Chapter 147 Wang Chongyuan draws his sword, Lin Chen confronts him head-on.

Wang Chongyuan's fingers rested on the sword hilt for three breaths.

Footsteps surged from all directions outside the main hall, and the sound of iron armor clashing filled the front courtyard and corridors of the residence.

Lin Chen stood on the cloud-patterned square brick in the center of the hall, his hand resting on the hilt of his black abyss blade, his gaze pinned to the five fingers Wang Chongyuan used to grip his sword hilt.

Those five fingers did not loosen.

Wang Chongyuan sat back down.

The grand armchair behind him had shifted half a foot, its leg resting on the shards of a broken teacup, wobbling as it bore his weight.

"Lin Chen."

His voice came from the very bottom of his chest, each word carrying a gritty, sandpaper-like texture as it ground through his throat.

"Do you think that just because you have finished searching, the Wang Family will fall?"

Lin Chen's thumb slid across the guard of his black abyss blade, his fingertip tracing the ridge, but he did not reply.

Wang Chongyuan lowered his head, watching the bulging veins on the back of the hand resting on his sword hilt.

"I have sat in this chair for thirty-two years."

His voice was half-hoarse, yet his speaking pace had slowed down compared to before.

"Nanyang Prefecture has seen four Governors and six officials of the Provincial Administration Commission come and go; the plaque of the Patrol Division has been taken down and hung up, hung up and taken down, time and again."

He raised his head, his gaze shifting from Lin Chen's face to the black abyss blade at his waist.

"Guess how many of those people ever wanted to touch the Wang Family?"

Lin Chen spoke, his voice landing on the floor of the main hall, which was composed of broken bricks and ruined wood.

"I will not guess."

He took the search warrant from his left sleeve and extended it half an inch forward.

"I search."

Wang Chongyuan's pupils constricted.

His fingers tightened on the sword hilt, the ridges of the coiled-thread pattern embedding into his fingertips, leaving two white marks.

Zhou Tie's voice came from the direction of the back courtyard; he kept his volume controlled, yet every word struck the brick floor of the corridor.

"The hidden compartments in the ancestral hall have been completely cleared out, and the evidence has been sealed!"

He Jian's voice cut in immediately after from the direction of the inner courtyard storehouse.

"Escort Officer Lu Qingshan has delivered eleven documents, each numbered and accounted for!"

The vein beside Wang Chongyuan's temple throbbed three times.

He stood up from the chair.

This time, he rose very slowly.

The soles of his boots ground against the broken bricks, and the pitch-black longsword at his waist swayed twice with his movement, the end of the scabbard knocking against the chair leg with a short, sharp metallic clink.

The air in the main hall changed quality the instant he stood up.

The True Qi of the Late stage of Condensing Dan surged from his body—not the overwhelming outward release from before, but all of it retracted, pressed into the deepest parts of his body, then surged upward from his Dantian, pouring into his right arm, into his palm, and into the hand gripping the sword hilt.

A dark red luster began to seep onto the surface of the scabbard.

That light spread from the mouth of the scabbard to the end, winding around the black-lacquered wood, giving off a color like blood-rust in the remaining sunlight of the main hall.

Lin Chen's eyes darkened slightly.

Blood-Devouring Essence Condensation Technique.

The sword blade was connected to the cultivator's blood energy; that dark red was not True Qi, but originated from blood energy.

Wang Chongyuan drew his sword.

The sound of the sword leaving the scabbard was not a metallic friction, but dull and short; the section of the black blade sliding out from the scabbard had blood-like patterns flowing across it, flickering in and out of existence in the sunlight.

The sword tip moved horizontally, pointing at a spot three inches from Lin Chen's chest, less than a zhang away.

"The one hundred and twenty-year-old Wang Family."

Wang Chongyuan's voice squeezed through his teeth, each word carrying the heat of steaming blood energy.

"Will not be trampled underfoot by a patrol officer who was still wandering in the Tongmai Realm three months ago."

Lin Chen's fingers hooked onto the hilt of his black abyss blade, his thumb pressed against the side of the guard, his palm firmly gripping it.

The black abyss blade was drawn.

A dark golden radiance spread from the blade, suppressing the remaining light in the main hall; the broken bricks on the ground shot to both sides the moment the True Qi expanded.

Two streams of True Qi collided in the center of the main hall.

Dark gold and blood red entangled for half a breath; the floor tiles began to crack from the point of impact, the cracks spreading from the cloud-patterned square brick in the center of the hall in all directions, gravel bouncing up from the gaps and smashing into the collapsed chair backs on either side.

He Jian rushed out from the inner courtyard, grabbed Liu Buyu by the collar, dragged him behind a corridor pillar, and crouched down with their backs against the pillar.

The document box in Liu Buyu's arms nearly fell out; he clutched the surface of the box with both hands, his back pressed against the pillar, his breath caught in his throat.

"Late stage of Condensing Dan!"

He Jian's narrow short blade popped halfway out of its sheath, his fingers gripping the hilt, his knuckles tense.

Zhou Tie rushed over from the direction of the back courtyard ancestral hall, carrying his iron spear; when he reached the door of the main hall and saw the scene of the two streams of True Qi rampaging and killing each other inside, his feet were nailed to the threshold.

He gripped the spear shaft tightly, his palms full of sweat.

He could not intervene in this battle.

Wang Chongyuan attacked with his sword.

The first strike.

A majestic and upright path; all the True Qi of the Late stage of Condensing Dan poured into the sword tip, and a blood-colored sword gleam hacked down from above, carrying all the arrogance accumulated from thirty-two years of sitting in that grand armchair, combined with the madness of being pushed into a corner.

The force of this sword strike was thirty percent heavier than the scimitar of Attendant Zhao Wuya after he had taken the pill that night.

The blood-colored sword gleam drew a three-foot-long band of light in mid-air, the sword wind pressing onto Lin Chen's head before the blade itself, shattering another layer of the broken bricks beneath his feet.

Lin Chen did not retreat.

He raised his black abyss blade above his head, meeting it head-on with the seventh form of the Shadowless Thunder Blade, Space-Rending.

The dark golden saber gleam and the blood-colored sword gleam collided in the center of the main hall.

A wave of energy expanded from the point of impact in all directions; the grand armchair was blown a zhang away, the tabletop of the long table snapped in the middle, and the two wooden boards rolled and smashed into the corner.

The lacquer on the hall pillars peeled off in layers, revealing the gray wood beneath.

Lin Chen was pushed back three steps, his boot soles plowing two tracks in the broken bricks, the sound of his shoes rubbing against the bricks sharp and ear-piercing amidst the residual energy wave.

But he stood his ground.

A Middle Stage of Condensing Dan cultivator took a full-force sword strike from a Late stage of Condensing Dan cultivator, retreated three steps, and stood firm.

In the split second that Wang Chongyuan retracted his sword, his entire body paused for a beat.

He stared at the ends of the two furrows beneath Lin Chen's feet, staring at the pair of boots nailed to the broken bricks, completely motionless.

"Three days ago, you were still at the Early stage of Condensing Dan."

His voice cracked.

Lin Chen did not reply; he lowered his black abyss blade from above his head, holding it horizontally three inches in front of him, the dark golden radiance flowing along the surface of the blade.

Wang Chongyuan's second sword strike came.

The angle was tricky; the sword blade cut in from the right, the tip tracing an arc as it twisted toward Lin Chen's waist, the True Qi condensing into a half-foot-long blood-colored extension in front of the blade edge, cutting a dark red line through the air.

Lin Chen dodged the main force by turning his body, the blade edge brushing against the fabric at his waist, splitting the cloth, but the skin and flesh beneath were unharmed.

His counterattack arrived along with the arc of his dodge.

The fourth form of the Jueying Seven-Kill Blade.

The saber gleam sliced past the outer side of Wang Chongyuan's sword-wielding arm.

Wang Chongyuan retracted his arm, pulling his sword back to dodge the blade.

But the Saber Qi swept across his sleeve, tearing a three-inch-long gash from his elbow to his wrist, the fabric curling outward, revealing the fine hairs and veins on his right arm.

The sound of Wang Chongyuan's teeth clenching was clearly audible in the main hall.

The third strike. The fourth strike. The fifth strike.

The aftermath of every move stirred up a new round of destruction in the main hall.

The first hall pillar broke during the third strike, and half of the purlin collapsed from above, knocked askew by the energy wave, tilting and leaning against another pillar.

When the fifth strike ended, the main door frame was crooked, and half of the door panel was shaken off its hinges, flipping as it flew into the front courtyard and slammed onto the blue-brick floor, splattering wood chips everywhere.

The sixth strike. The seventh strike.

By the time the seventh strike ended, the main hall was in ruins.

Two of the four hall pillars were broken, the roof rafters hung down from the break points, and broken tiles kept falling, smashing into the pile of broken bricks at their feet.

The cloud-patterned square brick beneath Lin Chen's feet had shattered into six pieces, his boot soles sinking half an inch into the cracks.

His breathing was twenty percent heavier than when the battle began, and his Golden Core in his chest emitted a faint humming sound due to the rapid consumption of True Qi, but the dark golden radiance on the blade did not dim.

Wang Chongyuan's wheezing came from behind the blade, twice as heavy as Lin Chen's.

The foundation of the Late stage of Condensing Dan allowed him to press Lin Chen with every strike, but after seven strikes, Lin Chen had retreated less than two zhang in total, and there was not a single bleeding wound on him.

"Your sword."

Lin Chen's voice came from behind that layer of dark golden radiance on the blade; it was not loud, but it was heard clearly in the intervals between the falling broken tiles.

"Is a bit stronger than your one hundred and twenty years of talk."

The last shred of reason in Wang Chongyuan's eyes was burned through by these words.

The eighth strike.

The Blood-Devouring Essence Condensation Technique was pushed to the limit.

All the blood-like patterns on the sword blade lit up, spreading from the hilt to the tip, and the entire black sword was enveloped in a thick, dark red layer, the heat it radiated baking the air within three feet until it distorted and warped.

A blood-colored Sword Qi, so solid it could be touched by hand, shot out from the sword tip, aiming directly at Lin Chen's face.

This strike overspent thirty percent of his True Qi; the sword hilt slipped in his palm, and he clamped it tight with his five fingers.

Lin Chen stepped forward.

The six pieces of broken brick beneath his feet shattered into powder under the force of his boot soles.

His Golden Core operated at full power.

The seventh form of the Shadowless Thunder Blade, Space-Rending, full-power version.

The complete saber path previously deduced was released in this instant, the dark golden saber gleam rushing out from the tip of the black abyss blade, forming an arc-shaped screen of light, colliding head-on with that blood-colored Sword Qi.

The instant the two forces collided, the entire roof of the main hall was blown away.

Broken tiles, carried by the residual energy wave, were thrown into the sky, scattering into a shower of black rain in the sunlight, falling from a height of three zhang and smashing onto the ground of the front courtyard and corridors, resonating throughout the courtyard.

The blood-colored Sword Qi was split down the middle by the dark golden saber gleam, divided into two halves, sweeping past Lin Chen's side and hitting the rear courtyard wall, where a large section of wall bricks shattered, sending brick dust two feet into the air.

The Blade Intent did not stop.

After splitting the Sword Qi, the residual force of Space-Rending continued to cut forward along its original trajectory.

Wang Chongyuan blocked horizontally with his sword.

The saber and sword collided head-on.

A massive force transmitted from the blade edge to the sword body and then to his arm caused the web between Wang Chongyuan's thumb and index finger to burst open at that moment, fresh blood spraying from between his fingers, landing on his own lapels and on the broken bricks beneath his feet.

He was knocked back five steps.

His back slammed into the last unbroken hall pillar in the main hall.

The pillar snapped in the middle, the upper half falling to the side and smashing onto the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Wang Chongyuan knelt on one knee on the broken bricks.

The black sword in his hand was thrust into the ground, the hilt covered in his own blood, his fingers slipping twice from the hilt before he could grip it again.

He raised his head.

His chest heaved so violently that his lapels puffed up and down, and a wisp of blood trickled down from the corner of his lips, dripping onto the front of his black robe.

"Middle Stage of Condensing Dan."

His voice was half-broken, air leaking from his chest, carrying a fishy, sweet metallic taste.

"When did you..."

Lin Chen did not give him a chance to finish.

He held his black abyss blade horizontally in front of him, the tip pointing at Wang Chongyuan's throat from three feet away, the dark golden radiance spreading along the blade to the very tip, so steady that it did not even flicker when the sunlight shone upon it.

"Wang Chongyuan."

His voice carried upward in the roofless main hall, caught by the sky above, and fell into the ears of the City Defense Battalion soldiers surging in from all sides.

"Surrender, or do you want me to strike a second time?"

Three hundred City Defense Battalion soldiers surged into the Wang Family Main Residence from the front and side gates, long spears bristling like a forest, surrounding the main hall.

Spear tips pointed toward the wreckage in the center of the hall from all directions.

Commander Han Yong rode his date-red warhorse, looking in from the main gate archway; his gaze swept across the roofless main hall, over the broken bricks and broken pillars on the ground, over the half-kneeling Wang Chongyuan, and finally stopped on Lin Chen, who stood holding his blade.

His horse whip rested on the horse's neck, and his hand did not move.

Deep in his mind, the notification sound rang out amidst the sunlight and dust.

[Detected: Host has defeated the Late stage of Condensing Dan expert Wang Chongyuan head-on with Middle Stage of Condensing Dan cultivation, completing the main battle of clearing out the Wang Family's core forces.]

[Instant reward: 5,000 points.]

[Current accumulated usable points: 17,000 points.]

Wang Chongyuan's sword was pulled out from the floor tiles.

The sword tip tremblingly lifted half a foot, pointing toward Lin Chen, but the dark red luster on the sword blade had dimmed, leaving only the pitch-black metallic color gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

He wanted to stand up.

He used force twice with his knees on the broken bricks; the first time he failed to rise, and the second time, just as he had straightened his body halfway, Zhou Tie's iron spear and He Jian's narrow short blade simultaneously rested on his shoulders.

The spear shaft was horizontal on his right shoulder, the blade edge pressed against his left collar, two forces suppressing his attempt to struggle upward from both sides.

"Old Master Wang."

Zhou Tie's mouth turned down, the Killing Intent in his throat not yet fully dissipated, but his tone was thirty percent calmer than before.

"Enough."

Wang Chongyuan's fingers gripped and loosened on the sword hilt, loosened and gripped again, repeating this three times; the sword tip slowly dropped, scraping across the broken bricks on the ground, producing a harsh sound of metal rubbing against stone.

He knelt on that patch of broken bricks, his shoulders pressed by the spear shaft and short blade, his spine bent into an arc he had never displayed before.

Blood trickled down from the gash on his hand, gathering into a thin, dark red line in the gaps of the broken bricks.

"Lin Chen."

His voice came from beneath his bent spine, muffled and harsh.

Lin Chen did not sheathe his blade.

Wang Chongyuan raised his head, his face a mixture of blood and dust, those old eyes so murky in the sunlight that the color of his pupils could not be distinguished.

"Do you think that defeating me is the end?"

He squeezed out a breathy sound from his throat, his teeth clattering together, and the muscles on his chin twitched twice.

"The person behind Official Chen Zhili is ten times greater than me."

Lin Chen's blade tip paused three inches in front of his throat, the dark golden radiance illuminating that distance clearly.

His gaze landed on Wang Chongyuan's face, pausing for two breaths.

"Where is the complete list of the seventeen impeachments?"

The corners of Wang Chongyuan's mouth cracked open, not knowing if he was smiling or in pain.

Half a mouthful of blood seeped from that crack, trickling down his chin and dripping onto the broken bricks on his knees.

"The list is on the third level beneath the ancestral hall."

His voice grew lower and lower, and the speed at which his breath leaked from his chest grew faster and faster.

"The hidden compartments in the ancestral hall are only the first level; you are still missing two doors."

Zhou Tie's spear shaft added two parts of force to his shoulder, and he squeezed one word through his teeth.

"Speak."

Wang Chongyuan's gaze shifted from Lin Chen's face to the sky above that had lost its roof tiles, the sunlight shining directly into his pupils, illuminating the murkiness until it turned pale.

"The key to the second level is in my scabbard."

He tilted his head, pointing his chin toward the black sword on the ground that he had released.

"The key to the third level is not in the Wang Family."

Lin Chen's thumb rubbed a circle on the hilt.

"Where?"

The crack at the corner of Wang Chongyuan's mouth stretched two parts wider, blood seeping out from the gap and hanging on the stubble of his chin.

"Provincial Administration Commission, Official Chen Zhili's study."

There was silence in the ruins of the main hall for three breaths.

Sunlight shone directly down from above, illuminating the broken bricks, broken pillars, and the wreckage all over the ground, shining on the bloodstain where Wang Chongyuan was kneeling.

Lin Chen's fingers loosened from the hilt, and his black abyss blade slowly returned to its scabbard; the sound of the blade entering the scabbard was crisp and clean in the sunlight.

"Tie him up and take him away."

He turned around, his boot soles crushing a piece of wood chip that had fallen from a broken pillar, and took two steps toward the ancestral hall.

His footsteps stopped at the edge of the remaining door frame of the main hall.

He looked back at Wang Chongyuan.

The old man kneeling on the broken bricks was lifted up from both sides by Zhou Tie and He Jian; the shards of broken brick on his knees were embedded into his trousers, and blood flowed from the web of his hand down to his cuffs.

The man who had not left that grand armchair for thirty-two years was being dragged out by two young men in the Tongmai Realm.

The City Defense Battalion soldiers watching at the courtyard gate silently cleared a path.

Lin Chen withdrew his gaze from Wang Chongyuan and let it fall on the pitch-black doorway in the distance in the direction of the ancestral hall.

The third level.

The key is in the Provincial Administration Commission.

His fingers rested on the scabbard of his black abyss blade again, his fingertip tracing the cold ridge on the surface of the scabbard.

Official Chen Zhili, it is your turn.