120: Chapter 120 War War War

That beam of light was so fast that Yang Zhenghua did not even have time to draw his sword to intercept it, and so fast that even Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's Divine Sense failed to capture its trajectory. It silently pierced through a distance of several hundred zhang, entering from Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's back and piercing out through his chest.

Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's figure suddenly halted in mid-air. He lowered his head to glance at the bowl-sized transparent hole in his chest, his lips moving slightly as if wanting to say something, but only a mouthful of blood bubbles welled up from his throat.

Everything went black before his eyes as he plummeted toward the area below the flying boat. The last sound he heard in his ears was the simultaneous, explosive cries of grief from the Yan Family disciples.

"Family Head——" More than a dozen Qi Refining Late Stage Cultivators on the Yan Family flying boat exclaimed in simultaneous, startled cries, their voices as shrill and miserable as if they were mourning their parents.

Back then at the mountain gate of Lotus Pier, seeing that the Ning Family was powerful, Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong had fled before the battle; later, seeing that the Wang Family was powerful, he had secretly defected to Yang Zhenghua.

He had schemed his entire life, yet in the end, he still could not out-scheme a dying man.

Yang Zhenghua retreated three steps in succession, and the condescending composure on his Face had completely vanished.

His sword was still stuck in the pile of rubble more than ten zhang away, and blood from the web of his right hand flowed down between his fingers, dyeing the cuffs of his silver-patterned white robe crimson.

He glared at Wang Chongyang, his voice sharpening out of tune: "Mad! Mad! Killing the head of the Yan Family in front of the upper sect's emissary—Wang Chongyang, your Family is trying to rebel!"

Wang Chongyang's Face was the color of golden paper, which was the sign that his Lifespan was about to burn out.

His skin had already assumed an extremely faint golden-yellow, shimmering under the sunlight with a nearly transparent luster, like the last withered leaf hanging on a tree branch in autumn, ready to be blown off by the wind at any moment.

Yet the five-colored spiritual light around his body not only did not diminish, but instead burned more and more fiercely. The sounds of wind and thunder faintly exploded within the halo of light, and with every step he took, another crack appeared beneath his feet.

He no longer looked at the two Foundation Establishment elders behind Yang Zhenghua, nor did he look at Hu Shan, whose Face was pale as death beside the mountain path. He merely stared at Yang Zhenghua, walking toward him step by step.

Yang Zhenghua involuntarily retreated another step, the sharpness in his voice already carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling: "What are you trying to do? Could it be that you intend to kill us to silence us?"

Hu Shan stood at the edge of the mountain path, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white from a tight grip.

He looked at Wang Chongyang's increasingly faint golden Face, then at Yang Zhenghua's increasingly white Face, wailing inwardly in misery.

He had originally thought that today, upon stepping down as the magistrate of Wanshan County, he would do the fellow surnamed Yang a Face, drop by Lotus Pier to stabilize the situation, and then return to the sect for a promotion after cashing in the favor.

Who would have thought that Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong would falsely accuse him in public, Yang Zhenghua would be aggressively pressing, and Wang Chongyang would have such an unyielding character—neither side was someone he could afford to offend.

Yet now he had no choice but to step forward. If Yang Zhenghua died here today, let alone a promotion, not being demoted would be a blessing from his ancestors.

Hardening his scalp, he stepped forward, keeping his voice extremely low and slow, as if trying to persuade an enraged fierce tiger.

"Both of you, calm your anger. I have always known Senior Brother Chongyang's character; he is upright and never one to commit acts of insubordination. There must be a reason for this matter."

He paused, looking at Wang Chongyang, his eyes filled with earnestness.

"Senior Brother Chongyang, you must remain calm. I know you have suffered a grievance, but surely you do not wish to see the hundreds of years of the Family's foundation destroyed just like this? Let us sit down and talk things through properly; Senior Brother Yang is not an unreasonable person either—"

"Wang Chongyang! You old scoundrel! You deserve to die! For killing our Family head, the Yan Family will definitely reward you handsomely! The Yan Family will never rest until you and your Family are dead!"

Behind him, more than a dozen Yan Family Qi Refining Late Stage Cultivators simultaneously drew their Magical Artifacts, spiritual light exploding across the flying boat in a patch.

Some were transmitting messages, others were crying and wailing as they swore vengeance, their sorrow and indignation burning like a raging fire across the plain.

On the Wang Family's side, hundreds of disciples of the Shou generation took a step forward simultaneously at almost the exact same instant, without anyone giving an order.

The sounds of heavy swords being drawn from their scabbards, long sabers being unsheathed, and Magical Artifacts being summoned erupted at the exact same moment. Dozens of gazes nailed themselves onto the flying boat like blade tips, with Killing Intent soaring to the heavens.

Wang Shouren stood at the very front of the crowd, crimson-gold lightning silently condensing upon his fist tips.

Wang Yaowu propped his heavy sword against the ground and roared up to the skies: "Sons of the Wang Family——Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The shouts of hundreds of people converged into a torrent, crashing against the cliff walls of Wogui Mountain. The echo thundered, shaking pine needles down in a rustling shower and causing the expressions of the Yan Family disciples on the flying boat to change in unison.

They had never seen such a Wang Family—this fish-selling Family that was usually mild-mannered and amiable toward others was at this moment like a fierce tiger whose reverse scale had been touched, finally baring its fangs.

Wang Chongyang slowly turned around.

His gaze swept across those sorrowful and distorted Faces on the flying boat, then landed on Hu Shan's Face, which was written full of panic and helplessness. He did not look at the Yan Family disciples, but merely looked at Hu Shan, a trace of an extremely faint, faint smile rising at the corners of his mouth.

Within that smile lay desolation, mockery, and even more so, an absolute determination after having his reverse scale touched.

He had lived for nearly two hundred years and could endure anything—resources could be split less, territory could be yielded, Face could be discarded. Only one thing would not do. The Wang Family would not do.

"Hu Shan, you say you understand me, understand the Wang Family?"

Wang Chongyang suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse.

He did not turn back, merely stopping his steps with his gaze still nailed onto Yang Zhenghua's Face, "You understand me?"

Hu Shan was slightly stunned, subconsciously nodding.

Wang Chongyang smiled.

That smile was very faint and very light, yet it made Hu Shan's spine turn cold.

He shook his head, no longer looking at Hu Shan, and suddenly raised his right hand, making an empty grab behind him.

Among the pile of rubble beneath the flying boat, Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's corpse still maintained the posture of falling, with a bowl-sized transparent hole in its chest, the blood having long since drained dry.

Yet at the instant Wang Chongyang made that empty grab with his five fingers, an extremely faint, cyan phantom was forcefully yanked out from the center of the corpse's brow.

That was Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's Divine Soul—he had earlier feigned falling, but in reality, he had hidden his Divine Soul deep within the Sea of Consciousness of his corpse, sealing off all vitality with a tortoise-breathing secret technique, capable of even deceiving Divine Sense detection.

He had thought that once Wang Chongyang killed his Physical Body, he would let it go; he thought that a Foundation Establishment Cultivator's lingering soul could still survive through Possession.

As long as he held out until Wang Chongyang's lamp ran out of oil and his flame died, Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong could still make a comeback all the same.

Yet he had not expected that Wang Chongyang had no intention of leaving his complete corpse behind at all.

That cyan phantom emitted an exceptionally sharp shriek, struggling desperately as it tried to flee toward the direction of the flying boat.

Yet Wang Chongyang's five fingers simply contracted slightly, and that Divine Soul was as if hooked by an invisible fishhook along its spine, futilely twisting, rolling, and wailing miserably in mid-air, yet growing closer and closer to that emaciated hand.

Head of the Yan Family Yan Bosong's voice transformed from a shriek into bitter cursing, then from cursing into entreaty, until finally nothing was left except a series of broken, muddled pleas for mercy.

"My Wang Family has never suffered such utterly humiliating disgrace."

Wang Chongyang gripped that cyan phantom within his hand, his five fingers slowly tightening. His voice was not loud, yet it suppressed the mountain wind, suppressed the humming of the formation patterns, and suppressed everyone's heartbeat.

"My Wang Family has always befriended others. Whether it is the Yan Family, the Ning Family, or the likes of Loose Cultivators, who does not know that the Wang Family is kind to others? Today you have made it clear that you intend to put my Wang Family to death—"

He turned his head, his gaze sweeping across Yang Zhenghua's Face, then across Hu Shan's Face, and finally landing upon that shivering cyan phantom in his hand.

"What else is there to talk about?"

His five fingers abruptly clenched.