Unstoppable Martial Arts: Starting from Fist Technique Deduction
Chapter 200 - 56: Evil

Chapter 200: Chapter 56: Evil

At this moment, Hong Bangzhao sat quietly in the study, with an intelligence report sent by Jiang Yu laid out on the desk.

"The imagery of a sky interwoven with red and blue, especially in two days when only red will remain, and the weather appears abnormal." Hong Bangzhao’s eyes showed a contemplative expression.

"In that case, there are two powerful beings capable of altering the weather fighting, and the red side won." Hong Bangzhao deduced: "The incident took place near the back mountain between Quanya Village and Bull Horn Village."

"Bull Horn Village? Why does this place sound so familiar?" Hong Bangzhao had a flash in his mind, thinking continuously.

"Hmph! Unexpected, truly unexpected." Pei Zeqi sneered, finally remembering why this place was so familiar: "Lin Yuan took place here."

"Such a genius, cannot be disentangled from the matter!" Pei Zeqi’s eyes brightened.

The plan originally lacked a catalyst. But linking it to Lin Yuan’s birthplace, it became the key part of his implementation.

"The Pei family, the prefectural envoy, the Ghost Path Taoist! They will all vanish from Yanghua, and my Hong family will rise again, reborn in flames." Pei Zeqi laughed, his grin particularly ferocious.

Just as he was laughing maniacally.

Pei Zeqi and the others had quietly approached the courtyard of the Hong family head.

Boom!

Several already formed an enclosing formation, about five or six late-stage Condensed Origin cultivators, easily confronting and executing Hong Bangzhao who had just stepped into the late-stage Condensed Origin.

The urgency of killing the present head of the Hong family and once again breaking the backbone of the Hong family was extremely critical.

Pei Zeqi’s eyes were full of fierceness, breaking open the door in an instant.

Boom!

The door burst into countless pieces under his sudden burst.

"Hong Bangzhao, meet your death!"

Pei Zeqi shouted loudly.

In an instant, his figure darted in, stepping into the study.

The next moment, Pei Zeqi gradually stopped his movements.

"Where is he?!" Pei Zeqi’s face suddenly darkened, a deep sense of disappointment flashing within.

Pei Zeqi released his energy, exploring everywhere. But Hong Bangzhao had long left, nowhere to be found.

"Curse it!" Pei Zeqi’s eyes were full of rage, with nowhere to release the resentment in his chest.

Suddenly, a palm heavily slapped down on the exquisite desk.

Boom!

Crash!

The exquisite desk that a poor family couldn’t afford in a lifetime instantly shattered into countless pieces.

"Family Head?!"

Several elders also broke through the window, but their faces too showed deep disappointment.

The result of their deep calculations allowed the cunning Hong Bangzhao to escape, and they hadn’t received even a whisper of intel.

Elsewhere.

Zhan Ting also arrived at the mysterious dwelling.

Standing on the roof of the inner hall, Zhan Ting already sensed with his energy the deep dead air inside, a remnant left after the demon sect’s devouring.

Inside the room, it was pitch black. It seemed that even the light was being swallowed, with one eerie aura after another swirling around.

At this moment, Zhan Ting frowned deeply, looking towards the tightly closed door at the deepest point.

Clang!

A longsword trailing a crimson tail flame suddenly emerged from its sheath, ringing out in the air.

"Kill!"

The shout erupted from Zhan Ting’s heart, his eyes fixed fiercely on the door.

As soon as he spoke, the longsword shot towards the room.

Clang!

The door, along with its frame, was entirely reduced to countless fragments by the clean slice of the longsword. The longsword’s momentum did not diminish, continuing to thrust deeper into the room.

But it seemed there was no resistance in between.

Zhan Ting held the longsword firmly, constantly sensing feedback from the blade.

Suddenly.

"Not good!"

Zhan Ting’s complexion changed instantly: "Such heavy resentment, come back!"

Boom!

Seen under Zhan Ting’s control, the longsword arced through the pitch-black room and burst out of the window in a heartbeat.

One breath later, the longsword flew back.

But at this time, the glow on the longsword was extremely dim, with black, ink-like clusters constantly devouring the energy on the sword as if they were maggots clinging to the bone.

Zhan Ting’s face went pale as he forcibly suppressed the nausea rolling in his mind.

Seeing the longsword return, he steadied his grip on the sword hilt.

Sizzle!

A burnt, noxious odor continually emitted from the clinging maggot-like masses.

Zhan Ting’s face turned a shade whiter, continuing to pour abundant energy into the longsword.

Three breaths later.

Zhan Ting finally stopped, looking squarely at the sword which had accompanied him, its once sharp aura much diminished.

"Such intense resentment! One can only wonder how many Martial Artists’ life spirits this person devoured!" Zhan Ting wore a solemn expression.

This resentment was like a piercing north wind in the heart of winter, carrying a cold and keen edge that made one shudder.

It was the lingering obsession of departed souls, the lament of spirits denied their peaceful rest, the profound curses left behind after death.

"If this person continues to devour, this place will turn into a land of resentment, and who knows what eerie things might arise!" A shiver ran through Zhan Ting’s heart.

Fortunately, he discovered it early; otherwise, such a place gathered from the dead’s resentment would evolve into a land of the undead, devouring surrounding life and continuing to strengthen itself.

If left unchecked, it would gradually spread outward, becoming a maddening anomaly, with all life becoming fodder under its wrath.

"Such ghostly filth is truly disgusting." A deep loathing flashed in Zhan Ting’s eyes.

It was like not wiping your bottom after defecating, fouling up everyone around.

Even the demon sect was reluctant to face such foul creatures.

Because regardless of whether it was the demon sect’s ghostly energy or a Martial Artist’s vitality, they were part of the intent.

Devouring the life spirits of the dead, the demon sect left behind only these filthy abominations, pure madness, and pure malice, existing as a pollution of a Martial Artist’s intent, so much so that even the demon sect dared not touch them lightly.

"Such vile actions cannot be tolerated, not even by the demon sect. Not killing it will bring unending catastrophe."

Zhan Ting’s heart stirred with killing intent. But presently, he had to deal with the extremely troubling filth before him.

After a moment of meditation.

Swish!

Zhan Ting once again drew his longsword, flames exploding over its surface.

"Vein Aperture, release!"

With a low chant in his heart. Red flames rose across Zhan Ting’s entire body again.

Swish!

Gripping the longsword, he released a saber energy of about a dozen feet long.

Boom!

The entire rear house was split into two.

From the midst of the black hole-like room, endless dead air and resentment erupted, slowly surfacing in the void.

It was like a swarm formed by countless flies and mosquitoes, surfacing with countless twisted faces. The sorrowful and eerie resentful air, like the wails of countless departed souls, echoed in the vast sky, and also like an invisible toxic mist, permeated every inch of air.

"Slash again!"

Zhan Ting’s body suddenly stepped forward, flames roaring around him.

Swish swish swish!

Countless saber energies spread.

Each slash took away threads of resentment.

Rumble.

Surroundings shattered by countless saber energies, the ground was covered with deep grooves crisscrossing everywhere.

Finally, after who knows how many saber energies were wielded, the last wisp of resentment in the void was eradicated by him.

Zhan Ting was drenched in sweat, his tightly gripped longsword trembling slightly.

"Inspector, sir."

"Sir?"

Only then did Pei Zeqi and the others, hearing the commotion, arrive belatedly.

"Return to the academy, find Cao Qin. I need his assistance."

Zhan Ting finally recovered his breath, sheathing his longsword, and instructed in a deep voice.

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