Make the Immortal Sect Great Again

At first, it was just a rumble that seemed far away on the horizon.

But soon, the continuous roar closed in. It surged toward Wang Ping like a towering wave, carrying an indescribably terrifying momentum.

Rumble!

The air vibrated and the ground trembled. Blazing blood qi turned all of Longxing County into a furnace, rendering the rushing air waves scalding hot.

Looking out, a dense, black mass met the eye.

Over a hundred constables from the County Yamen had turned out in full force. Gone was their usual light armor and standard sabers; instead, they had donned gear that would make anyone's scalp prickle.

"Beast-Faced Armor, Crescent Blades... my god..."

"How is this possible? There is no rebel army attacking the city, and the commandery hasn't sent any decree... The magistrate actually dared to open the Armory without authorization? Is he planning a rebellion?"

"They're crazy! Completely insane!"

For the martial artists of the Great Shun, bare-handed combat was never the true foundation.

Ultimately, weapons dictated victory or defeat. Even an External Arts practitioner wielding a Divine Object could slaughter Internal Force experts like dogs.

That was exactly the case here. Among the hundred or so County Yamen constables, those who had broken through all six passes to reach External Arts Perfection could be counted on one hand. The vast majority had only broken through two or three. Yet, with all of them clad in heavy full-body armor and wielding horse-cleaving sabers, the situation changed completely.

Not to mention, they could form a military formation.

These constables already practiced the imperial court's standard martial arts and wielded its standard weapons. Linked together in formation, the amplification of their strength reached its absolute pinnacle.

No one felt this more deeply than Wang Ping.

Through his spiritual sense, he saw that the entity standing before him was no longer a mere hundred-man squad, but a breathing, moving mountain!

Every constable's breathing, heartbeat, and pulse fell into perfect synchronization. The weapons in their hands resonated as one. For a fleeting moment, Wang Ping could even see the phantom of an armored giant towering above the formation, glaring down at him with the same icy detachment as the golden-winged great roc coiled deep within the County Yamen.

"Strength in numbers..."

Wang Ping narrowed his eyes. He instantly realized why Shouchong hadn't pressed his attack into the County Yamen after ambushing and severely injuring Xu Bingzheng that day.

Because the imperial court's rule was never anchored to a single individual.

The chief constable dead? The magistrate severely injured? That would certainly shake the court's iron grip on Longxing County, but only temporarily. Any resulting chaos would be short-lived.

The true foundation of the imperial court lay in these hundred-plus constables, sustained by the grain of the entire county. As long as they stood, Longxing County would never truly fall into disorder.

"A group of External Arts practitioners, equipped with the court's superior weapons and mounts, backed by military formation tactics, can actually manifest a Divine Intent comparable to a Titled Martial Master. And this is with Chen Haoyan dead and no chief constable to anchor the array. Otherwise, their power would be even greater..."

Wang Ping slowly let out a breath.

Spiritual sense intimidation... isn't going to work. It might be fine in a one-on-one fight, but this formation is unshakable. I have to clash with them head-on.

A single man charging the ranks to break an army?

"He is seeking death!"

Watching the impending clash converge in the center of the county seat, an old man voiced his judgment without hesitation:

"There's no way he survives."

"Even if he were a Titled Martial Master, facing an array like this makes him no different from an ordinary Internal Force Martial Master. His Internal Force will be bled dry in no time."

"If he manages to kill more than ten of them, he'll have proven his skill."

It was an accepted truth in this golden age of martial arts: the only privileged warriors capable of matching an army single-handedly were those crowned with the Grandmaster Rank.

In other words, unless one achieved the Martial Dao Grandmaster Rank, facing a genuine army of martial artists—even a bare-minimum hundred-man squad at the county level—guaranteed a grueling battle. If an army's numbers swelled past ten thousand, even someone at the Martial Dao Grandmaster Rank would risk losing their life!

"By order of the magistrate!"

At the front of the formation, all the constables drew a collective breath and roared in perfect unison, their voices thundering, "Rebel Wang Ping, servant of demonic cults, gathering mobs to plot treason..."

"Shall be executed!"

Whoosh!

Their unified shout kicked up a visible shockwave through the air. In that exact moment, the military formation moved. Every constable charged at Wang Ping simultaneously.

Their advance was like a mountain collapsing.

Over a hundred heavy sabers rose high into the air, their cold gleams forming a dense forest of steel before hacking downward. In a split second, Wang Ping's entire field of vision was swallowed by blindingly bright blades!

And this was only the first volley. While the strike carried the consolidated momentum of the entire formation, only a dozen men had actually swung their blades. Dozens more waited just behind them. Even if Wang Ping exploded with all his might to block this initial barrage, the next wave would instantly follow up, denying him a single second to breathe.

This cycle would repeat for roughly ten volleys.

By the time the tenth wave struck, the men from the first volley would have recovered their stamina, ready to step back up and create an endless, suffocating loop of attacks.

The first clash will decide life and death.

His every instinct screamed with the stinging intuition of mortal danger, yet Wang Ping's mind settled into an eerie calm. Even his breathing grew deep and measured.

Against this kind of rotating execution array, the longer the fight drags on, the worse my odds become.

Their superior numbers allow them to cycle continuously without losing any destructive power. I am alone. My stamina and Internal Force will eventually run dry.

Therefore, the only way to break the array is to erupt with a force the formation simply cannot withstand on the very first strike, completely shattering their attack cycle.

The moment the thought formed, Wang Ping raised his foot and stomped violently onto the ground.

Instantly, the earth shook!

Great chunks of dirt exploded upward with Wang Ping at the epicenter. With the sheer force of his footfalls, the solid ground buckled and surged outward like a tidal wave!

The encircling constables had completely failed to anticipate this sudden tremor. They lost their footing, their previously flawless formation staggering in disarray. The suffocating canopy of blade-light scattered. Although they quickly began to close the gaps, it exposed a split-second opening.

"Heavenly Demon Disintegration Great Art!"

Wang Ping lunged forward. As he drew his long saber, a deep, bloody hue crept across his brow. The martial physique he had only recently forged violently shattered from within!

Then, a flash of the blade.

Art of War, King of Hell's Summons!

Driven to absolute maximum speed, the demonic saber completely surpassed the limits of human sight. The blade's trajectory manifested as a singular, blindingly brilliant streak of fire.

Within the expanding corona of fire, an earth-shattering hum rang out endlessly. It churned the surrounding dust and mist, manifesting the phantasmal images of spectral soldiers and ghostly generals before violently smashing into the opening of the constabulary's formation. The execution was utterly seamless, slicing through their impregnable, mountain-like array with terrifying ease!

The sight instantly stole the breath from every onlooker.

What was unfolding before their eyes didn't resemble a lone martial artist charging a military formation at all. Instead, it looked like two evenly matched armies colliding on a narrow battlefield!

The world fell dead silent.

A moment later, the bystanders finally realized this silence wasn't natural. It was a sensory illusion—the roar of the blade had been so deafening that it temporarily drowned out all other sound!

Another moment passed, and a chaotic cacophony finally bled through that bizarre quiet—the thud of bodies hitting the dirt, agonized screams, the screech of tearing metal. The once-impenetrable formation had completely collapsed. The terrifying Divine Intent that had loomed over them like a mountain dissolved into nothingness. Within the wreckage, only a single figure carved through the ranks with absolute impunity.

"This... this is impossible..."

The old man who had so confidently declared Wang Ping dead only moments ago now held his breath, his fists unconsciously clenched as he stared fixedly at the lone combatant.

Just who was this man, to possess such ferocious martial prowess?

"Could he be of the Martial Dao Grandmaster Rank? No, that's impossible. If he truly possessed the Martial Dao Grandmaster Rank, a mere hundred-man squad could be effortlessly suppressed without shedding a single drop of blood."

"What unmatched ferocity!"

Excitement flared on the faces of many onlookers. After all, taking on an army single-handedly and shattering their ranks was the ultimate fantasy of every martial artist.

However, reality quickly poured cold water on their excitement.

Wang Ping was far from unharmed inside the chaotic melee.

In fact, it was the exact opposite. With every step he took, he left behind pooling trails of blood, his body acquiring one or two new, bone-deep gashes.

A battlefield brawl was fundamentally different from a duel between martial artists.

In a duel, one could dodge and evade. In an army formation, there was zero space to maneuver. You could only tank the hits head-on until you couldn't anymore, and then you died. It was that simple.

Schlick!

Taking Wang Ping's blade directly, a constable sacrificed half of his heavy armor—spitting blood as he was sent flying—just to drag his Crescent Blade across Wang Ping's chest and rip a horrific gash.

Trading injury for injury.

This was the overwhelming advantage of superior equipment. Wrapped in heavy armor, a mere External Arts practitioner dared to trade blows with him—and he wouldn't necessarily die from the exchange.

Wang Ping didn't even have a chance to finish the man off. The moment that constable was thrown back, a ravenous pack of others swarmed forward. Relying on their sturdy armor and sheer numbers, they relentlessly whittled down his Internal Force and stamina. Meanwhile, four veteran constables who had reached External Arts Perfection hung back, observing from a safe distance.

Waiting for my Internal Force to run dry so you can come clean up the mess?

He had to admit, the tactic was flawless. While he could forcibly suppress his bleeding and knit his flesh using Qi Restriction, the depletion of his Internal Force was irreversible.

Wang Ping's eyes darted across the battlefield. He could already see the eaves of the County Yamen, but he was deadlocked at the final intersection, entirely unable to advance.

Even if he miraculously broke through this blockade, he would immediately face a coordinated assault from those veteran External Arts Perfection constables. And beyond them still waited Magistrate Xu Bingzheng, glaring out like a starving tiger.

The odds are grim.

Yet Wang Ping remained perfectly serene. In the end, he even deliberately stopped using his Qi Restriction to stem the bleeding, realizing that these catastrophic wounds were the key to his victory.

Indeed, his chance at victory—not his chance at survival.

The moment he had marched here, he had abandoned any intention of walking away alive. He was here for victory, and right now, he finally saw the thread that would lead him to it.

Because he was dying.

At this breaking point, the gap in raw strength ceased to matter. What mattered was that he was a dead man walking, while his enemies still had long lives ahead of them. Who would willingly throw their lives away against a dying man?

Why hadn't those veteran External Arts Perfection constables struck yet? If they had discarded their caution and spearheaded the initial charge, Wang Ping might have been cut down instantly. But they hadn't. They preferred to watch their own comrades bleed and die, safely cowering in the rear until Wang Ping had drained the absolute last of his stamina and Internal Force.

"Heh."

Wang Ping let out a cold scoff, sweeping a disdainful gaze across the bloody street. The formation he had violently punched through had reformed, drawing tightening circles to lock him firmly in the center.

"The outcome is decided!"

Deep within the County Yamen, amidst the heavy scent of medicinal herbs, Xu Bingzheng suddenly sat up from his bed. A chilling light gleamed in his eyes, and a faint smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Your reckless bravado ends here."

"I was just wondering how I was going to drag you back here. To think you'd march straight into the net yourself. You've saved me quite a bit of effort and time."

With that, Xu Bingzheng's voice abruptly pitched into a resounding roar:

"Cut him to pieces!"

At the command, the constabulary forces surged once more. But unlike their initial unyielding advance, the once-impenetrable formation had grown dangerously thin and noticeably hesitant.

Firstly, Wang Ping's monstrous strength had completely shattered their expectations. Propelled by the Heavenly Demon Disintegration Great Art, his Internal Force had multiplied several times over. His bloody rampage had already crippled nearly thirty men from their ranks. The agonized wails of the maimed constables still echoed beyond the edges of the formation.

That alone served as a terrifying deterrent.

Secondly, just as Wang Ping had predicted, there wasn't a single patch of intact flesh left on his body. He was bleeding profusely, clearly on the absolute brink of death. Why throw away your life fighting a corpse?

All they had to do was wait patiently for him to bleed out, and they could safely collect their bounties.

A cornered beast was the most dangerous. If someone charged in now and got dragged to hell in this dying man's final counterattack, what a miserable, pointless death that would be.

When it came down to it, they were only paid a meager monthly stipend. Why on earth would they risk their lives?

For a brief window, despite Wang Ping being trapped in a hopeless siege, not a single person stepped forward to finish him off. Their hesitation granted him the crucial second he needed to catch his breath.

In the next second, Wang Ping finally discarded his saber. He unslung the Black Hornless Dragon Bow from his back and gripped it tight, his other hand drawing a long arrow to nock against the string.

"Huu..."

With that final exhale, the absolute last remnants of his martial physique shattered entirely. In exchange for its destruction, he summoned an eruptive surge of Internal Force that transcended even his absolute peak!

He drew the bow back.

The raw Internal Force wrung from his body by the Heavenly Demon Disintegration Great Art manifested in a sickening, blood-red hue, pouring entirely into the arrow's steel tip.

The final bottleneck of the Cloud-Piercing Heaven-Shaking Bow—the technique he had studied tirelessly alongside Madam Su—effortlessly shattered. Wang Ping finally grasped the true essence of the art. As the ancient saying went: an arrow on the string must be fired. The absolute core of this technique was the unyielding, resolute conviction of an arrow leaving the bow.

An arrow released from the string never returns!

Cloud-Piercing Heaven-Shaking Bow, perfected!

Searing heat flooded into the arms anchoring the heavy bow, causing the crimson Internal Force concentrated on the arrowhead to burn with a blinding, incandescent brilliance.

Art of War, Frost-Chilling Arrow.

Art of War, Formation-Breaking Heavenly Dipper.

Wang Ping smoothly drew the string back, pulling until the Black Hornless Dragon Bow itself let out a strained, groaning dragon's cry, unable to bear the immense pressure. Only then did he level the shot toward the distant County Yamen.

Throughout this entire process, not a single soul stepped forward to stop him.

Everyone could plainly see that this was his dying strike. Whoever dared to step in front of that arrow would simply be throwing their life away.

Thus, as Wang Ping raised his bow, the constables surrounding him not only made zero effort to block him—they actively scrambled backward, opening a clear channel through their ranks. This unbelievable sight left the distant onlookers completely dumbfounded. Inside the Yamen, Xu Bingzheng's previously unshakable confidence evaporated in an instant, his face contorting as he threw himself fully upright!

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