Chapter 576 - 572: Bloodbath

Chapter 576: Chapter 572: Bloodbath

Yan Wuji followed the stream of people entering the city and passed through the gate.

The City Gate Guard on duty merely glanced at him before looking away.

Martial Artists had all sorts of personalities. Some were flamboyant, while others were low-key. A Martial Artist dressed like him with his face covered was not an uncommon sight in the city, so there was nothing worth noting.

Yan Wuji stepped into the city.

Waves of clamor came from the taverns and teahouses lining the streets, and the shouts of vendors rose and fell. The air was a mix of fragrant food, the smell of dust, and the sweat of pedestrians.

He walked slowly along the main street, his gaze sizing up the bustling city from behind his black veil.

"It’s certainly lively."

He muttered to himself, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

But in the eyes hidden behind the black veil, a cold glint flashed and then vanished.

He didn’t pause. After walking a hundred paces down the main street, he turned into a relatively secluded alley.

The alley was flanked by old houses. Few people passed through, and those who did were plainly dressed, clearly not wealthy.

He stopped in the middle of the alley.

There, a tavern hung a worn-out cloth curtain over its entrance.

Its lintel was low, and one look was enough to tell it was the kind of shady place frequented by all walks of life.

Yan Wuji lifted the curtain and entered.

The tavern was dimly lit, with a few crooked tables scattered around the small space.

A few rough-looking men were gathered around a table further inside. On it were a few plates of peanuts and braised meat, along with several bowls of murky wine.

Seeing someone enter, one of the men lifted his eyelids and shot him a hostile glare.

"Never seen you before. Who do you run with?"

Yan Wuji didn’t answer.

He walked to the table and, under the hostile stares of the men, reached out his right hand and placed it on the head of the one who had spoken.

"You—"

The man was startled and began to struggle.

But Yan Wuji’s palm was like an iron clamp, completely unmoving.

The next instant, a suction force erupted from his palm.

The man’s body jolted violently. Then, like a fruit drained of its moisture, he shriveled at a speed visible to the naked eye.

His full muscles atrophied and collapsed. His bronze skin lost its luster, turning dry and sallow.

In a very short time, his once-fierce face transformed into that of a skeletal, desiccated corpse.

THUD.

The man’s body slid limply to the ground with a dull sound.

The other men were stunned for a moment before their faces paled. They scrambled to grab the weapons at their waists.

But Yan Wuji was faster.

His right hand shot out again, tapping several times in quick succession.

Three silent blasts of air shot from his fingertips.

A small, bloody hole appeared on the foreheads of all three men at the same time. The light in their eyes instantly faded, and their bodies crashed to the ground.

The last man was so frightened his face turned deathly pale. He trembled all over, muttering incoherent pleas for mercy.

Yan Wuji didn’t kill the last man.

He walked over to him and looked down at his face, which was contorted with fear. In a flat voice, he asked,

"Where are the Seven Sects’ branches in the city?"

The man, trembling uncontrollably, stammered out the locations of the Seven Sects’ branches that he knew.

Yan Wuji listened quietly. After confirming he had the information, he gently placed his right hand on the man’s head.

A moment later, the fifth corpse fell to the ground.

Yan Wuji withdrew his hand. His expression was calm as he glanced at the gruesome corpses inside the tavern.

Turning around, he lifted the curtain and disappeared back into the alley.

"A dignified Grandmaster like myself, reduced to personally handling a trivial matter like gathering intelligence..." he muttered, his voice carrying an irrepressible chill.

’Back when the Tiejiang Gang still existed, why would a Supreme Elder like me ever need to gather intelligence personally?’

’My subordinates would have handled these things perfectly. With a single order, detailed reports would have been delivered to my desk.’

’But now...’

’The Tiejiang Gang has been annihilated.’

’Everyone in the gang, from the Elders down to the ordinary members, has been executed.’

’Now, he was all alone.’

’He even had to handle trivial matters like gathering intelligence himself. The thought of this deepened his hatred for the Seven Sects.’

"The Seven Sects... the Qingxuan Sect..."

Yan Wuji muttered these names, his voice calm but filled with a bone-deep hatred.

This hatred intensified every time he thought about his current situation.

He crossed several streets and found an inconspicuous corner of the city to wait for nightfall.

...

「Night fell.」

The clamor of Baixia City gradually subsided.

The pedestrians on the streets thinned out. The lights in the houses went out one by one, and the entire city sank into the silence of the night.

Yan Wuji emerged slowly from the shadows where he had been hiding.

He looked up, his gaze turning toward the west of the city.

That was where the Qingxuan Sect’s branch was located.

Of the Seven Sects, he hated the Qingxuan Sect the most.

’If Fang Han hadn’t discovered Qi Zhen cultivating a Demon Skill and sent word back to the Qingxuan Sect... if the Qingxuan Sect hadn’t joined forces with the other six sects, how could the Tiejiang Gang have fallen apart in a single day?’

’He remembered this grudge clearly.’

"Tonight, I’ll start with you, Qingxuan Sect."

His voice was hoarse and low, filled with an irrepressible killing intent.

As his voice faded, his figure flickered and transformed into a dark shadow, silently melting into the night.

A short while later, he stopped outside a sprawling courtyard in the southern part of the city.

Above the courtyard gate hung a black plaque with gold lettering that read: Qingxuan Villa.

Two lanterns hung by the gate, swaying gently in the night wind and casting a dim yellow glow.

He vaulted over the wall. Two disciples were on guard duty behind it, looking drowsy.

His figure appeared behind them like a phantom.

Without any unnecessary movements, he reached out and gently placed his hands on the two disciples’ heads.

A flash of bloody light.

The two disciples’ bodies rapidly withered, turning into two desiccated corpses that fell silently to the ground.

Withdrawing his hands, he strode toward the lit buildings.

The courtyard was deathly quiet. A few scattered lights shone from several of the buildings.

The door to a side room was suddenly pushed open, and a middle-aged man wearing a Qingxuan Sect Steward’s Robe came out, apparently to relieve himself.

He looked up, and his eyes met Yan Wuji’s.

"You are—"

The Steward’s expression changed, and he was about to cry out a warning.

But Yan Wuji was faster.

His figure flashed, appearing before the Steward as if by teleportation. He shot out his right hand, fingers splayed, and clamped it directly onto the Steward’s head.

A suction force generated from his palm.

The Steward’s body trembled violently, a look of terror frozen on his face. He then rapidly shriveled and withered, like a dead tree drained of all life.

In less than two breaths, he had become a light, desiccated corpse.

Yan Wuji released his grip, letting the corpse slide silently to the ground.

His gaze swept across the courtyard as he walked slowly toward the side rooms.

Four Qingxuan Sect disciples were sleeping soundly in the first side room.

The door was pushed open without a sound.

Yan Wuji stood in the doorway, raised his right hand, and spread his fingers.

Four threads of blood-red Inner Qi shot from his fingertips like silk, precisely entering the foreheads of the four disciples.

The four disciples’ bodies shuddered simultaneously. Then, in their sleep, their Essence Qi was drained, and they silently turned into four desiccated corpses.

There were no screams, no struggles.

Yan Wuji turned and walked to the next building.

One room.

Then another.

His pace was not fast, but every step was steady and unhurried.

With every room he entered, several Qingxuan Sect disciples or Stewards had their Essence Qi devoured in their sleep and died.

A few who awoke tried to fight back, but these disciples, whose strength was at best in the Middle Three Grades, were engulfed by the terrifying blood-red Inner Qi before they could even get a clear look at their attacker.

Finally, he arrived before the largest main building in the depths of the courtyard.

This was the residence of the strongest expert in the Qingxuan Sect’s Baixia City branch—Second-Grade Elder Zhao Mai.

Yan Wuji did not conceal his aura.

He pushed the door open and walked right in.

Inside, Zhao Mai was already on alert, gripping his longsword and staring intently at the doorway.

"Who’s there?!"

he shouted, his voice laced with vigilance and caution.

But when he saw the intruder clearly, his pupils constricted abruptly.

Although he had only seen him once, he recognized the face—the Tiejiang Gang’s Supreme Elder, the Grandmaster Yan Wuji.

"Yan—"

He only had time to utter a single word.

Yan Wuji’s figure had already appeared before him.

That withered hand seemed to transcend the limits of space, appearing directly above his head.

He swung his sword horizontally with all his might, but before a Grandmaster Level expert, the full force of his Second Grade Cultivation couldn’t even break through Yan Wuji’s Protective Inner Qi.

The palm descended.

A terrifying suction force was generated.

Zhao Mai’s body shuddered violently. His eyes, filled with unwillingness and despair, quickly dimmed.

His body, just like all the others before him, shriveled and withered at a speed visible to the naked eye.

A moment later, a desiccated corpse fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Yan Wuji withdrew his hand and stood in the center of the main room.

He closed his eyes, feeling the blood-red Inner Qi within him grow fuller and more violent from devouring the Essence Qi of so many people. The corner of his mouth slowly curved into a cold arc.

"Qingxuan Sect branch... dealt with."

He opened his eyes and turned to walk out of the courtyard.

From infiltration to departure, only a few moments had passed.

The Qingxuan Sect’s branch Elder, Stewards, and disciples, fifty-three people in total, were all dead. There were no survivors.

...

「The night grew deeper.」

Yan Wuji’s figure appeared in a courtyard in the eastern part of the city.

This was the branch of the Baihua Valley.

Without hesitation, he vaulted over the wall and into the courtyard.

A moment later, a few short, muffled grunts came from the courtyard, which then fell silent again.

Baihua Valley branch: all forty-two people stationed there were killed.

...

The Overlord Blade Sect branch, also located in the eastern part of the city.

Yan Wuji’s figure vaulted over the wall and began killing on sight.

He was like the god of death, reaping one life after another.

Overlord Blade Sect branch: all thirty-seven people were killed.

...

The Lingyun Sword Sect branch in the northern part of the city.

The Vajra Temple branch in the northern part of the city.

The Tingyu Building branch in the central part of the city.

The Netherworld Pavilion branch in the western part of the city.

In a single night, Yan Wuji’s figure moved through every corner of Baixia City.

Every place he visited was left with a ground full of desiccated corpses. Not a single person escaped.

The blood-red Inner Qi surged ever more frenziedly within him. Each time he devoured Essence Qi, his aura grew a fraction stronger, and the crimson in his eyes deepened a shade.