Make the Immortal Sect Great Again

It wasn't until the Xuanjia Camp's volley of arrows tore into the County Yamen, brazenly smashing through the main gates, that Xu Bingzheng finally realized what was happening.

His first reaction was sheer bewilderment.

'How dare these filthy grunts?'

'Who gave them the nerve?'

An imperial army openly attacking an imperial County Yamen—for a moment, Xu Bingzheng genuinely suspected the Xuanjia Camp had rebelled.

Beside him, however, Li Yiran reacted with blinding speed. The instant the arrows rained down, he stomped heavily on the ground, sank his breath into his dantian, and opened his mouth. A massive, whale-like intake of air roared from his throat, collapsing the surrounding air currents into a swirling vortex.

Once he had drawn in that single, massive breath...

Li Yiran snapped his jaws shut. His chest visibly ballooned, and blood rushed to his neck, painting his skin as though he had been splashed with red ink.

"Zha!"

It sounded as if a thunderbolt had detonated within a three-chi radius around him. Billowing air exploded outward in ring after ring, transforming the invisible breath into a tangible, murky wave. The sonic boom reverberated with the force of a vajra, causing the entire County Yamen to hum—and violently shaking every arrow that had fallen into the compound.

Clatter!

The previously uniform volley of arrows shattered under the bizarre sonic vibration, utterly scattering when the turbulent wave of air washed over them.

It was an almost miraculous sight.

With a single cold grunt, Li Yiran had seemingly clad himself in an invisible suit of armor extending three chi in every direction. It was watertight, and the sky-blotting rain of arrows couldn't harm him in the slightest!

Moreover, he seemed to have used some secret technique to focus the roaring thunder-sound in a single direction. Like an invisible sonic cannonball, it smashed directly into a corner of the Xuanjia Camp's formation outside the County Yamen. Wherever the soundwave passed, soldiers suffered agonizing eardrum pain, seeing stars and swaying dizzily on their feet.

The once-pristine military formation instantly revealed a flaw.

"...Go!"

Seizing the opportunity, Li Yiran grabbed Xu Bingzheng and darted out of the County Yamen in a flash, sprinting madly toward the gap in the formation.

Li Yiran saw the situation with crystal clarity.

Assaulting the County Yamen meant all pretenses had been entirely shattered. At a time like this, imperial laws were empty words; absolute power was the only thing that dictated the outcome.

Xu Bingzheng had panicked because he lacked the strength to defend himself, but Li Yiran was different. As a Human Ranking Martial Master, he alone was enough to match the Xuanjia Camp. This was precisely why he had been able to sit back and watch with such ease earlier. Even now, with hostilities fully out in the open, he was confident he still had the situation under control.

'A mere Xuanjia Camp can't take me down.'

'As long as I keep moving and skirmishing within the city until the Tabai Camp arrives, the tides will instantly turn... In fact, I should just use this chance to slaughter these filthy grunts!'

At this thought, a flash of venomous malice flickered in Li Yiran's eyes.

Composed as he was, the Xuanjia Camp's assault on the County Yamen still infuriated him. It was the burning rage of a superior being insubordinately challenged by his lessers.

How many years had it been?

Ever since the Great Shun was founded and agreed to share the realm with the scholar-officials, how many years had it been since a dignified civil official from the National Academy was pushed to such a brink by military brutes?

This was simply an outrage against the heavens!

If this vile trend wasn't immediately stopped, ripped out by the roots, and made an example of, these stinking grunts would attack a city today and murder officials tomorrow!

In an instant, Li Yiran made up his mind. This Xuanjia Camp could not be allowed to survive. He wouldn't just use this opportunity to bury every last soldier here in Longxing County; afterward, he would report this to his mentor and force the Changle Commandery authorities to revoke the camp's military designation, banishing all the soldiers' families to the Northern Plains...

"Kill!"

An angry bellow shattered Li Yiran's thoughts. He looked up to see an overwhelming wave of black-armored soldiers surging toward his position, closing the net.

A military formation's strangling slaughter!

The troops moved with practiced efficiency, clearly having run these drills thousands of times. As they charged, they acted like a massive meat grinder locking the two men in the center.

More than that, as the soldiers in the formation roared in unison, it was as if an unseen, majestic armored giant rose up from within the Xuanjia Camp ranks. The aura of a hundred battles shot straight into the heavens, temporarily ripping apart the cumulonimbus clouds overhead to reveal the pristine azure sky.

Almost simultaneously, Li Yiran felt his body grow incredibly heavy.

Suppressed by the military formation, even the air seemed to gain physical substance, turning into impenetrable steel that weighed down on him like heavy shackles and chains.

This was a true army!

The Great Shun Dynasty didn't rule the vast divine land by relying on a handful of men at the Martial Dao Grandmaster Rank. It relied on tens of thousands of military formations just like the Xuanjia Camp!

Just then, a man made his move.

Wu Xintai, Commander of the Xuanjia Camp. In this exact moment, he represented the entire military formation, fully bearing the imperial title bestowed upon the Xuanjia Camp.

Empowered by the formation, the man who was normally just an Internal Force Martial Master violently shattered his mental bottleneck. His will synchronized with the unseen armored giant, manifesting Divine Intent that rivaled Li Yiran's own. He then stepped forward in one smooth, unbroken motion—

And drew his saber!

Clang!

The blade's edge condensed into a single thread bridging heaven and earth, yet its momentum was compressed to the absolute limit. There were no shockwaves, no deafening booms. There was only a soft metallic ring and a blindingly fast flash of steel.

Li Yiran's pupils contracted to pinpricks!

Wu Xintai's strike perfectly mirrored his personality. He would remain perfectly still until the moment struck, and then he would unleash an earth-shattering blow. This saber sweep was brimming with lethal intent; it was drawn solely to draw blood!

The timing was impeccable, striking right at the exact instant Li Yiran was heavily besieged by the formation, his Divine Intent and aura suppressed to their absolute lowest point. What's more, the strike wasn't aimed at his vitals, but at his legs. Wu Xintai was clearly planning to cripple his mobility first before slowly slicing him apart with a blunt knife.

"Filthy grunt!" Li Yiran grit his teeth.

Not only was the man launching a sneak attack from within the safety of his formation, but he was also aiming for the legs.

This was absolutely not how two armies fought; it was a tactic designed specifically to hunt down martial experts. Being subjected to it right now instantly filled Li Yiran with a profound sense of fatal crisis.

In a flash of lightning, Li Yiran's large sleeves fluttered.

Without warning, a Xuan calligraphy brush with a golden shaft and silver bristles appeared in his grasp. The brush tip was as sharp as a blade. He immediately channeled his Internal Force into it, causing the weapon to spin rapidly.

Then, he thrust the brush forward. It looked like a straight line, but in reality, it was constantly vibrating, tearing through the air and emitting a hissing sound like a striking viper. Infused with Internal Force, the tip grew searingly hot, carrying a blistering wave of heat that felt like a True Dragon exhaling flames.

His brush moved like dragons and snakes; it was the epitome of martial calligraphy!

Clang!

The brush tip and the saber edge violently collided. The Divine Intent infused within both weapons clashed in the unseen realm, bringing time itself to a seeming standstill.

For Wu Xintai, it felt as though the armored giant he had embodied had suddenly plunged into an infinitely vast scroll-painting of rivers and mountains. No matter how hard he ran, chasing the sun and drinking the seas dry, he could never escape its borders. This was a sign that his Divine Intent was being suppressed. He had lost by half a move in their spiritual clash.

"What a mighty River and Mountain Brush..."

In the next second, time resumed its flow. Wu Xintai sighed. He watched ink and brushstrokes splatter before his eyes as Li Yiran casually deflected his all-out slash.

Simultaneously, the surrounding ground caved in with a deafening boom, sending dirt and sand flying in all directions.

The fully formed military array was instantly smashed apart. Soldiers dropped their armor and weapons, retreating in a miserable scramble. Within a dozen meters of Li Yiran, the area was suddenly completely empty.

This was how Titled Martial Masters fought.

At this Realm, relying on martial techniques, raw strength, and physical prowess was an inferior approach. Whoever claimed the spiritual advantage would inevitably reign supreme.

Ultimately, Wu Xintai just wasn't strong enough.

If he were a Titled Martial Master himself, or if the Xuanjia Camp had been expanded to a thousand men, his strike just now would have unleashed the might of armored cavalry to shatter those painted mountains and rivers.

Even so, Wu Xintai's reaction wasn't slow in the slightest. The moment his attack failed, he immediately retreated. As long as the enemy remained trapped within the formation, he would always find another opportunity.

After all, a person couldn't maintain their peak mental state forever. As physical stamina waned, time passed, and various external factors took their toll, one's mental condition would invariably deteriorate, weakening their Divine Intent in turn. A prolonged battle was to his advantage; Li Yiran was the one who needed to rush.

However... Wu Xintai had miscalculated.

The sheer pressure exuded by a Human Ranking Martial Master like Li Yiran had caused him to completely forget the other Titled Martial Master on the battlefield—Xu Bingzheng, who had been fleeing right alongside the scholar.

At the exact moment Li Yiran used his brush to shatter the formation's strangling net...

Swish!

Amidst the clouds of dust, a streak of golden light shot up from the ground. Like a grappling hook, it latched onto the empty canopy of the sky, hauling two figures up with it.

The Divine Rope!

Xu Bingzheng's claim to fame, a Famous Treasure grade weapon and the ultimate aerial escape tool, had finally carved out a path to survival amidst the Xuanjia Camp's siege.

In the blink of an eye, Li Yiran and Xu Bingzheng soared straight up, quietly vanishing into the depths of the cumulonimbus rainclouds.

"Th-this..."

Wu Xintai stared in dumbfounded shock. He hastily ordered his men to loose their arrows, but it was too late. The pair had already broken out of the military formation's range, touching down much further away in the city streets.

"...Chase them down!"

Wu Xintai roared his command, though his heart felt a bit cold. The Xuanjia Camp's soldiers were entirely clad in heavy armor; they severely lacked mobility.

Therefore, despite giving the order, he had already made his assessment:

'We probably... won't catch them.'

'What do we do now?'

Thinking this, he subconsciously turned around, intending to ask the young Brocade Guard who had ordered the siege for his input, only to be stunned to find the man had vanished.

Where did he go? When?

Wrapped in the military formation's might, Wu Xintai was currently no weaker than a Human Ranking Martial Master. Yet, the young man had left the formation without him noticing a single thing.

How did he manage that?

...

The heavy rain was still pouring.

Even though the Xuanjia Camp's lethal military aura had temporarily torn through the dark clouds, it hadn't changed the overarching weather. Right now, Longxing County was still blanketed under a torrential downpour.

Wang Ping strolled leisurely through the deluge.

The raindrops that landed on him simply rolled off in smooth beads. All moisture was shaken away by an invisible vibrating force, leaving his clothes completely dry.

Meanwhile, his life aura had dwindled to the absolute extreme. His heartbeat, his breathing, his footsteps—all of them were imperceptibly faint. Rather than a living person, he resembled a piece of rotting wood, making everyone completely ignore his presence. Not even Wu Xintai had sensed a thing as Wang Ping effortlessly strolled out of the formation.

'I didn't expect the Life-Stealing Thief to have such a miraculous secondary effect.'

There was naturally a reason this immortal technique had been named with the word "Thief." What Wang Ping was utilizing right now was its secret art for perfectly concealing one's life force and vital essence.

In this state, he could almost exclusively be perceived by the naked eye.

Spiritual sense couldn't detect him, and Divine Intent couldn't perceive him. He was like a nonexistent phantom drifting through the curtains of rain, quietly sizing up his prey.

'Think you can run?'

His gaze locked onto Xu Bingzheng and Li Yiran in the distance. Without breaking his stride, he rapidly closed in on them with ghostly speed.

...

"Preposterous... absolutely preposterous!"

Descending from the sky once more, Xu Bingzheng finally breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Longxing County city gates looming right in front of him, having thoroughly left the Xuanjia Camp in the dust.

The moment he relaxed, his mind immediately snapped back to all the wealth he'd been forced to abandon because he'd fled in such a hurry. All the bribes he'd collected over his years as the county magistrate—the ice allowances for summer, the charcoal stipends for winter, the parting gifts, the festival tributes, the elegant kickbacks... They had filled an entire study, but now, it was all going to line the pockets of those uncultured grunts.

Was there any justice left in this world?

At this thought, Xu Bingzheng's heart bled. Looking back, it felt as if nothing had gone right for him ever since Chen Haoyan died.

Unfortunately, he was still running for his life.

No matter how reluctant he felt to part with his riches, he had to cut his losses. Swallowing his humiliation, Xu Bingzheng silently swore in his heart that he would absolutely return one day to settle this score once and for all...

Soon enough, the two men finally reached the city gates.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Right at that moment, the rhythmic rumbling of tremors rolled in from the distance. Li Yiran was the first to react, his face immediately lighting up with joy. "It's cavalry. The Tabai Camp is here!"

At those words, Xu Bingzheng was overjoyed.

After all, his martial arts were nowhere near Li Yiran's level. The Xuanjia Camp couldn't kill Li Yiran, but it would have been easy for them to kill him, which had left him feeling constantly unsafe.

But with the protection of the Tabai Camp, he no longer had anything to worry about.

Thinking of this, the heavy stone hanging over his heart finally settled...

In that exact fraction of a second, a sudden, explosive boom rang in his ears. It was his own heartbeat. The previously steady thumping had wildly lost its rhythm.

What was happening?

No, wait!

In a flash of lightning, Xu Bingzheng instantly understood what was happening—his Divine Intent was warning him! His instincts as a Titled Martial Master were screaming that mortal danger was descending!

In a split second, Xu Bingzheng pushed his Divine Intent to its absolute limits. The world in his eyes slowed down countless times over, and he began frantically formulating a countermeasure. But in the very next second, his vision abruptly darkened. Within the world that should have been virtually frozen, a fist suddenly appeared, slowly descending right toward his skull.

'Courting death...'

After a brief moment of shock, Xu Bingzheng immediately regained his composure and sneered internally. 'Did he not know that Titled Martial Masters have Divine Intent protecting their bodies, completely immune to sneak attacks?'

Looking at this fist, it didn't even seem to possess a trace of Internal Force.

A practitioner of the External Arts?

Xu Bingzheng's expression grew increasingly contemptuous. However, recalling the sheer terror of the crisis he'd just felt, he cautiously decided to probe the attacker with his senses one more time.

'Hmm, he's practiced quite a few martial arts.'

'But they're all third-rate skills. What does it matter even if he's trained them to consummation? He isn't even holding a weapon. How much power could a bare fist possibly have...'

Brimming with absolute confidence, Xu Bingzheng unfurled his Divine Rope.

Then, his face changed.

The fist simply plunged straight into the invisible net cast by the Divine Rope without the slightest pause. Its speed hadn't decreased by a single fraction.

It possessed no profound martial forms. It possessed no Divine Intent.

It was just a simple, unadorned punch, yet it carried a fatal courage and an absolute conviction of victory. Backed by such resolve, this fist could shatter anything in its path and triumph over all obstacles.

"Huh?"

Xu Bingzheng's eyes went wide. He watched helplessly as his Divine Rope, a Famous Treasure grade weapon, was effortlessly pierced right through by that solitary fist.

And then, the fist struck his chest.

For a fleeting moment, he didn't even feel the impact. His heart, his internal organs, his bones... all sensation of his entire physical body vanished from his awareness.

His physical shell remained standing where it was; he wasn't sent flying. This was because not a single ounce of the force imbued into that punch had been wasted. Every last drop of kinetic energy had been poured directly into his body, turning him into a ruptured sandbag. Blood madly geysered from his seven orifices, and his soul felt as if it had been ripped out of his body, floating listlessly up into the air.

What just happened?

Where was my Golden Silk Soft Armor? Where was my Ten Thousand Threads Dust-Repelling Robe? Where was my Heavenly Roc Dragon Capture Force? Where was my thousand-tempered physique?

Why didn't any of it block the attack!?

His thoughts came to a grinding halt.

Because the fist that had torn through his Divine Rope and consecutively pulverized all of his protective artifacts finally landed lightly upon his skull.

In his delirious daze, Xu Bingzheng saw it.

He saw the owner of the fist. He recognized the young military officer who had been standing next to Wu Xintai, and he finally understood why the man had looked so familiar earlier.

"It's you!?"

That young constable who had dared to charge the County Yamen all by himself, the one whose corpse had mysteriously vanished after he died in battle... He wasn't dead? Had he come back to exact his revenge?

No, that's impossible.

He was nothing more than an Internal Force Martial Master. How could he possibly possess this kind of strength? It didn't make sense... This was fake. It had to be fake, an illusion fabricated by his Divine Intent!

Xu Bingzheng desperately channeled his Divine Intent, trying to see through the "illusion" before his eyes.

Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the fist before him remained absolutely, undeniably real. The only thing he could truly see was the Art of War entwined around that strike.

Bronze Head Iron Forehead, Arms Bearing a Thousand Jun, Ground-Rooted Vajra, Hundred-Step Divine Fist, Stele-Splitting and Rock-Shattering, Earth-Treading Steel-Piercing, Mountain-Sinking Elbow, Copper-Wall Knee, Armor-Forged Abdomen, Gold-and-Stone-Piercing Finger, Steel-Saber Throat Lock, Golden Spear Standing Tall, Steel Sinews and Iron Bones, Indestructible Vajra Body... The blinding radiance instantly filled his pupils.

Pop!

With a soft sound, as if a red-hot steel knife were slicing through a block of tofu, a mangled, headless corpse was all that remained standing in place.

'We weren't even on the same level.' Wang Ping casually flicked his wrist.

'With the Thirteen Grand Protectors Hard Qigong at consummation, backed by fourteen Arts of War and three distinct cultivation traits, killing him was just way too easy.'

In the Immortal Gate World, a wayside nobody like him could only be considered to have just set foot on the path of cultivation. He wouldn't even qualify for the outer sect, much less make anything of himself. But here, back in the Great Shun Imperial Court, he could effortlessly obliterate a Titled Martial Master ranked a mere three hundred and sixtieth on the Armament Manual. What an astronomical disparity!

Wang Ping marveled:

"Sure enough... stomping the weak really is more fun!"

Right at that moment, however, Wang Ping's vision abruptly went black. His spiritual sense flared involuntarily as the distinct sensation of being watched washed over him.

"This is...?"

In that instant, his perspective seemed to stretch infinitely far away. Cast toward the very edge of the horizon, he laid eyes upon an unimaginably majestic and magnificent city nestled amidst towering mountains.

His vision soared past endless streets, pavilions, and terraces.

Finally, his sight came to rest atop a sky-piercing dais. There, he saw a scroll suspended in the air, covered with hundreds of written names.

One of those names was Xu Bingzheng. Yet right now, the ink was steadily fading. As the radiance upon the scroll flickered consecutively, Xu Bingzheng's name was completely erased, vanishing into nothingness. In its place, a brand-new name leapt onto the scroll with an unbelievable flair.

Rank Thirty-Seven, Wang Ping.

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