Chapter 564 - 560: The Seven Sect Leaders

Chapter 564: Chapter 560: The Seven Sect Leaders

Fang Han pondered for a moment, then shook his head slightly.

Secret Technique Talent, after all, was merely for support.

Compared to Talents like Root Bone, Swordsmanship, Step Technique, and Horizontal Training—which directly impacted one’s combat power and Cultivation speed—it was a tier less important.

Rather than spend a million gold on Secret Technique Talent, he would rather save it to accumulate the wealth needed to unlock the Ninth Level Amplification.

The Ninth Level Amplification required ten million gold.

It was a staggering figure that required early preparation.

This latest deposit had brought his wealth to one and a half million gold—a good start.

’Qi Zhen was cultivating a Demon Skill. The Tiejiang Gang is definitely involved.’

Fang Han closed the system panel, his gaze falling back onto Qi Zhen’s corpse.

Qi Zhen was the Gang Leader of the Tiejiang Gang. If even he cultivated a Demon Skill, there was no way the Tiejiang Gang wasn’t involved.

He even suspected that the reason the Tiejiang Gang’s Supreme Elder, Yan Wuji, had managed to break through to the Grandmaster realm was likely because he had also cultivated a Demon Skill.

Otherwise, how could a faction that had never before produced a Grandmaster suddenly have one?

’The Tiejiang Gang has been frantically absorbing other factions recently. On the surface, it’s to strengthen themselves, but the real reason is probably for their Demon Skill cultivation.’

Fang Han thought of the Martial Artists from the factions recently absorbed by the Tiejiang Gang.

Those Martial Artists had probably all become fodder for the Tiejiang Gang’s Demon Skill cultivation.

And the missing experts from the major factions affiliated with the Seven Sects were very likely also secretly captured by the Tiejiang Gang, their Essence Qi devoured.

The Tiejiang Gang was very likely a deeply hidden gang that cultivated Demon Skills.

Previously, whenever he thought of the Tiejiang Gang, he would feel a sense of unease.

The unease was baseless, without evidence—nothing more than an instinct for danger.

Now, the mystery was revealed.

’I must get this information back to the Sect immediately.’

Fang Han stood up, took a cloth sack from his Storage Ring, and stuffed Qi Zhen’s corpse inside.

The corpse weighed over a hundred pounds, but compared to his physical strength—rated at three hundred thousand—it felt as light as nothing.

He tied the sack shut, picked it up, got his bearings, and used his Body Technique to speed toward the nearest city.

His green robes fluttered slightly in the autumn wind, the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist swaying gently with his pace.

The cloth sack in his hand swung gently in time with his swift pace.

Over two hours later, the silhouette of a small city appeared on the horizon.

The city walls were not high, built of dusty gray stone blocks, and the banners on the battlements drooped lazily in the autumn wind.

Fang Han stopped before the city gate, and carrying the cloth sack, strode inside.

The city wasn’t particularly bustling. Shops were scattered sparsely along the main street, and there were few pedestrians.

His gaze swept across the street, and he quickly locked onto a three-story wooden building.

The wooden building featured upturned eaves. A plaque hung above the entrance, inscribed with the two words "Qingxuan Villa"—this was one of the outposts established by the Qingxuan Sect in the various cities of the county.

As Fang Han walked up the stone steps, the two disciples on guard duty were startled at the sight of him before quickly bowing in greeting.

"Senior Brother Fang."

One of them hurried forward to greet him. His gaze fell on the cloth sack in Fang Han’s hand, and though a flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, he didn’t dare to ask about it.

"I need to send a message back to the Sect," Fang Han said.

"Do you have a Mail Eagle for an urgent report?"

"We do."

The disciple quickly stepped aside and gestured.

"Senior Brother Fang, please follow me."

Carrying the sack, Fang Han followed the disciple through the front courtyard and into a secluded one in the back.

A wooden rack stood in the courtyard, upon which perched several gray-feathered Mail Eagles with sharp talons, sharp beaks, and piercing eyes.

The disciple retrieved a long, thin strip of paper and a charcoal pencil from a room, presenting them with both hands.

Fang Han accepted them, placed the sack by his feet, and began to write swiftly on the paper strip.

The message was concise, but every word carried immense weight—

"Tiejiang Gang Leader Qi Zhen was cultivating a Demon Skill. He has been slain by me. The Tiejiang Gang is very likely a deeply hidden sect practicing Demon Skills. I await the Sect Leader’s decision."

After writing, he folded the paper into a thin strip, took a Mail Eagle from the rack, and carefully tied the note to its leg.

The Mail Eagle flapped its wings and settled on his arm. It tilted its head and gently preened the feathers under its wing with its beak.

With a flick of his arm, Fang Han launched the Mail Eagle. It spread its wings and shot into the sky, circled once above the courtyard to get its bearings, and then streaked away in the direction of the Qingxuan Sect.

The gray shadow grew more distant, soon becoming a tiny black dot that vanished into the darkening twilight sky.

The disciple stood to one side with his hands lowered, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Although he didn’t know what was written on the note, he could tell from Fang Han’s grave expression that it was a matter of great importance.

Standing in the courtyard with his hands clasped behind his back, Fang Han stared in the direction the Mail Eagle had vanished, silent for a long while.

’A faction with a Grandmaster in its ranks is cultivating a Demon Skill. This is no longer a matter for the Qingxuan Sect alone, but for all of Qingyang County.’

’The Seven Sects might tolerate the Tiejiang Gang’s rise, and they might tolerate it absorbing other factions, but they would never tolerate a power that cultivates Demon Skills taking root and growing strong within Qingyang County.’

’Demon Skills were a line the Seven Sects would not allow to be crossed.’

’Next, the Seven Sects would most likely join forces to annihilate the Tiejiang Gang.’

Fang Han withdrew his gaze and spoke to the disciple.

"Arrange a Quiet Chamber for me. I need to rest here for a few days."

"Yes, Senior Brother Fang."

The disciple bowed in assent. He first led Fang Han to a place to store Qi Zhen’s corpse, then guided him through a covered walkway to a serene guest room deep within the villa.

He pushed the door open. The room’s furnishings were simple: a bed, a table, and a chair. A wooden stand stood in the corner, holding a bronze incense burner.

"If Senior Brother Fang requires anything else, please do not hesitate to ask," the disciple said, his hands at his sides.

"That won’t be necessary."

Fang Han shook his head slightly, unfastened the Cloud Splitting Sword from his waist, and leaned it against the headboard.

The disciple bowed, exited the room, and gently closed the door behind him.

「Two days later, in the small city.」

The street where the Qingxuan Villa was located was tranquil. The autumn sun spread lazily over the flagstone pavement, where occasional leaves drifted down, only to be caught by the wind, swirled up, and then released.

A few gray sparrows hopped about on the old scholar tree outside the courtyard wall, letting out soft chirps.

Fang Han sat cross-legged by the window, eyes closed in meditation, when they suddenly snapped open.

Through the perception of his Thousand Mile Soul Lock technique, he sensed seven immensely powerful auras streaking in from outside the city gate. They moved at an astonishing speed; pedestrians on the street were completely oblivious, feeling nothing more than a faint breeze brush past their faces.

Each of the seven auras was as deep as an abyss, far surpassing that of an ordinary First Grade Martial Artist.

One of them was exceptionally familiar—stable, profound, and possessing a gentle quality like warm jade. It was the aura of the Qingxuan Sect’s Leader, Chen Tianyuan.

Fang Han rose, straightened his robes, and walked briskly toward the courtyard gate.

Just as he stepped out of the gate, seven figures rounded the corner at the end of the street.

The man in the lead wore a deep green robe and had a refined, scholarly face. It was Chen Tianyuan.

The six people behind him were dressed differently, each with a unique expression, but all of them carried the distinct, steady air of someone holding a high position.

Abbot Kudu of the Vajra Temple wore a gray monk’s robe. His face was gaunt, his eyes downcast, and a string of prayer beads moved slowly through his hands.

Sect Leader Lei Pojun of the Overlord Blade Sect wore black martial attire. His build was burly, a massive broadsword hung at his waist, and his gait had a certain ruggedness to it.

Sect Leader Xie Changkong of the Lingyun Sword Sect wore a moon-white robe. He was handsome, with a sheathed longsword at his waist, and his pace was so unhurried he looked as if he were on a leisurely stroll.

Tower Lord Shen Tinglan of Tingyu Building wore a blue-gray robe and had an ordinary face. He was inconspicuous among the group, yet he somehow possessed a presence that was impossible to ignore.

Valley Master Hua Nishang of Baihua Valley wore a light pink dress. She had a lovely face, and though she was a woman of a certain age, she still possessed a captivating charm, with a faint smile gracing her lips.

Pavilion Master Ling Wuyuan of the Netherworld Pavilion wore wide, pitch-black robes. His handsome face was tinged with a sinister gloom. He walked with his hands behind his back, and his gaze seemed to sweep a palpable chill over everything it touched.

Fang Han hurried forward to meet them, stopping at the foot of the steps and bowing deeply. "Disciple Fang Han greets the Sect Leader and all the other Sect Leaders."

"No need for such ceremony," Chen Tianyuan said with a wave of his hand, his gaze lingering on Fang Han for a moment.

"Where is Qi Zhen’s body?"

"I have it stored in a room."

Fang Han straightened up and gestured for them to follow.

The seven leaders followed Fang Han through the front courtyard and along a covered walkway toward the back.

The disciples on duty had already been sent away, leaving the entire villa so quiet that the only sound was the soft thud of their boots on the stone tiles.

They passed through two moon gates and arrived at a room deep within the villa, one that was normally used for storage.

Fang Han pushed the door open and stepped aside.

The room wasn’t large. Qi Zhen’s corpse lay on a wooden plank inside.

Chen Tianyuan stepped inside first, and the other six followed in single file.

All seven leaders fixed their gazes on Qi Zhen’s corpse. Their expressions varied, but each was tinged with an indescribable gravity.

Chen Tianyuan took a step forward, reached out his right hand, and placed it on Qi Zhen’s chest.

He closed his eyes, and a wisp of Inner Qi flowed from his palm, probing into Qi Zhen’s body.

"There are indeed traces of a Demon Skill."

After a moment, he opened his eyes, withdrew his hand, and turned to Kudu beside him.

"Abbot, please take a look."

Kudu nodded slightly, stepped forward, and placed his gaunt hand on Qi Zhen’s chest.

He closed his eyes to sense it. The prayer beads in his hand stopped moving, and the wrinkles on his gaunt face seemed to deepen.

After a long moment, he withdrew his hand and softly recited a Buddha’s name:

"Amitabha Buddha. It is undoubtedly a Demon Skill."

Kudu’s voice was peaceful, but it carried a weight that could not be suppressed.

"Though the deceased has been dead for some time, the traces of the Demon Skill’s corruption still linger in his meridians. The aura is violent and twisted, completely different from orthodox Inner Qi."

Lei Pojun strode forward and pressed a palm to Qi Zhen’s chest. He withdrew it a moment later, a muscle in his rugged face twitching slightly.

"That’s right. It’s a Demon Skill."

Xie Changkong didn’t speak. He simply stepped forward to probe with his hand, and when he drew it back, his brow was deeply furrowed.

Shen Tinglan came forward, placed his palm on Qi Zhen’s chest, and closed his eyes for a long time. When he opened them, a cold glint flashed through his otherwise placid eyes.

He said nothing, only giving a slight nod.

Hua Nishang stepped forward and placed her slender palm on Qi Zhen’s chest. When she withdrew it a moment later, the faint smile had vanished from her lips.

Ling Wuyuan was the last to step forward.

He reached out, placed his hand on Qi Zhen’s chest, and closed his eyes to sense it for a moment. When he pulled his hand back, a rare look of gravity had appeared on his sinister face.

The room fell into a brief silence, broken only by the faint whistling of the wind seeping through the cracks in the window frame.