, his heart grew clearer, more unburdened. His cultivation surged with no resistance.
“I think the ancestor’s statue is… moving?”
One elder cautiously glanced at the statue.
The sword on the statue’s back seemed to vibrate, as if it was about to be drawn from its scabbard.
“What’s happening?” someone exclaimed in horror.
Just then, a sharp clang! split the sky.
The sound of a sword being drawn thundered across heaven and earth.
The rusty statue began to tremble violently.
A swirling black hole of spiritforce opened in its abdomen, deep, dark, and unknowable.
Up above, Elder Cang narrowed his eyes, watching with solemn interest.
A man stepped out from the black hole.
He wore black robes and a blood-red cloak that fluttered behind him.
The long sword once strapped to the statue’s back now gleamed brilliantly, the outer layer of rust flaking away.
The sword was reborn, its edge fierce and razor-sharp, purple patterns flowing along the blade.
A vast sea of sword intent surged around the man.
The moment he appeared, all the swords in the crowd began to tremble, as if recognizing their king.
They vibrated, resonating in submission.
“It’s… the Desolate Sky Sword God,” someone whispered in disbelief.
“The Sword Ancestor… he’s alive! He never left us!”
Tears of joy streamed down the faces of the Huang Clan. They shouted skyward.
Many fell to their knees in awe.
Even the bystanders who had come to watch joined in.
“Sword God! Sword God!”
His legend clearly still lived.
“I swept across the Five Domains. I conquered the Four Realms. Standing above the Sword Dao, I am invincible!"
His cold, commanding voice echoed through the heavens, carried by the sharp edge of his sword intent.