Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

The young man who burst from the blood mist, judging by his Blood Qi fluctuations, should be at the Peak of Two Pillars.

But the terrifying aura now erupting from his body made Song Diao’s heart clench, chilling him to the bone.

It was as if the one charging toward them wasn’t a young man covered in wounds and drenched in blood, but a life-reaping specter that had crawled out of the Hell Abyss.

Song Diao’s legs grew weak, and he nearly stumbled to the ground.

Even Song Zhuo, the second-in-command of Grass Head Mountain walking ahead of him, couldn’t help but stiffen. A bone-deep chill shot up from his tailbone, raced up his spine, and burrowed into the back of his skull.

He, Song Zhuo, had run rampant in the Green Forest Dao for over a decade. He’d slaughtered countless people and was cruel enough to devour men and gnaw their bones. It had always been *his* aura that intimidated others; never before had someone else’s presence sent a chill down his spine and made his scalp tingle.

"Who... Who the hell are you!?"

Song Diao’s voice was shrill and trembling, its pitch completely distorted.

He had clearly already formed Three Pillars of Blood Qi, his Realm a full level higher than his opponent’s. Yet right now, he could clearly feel death closing in. An inexplicable terror chilled his heart and made his legs go weak.

He racked his brain but couldn’t fathom why the young man held such a profound grudge against him.

Another pained glint flashed in the depths of the young man’s eyes.

He forced himself to run even faster, the tip of his saber scraping a long trail of sparks across the ground.

Only when he was nearly upon them did he slowly spit out a single sentence.

"Early this year... Lunan District... the Lin Mansion... I’m the only one who survived..."

"The Lin Mansion?"

Song Diao still couldn’t recall it, his eyes filled with a blank confusion.

And the blank look in his eyes was like a steel awl, stabbing cruelly into the young man once more.

For the past six months, the young man had lived every single day in excruciating pain and torment.

The unbearable images haunted his dreams every night, impossible to shake.

He had trained his Martial Arts with suicidal fervor, pushing himself to the point of vomiting blood and fainting on several occasions. He had seared Song Diao’s face into his very bones, a constant reminder...

Remember! Remember!! REMEMBER!!!

However, the very culprit who had slaughtered his family and ruined his life was now looking him right in the eye...

...and couldn’t even remember who he was.

It was as if his family of six had been nothing more than a few ants, crushed underfoot without a second thought.

In that instant, the young man suddenly began to laugh.

It was a horribly twisted smile, so tragic it looked like a sob, so crazed it looked like madness.

He gritted his teeth. Something burned in his eyes. They weren’t tears. It was blood!

His blade rose.

In the blood mist, his figure grew more savage, almost like a Demon Fiend!

SHIIING—

A cold glint of light shot straight for Song Diao’s throat.

Song Diao’s heart felt as if it were caught in a vice. His legs were too weak to obey his commands. He was already severely wounded and had lost too much blood, leaving him in a daze.

For a moment, he couldn’t even muster an instinctive reaction and simply stood there, frozen.

"Idiot!"

Just as Song Diao was about to be cut down, a black shadow suddenly intervened.

It was unbelievably fast. The blade had struck first, but the shadow arrived before it.

One hand slapped the young man’s saber-wielding wrist while the other balled into a fist and struck out decisively.

BAM—

A muffled thud, like a sledgehammer hitting wet mud.

The young man’s whole body, as if yanked backward by an invisible giant hand, bent into an arch and went flying.

He slammed heavily into an earthen wall. With a great crash, half the wall collapsed, and a shower of broken bricks and dirt rained down, burying him underneath. Only his head, one hand, and one foot remained visible.

He went completely limp, vomiting mouthful after mouthful of blood. He no longer had the strength to even crawl out.

SLAP—

Instead of moving in for the kill, Song Zhuo, furious at his son’s incompetence, wheeled around and viciously slapped Song Diao across the face.

The latter’s fleshy cheek instantly swelled up, a five-fingered handprint clearly visible.

"Idiot! You useless piece of trash! How did I ever father a good-for-nothing like you?"

"I... He..."

Song Diao didn’t dare talk back. Instead, he drew a Curved Saber from his waist and stalked toward the young man, his face a mask of savagery.

His face dark, Song Zhuo fumbled for some Healing Medicine and hastily shoved it into his mouth.

His eyes dropped to the gash on his own shoulder.

He had exerted too much force while saving Song Diao just now, and the wound had torn open even wider.

Gleaming white bone was clearly visible amid the torn flesh.

He took a moment to compose himself, not even knitting his brow, and just spat a wad of bloody saliva onto the ground.

"Hurry up! And cut the damn crap!"

"Sigh..."

Song Diao nodded. He had indeed wanted to humiliate the young man for a bit, but after Song Zhuo’s rebuke, he could only suppress his desire for petty revenge.

"Dying this quickly is letting you off easy..."

He raised the Curved Saber, aiming the blade at the back of the young man’s neck.

WHOOSH—

Just then, a sharp whistling sound came from the mouth of the alley up ahead.

The sound was incredibly short and sharp, like the tearing of silk or the hiss of a striking viper.

By the time Song Diao and Song Zhuo registered the strange noise, a piece of a broken roof tile had already slammed precisely into the back of Song Diao’s hand.

The sound of sinew and bone snapping was enough to set one’s teeth on edge.

The tile pierced through the back of his hand, exited his palm, and embedded itself in the wall, carrying with it a spray of blood.

The wound looked as if it had been blasted open by a thunderclap; the surrounding skin was peeled back, revealing a mangled mess of flesh and blood.

Song Diao let out a scream like a stuck pig, the Curved Saber falling from his grasp.

Song Zhuo reacted in a flash. His gaze sharp as lightning, he whipped his head around to look in the direction the tile had come from...

The alley was completely empty. There wasn’t a soul in sight.

’Shit... there’s another expert! Time to go!’

Song Zhuo’s heart seized. Without a second thought for Song Diao’s life, he turned and bolted.

However, the alley ahead continued to narrow. His brawny frame made passage difficult, and in many places, he even had to turn sideways to squeeze through, drastically slowing him down.

Behind him, Song Diao didn’t bother picking up his Curved Saber, let alone killing the young man. With his mind set on nothing but escape, he blindly gave chase.

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