277: Chapter 277 Sweeping Away the Elders

Young geniuses lay scattered across the arena, their groans rising and falling in succession. Thousands of disciples of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan in the stands were stunned, unable to recover from the one-sided crushing defeat they had just witnessed. On the elders' dais, several presiding elders wore ashen faces. One of them stood up abruptly, unleashing the aura of a peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme without restraint, directly blasting several lower-cultivation disciples behind him into the air.

"Audacious!" the elder roared, his beard and hair bristling. He shattered the stone table before him with a single palm strike, and amidst the flying wood splinters, he strode into the arena. "A mere sinner's son, daring to run wild in the ancestral grounds of my Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan!"

Mu Chen stood leaning on his sword, the golden light of the heavenly emperor sword casting sharp shadows across his young face. He recognized this elder—Futu Lie, a direct confidant of Budu Xuan. It was this very man who had personally escorted his mother to the Forbidden Hall all those years ago. His fingers tightened slightly on the hilt, his knuckles turning pale.

"I am not here to run wild," Mu Chen's voice was calm to the point of indifference. "I am here to take my mother home. Those who block me are my enemies."

"Arrogant!" Futu Lie laughed in extreme rage. The black stone ground beneath his feet shattered with a boom as his peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme spiritual energy transformed into a crimson ribbon that shot into the sky. The entire floating island trembled violently under the force of his unleashed aura.

The protective spiritual array at the edge of the arena let out a shrill screech, unable to bear the burden, and cracks spread like spiderwebs in all directions. Having been in charge of law enforcement for the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan for thousands of years, never had anyone dared to be so insolent in the ancestral grounds. This was no longer a sparring match; it was a provocation, a declaration of war. With a grab of his right hand, a completely crimson battle axe fell from the void into his palm, its blade burning with raging flames. This was a life-bound holy artifact that Futu Lie had tempered with his own essence blood for thousands of years, having once split the deep abyss of half the Chaotic Demon Sea with a single swing.

At the same time, four more figures slowly stood up from the elders' dais. Each possessed cultivation at the late stage of Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme or higher, and each had participated in the council that imprisoned Qing Yanjing all those years ago. Five auras of Heavenly Supreme level descended like five great mountains, crushing the black stone ground in the center of the arena into a dense web of cracks. The young disciples in the stands who had been cheering for the geniuses of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan now found it difficult even to breathe—to them, the aura of a Heavenly Supreme level was a legend read only in textbooks. Now, with five such auras descending simultaneously, those with lower cultivation were already collapsing to the ground, their faces as pale as paper.

"Form the array," Futu Lie said coldly.

The five figures moved simultaneously, encircling Mu Chen in a pentagonal formation. Five distinct spiritual energies erupted from five directions—the blood-red one was Futu Lie's Heaven-Burning Axe energy, the snake-like blue-black one was the Second Elder's Heaven-Binding Chain, the silvery-white one was the Third Elder's Soul-Piercing Spike, the dark purple poisonous one was the Fourth Elder's Bone-Eroding Curse Seal, and the dark green rotting one was the Fifth Elder's Myriad Poison Vine Net. The killing array set up by five Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns was enough to trap an Immortal Grade Heavenly Supreme. They clearly did not intend to give Mu Chen any chance, going all out from the very first move.

Mu Chen remained leaning on his sword with one hand, unmoving.

The five attacks landed simultaneously, and a blinding ball of light exploded in the center of the arena. At the edge of the light sphere, the black stone ground was peeled away layer by layer, and shattered stone slabs were swept hundreds of feet into the air by the blast wave. The protective spiritual array finally shattered completely, and fragments of spiritual patterns scattered across the sky like rain. The stands were in chaos as disciples scrambled to stand and retreat; some were knocked over by the blast wave, while others screamed and sprinted toward the exit. However, when the light slowly dissipated, everyone's pupils constricted—the spot where Mu Chen stood was completely unscathed.

Within a three-foot radius around him, the black stone ground did not even have a single crack. The golden sword light acted like a transparent shield, protecting him from head to toe. The five Heavenly Supreme-level attacks crashed against that shield, only to shatter like waves hitting a reef.

The heavenly emperor sword—a Saint-Rank peerless holy artifact, the life-bound sword of the Heavenly Emperor. This sword had once accompanied the Heavenly Emperor in slaying the Nine Corpse Heavenly Demon Emperor, and after being sealed for over forty thousand years, it had awakened once more in Mu Chen's hands. How could its sharpness be broken by mere Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereigns?

"Is that all?" Mu Chen raised his eyes.

He drew his sword. The moment the heavenly emperor sword left its sheath, a golden beam of sword light shot into the sky like a dragon, tearing a rift thousands of feet long through the clouds above the arena. Sunlight poured down through the gaps in the clouds, intertwining with the golden sword light and bathing the entire floating island in a burning golden radiance. Mu Chen flashed, his perception, with the Law of Space reaching a minor success, deconstructing all the movements of the five. His first sword strike slashed at the Heaven-Binding Chain; the moment the golden sword radiance collided with the blue-black chain, it shattered inch by inch, and the Second Elder was sent flying backward, his hand web split, crashing into the stone pillars at the edge of the arena; the second strike diagonally deflected the Soul-Piercing Spike, the silvery-white tip recoiling while wrapped in sword qi, and although the Third Elder hurriedly dodged, he was still cut on the shoulder by his own weapon; the third strike swept across Futu Lie, and the collision between sword and axe erupted with a deafening boom. The black stone ground beneath Futu Lie's feet exploded into a crack dozens of feet deep, and he was struck back a hundred feet by the single blow, leaving deep footprints with every step on the black stone ground. Golden blood from his split hand web dripped down the axe handle, hissing into white steam upon the shattered black stone. When he steadied himself and looked down, there was already a hair-thin nick on the axe blade—his life-bound holy artifact had been damaged by a single strike from the heavenly emperor sword.

The Fifth Elder's Myriad Poison Vine Net rose quietly from beneath Mu Chen's feet, the dark green vines coiling upward like living creatures, attempting to trap him in place. Mu Chen didn't even glance at it; he casually flipped his left hand, and a pale golden phantom of the Primordial Celestial Body appeared in his palm. The phantom appeared for only an instant—it raised its hand and gave a light tap, and the vine net disintegrated into dust like paper.

Four figures were sent flying backward simultaneously, crashing heavily into the edge of the arena and shattering the reinforced black stone railings. The only one still standing, the Fourth Elder, was deathly pale; before he could even activate the Bone-Eroding Curse Seal in his hand, Mu Chen's sword tip was already pressed against his throat.

"I will not kill you," Mu Chen said. "Pass a message to Budu Xuan for me—my mother has been imprisoned for over a decade, and today I have come to take her back. The Council of Elders cannot stop me, the spiritual arrays cannot stop me, and the tens of thousands of years of rules of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan cannot stop me either. If he still has a shred of responsibility as the Great Elder, he should come out and see me himself."

The Fourth Elder's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he could not utter a single word. Mu Chen withdrew his sword tip and turned to continue walking toward the Council of Elders, not pausing for even a moment.

In the VIP area at the very top of the stands, Saint Son Xuan Luo remained seated in his original position. From the moment Mu Chen stepped into the martial arts arena until now, he had not spoken a word, nor had he made a single move. The personal attendant beside him was so nervous that his palms were sweating, and he whispered, "Saint Son, should we do something?" Saint Son Xuan Luo picked up his tea cup, took a sip, and said, "No need."

He had already seen it—this battle had no suspense from the very beginning. The five, including Futu Lie, could not stop Mu Chen even by joining forces because Mu Chen hadn't used his full strength at all. He had witnessed the power of the heavenly emperor sword outside the Ancient Heavenly Palace long before; at that time, Mu Chen was only an Earth Supreme, but now, a peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme paired with this sword meant that no more than three people in the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan could suppress him. Among those three, one was Budu Xuan himself, one was in seclusion, and the other was imprisoned in the Forbidden Hall.

Budu Xuan had not yet appeared, which meant he was also waiting—waiting to see how many people Mu Chen could overturn, and waiting for all of Mu Chen's trump cards to be revealed. Even Saint Son Xuan Luo was somewhat curious about this young man's trump cards.

On the east side of the arena, the stands of the Qing Branch. Chief Elder Qing Yanshan had been sitting in the most inconspicuous corner from the very beginning. When Mu Chen slapped Futu Qingyang over with a single palm, his fingers holding the tea cup trembled slightly. When Mu Chen drew his sword and swept through the five elders, he had already put down his tea cup and was holding his breath. When Mu Chen walked to the center of the arena and said the words, "My mother has been imprisoned for over a decade," he suddenly felt his eyes stinging.

He had lived for tens of thousands of years and seen countless geniuses, but none had dared to charge through the ancestral grounds like this. But Mu Chen was not just charging blindly—he was crushing his way forward, step by step, steadily and surely. Every battle was won cleanly and decisively, and every word was spoken with weight. This young man was not here to run wild; he was here to collect a debt.

He took a deep breath and slowly stood up. "Disciples of the Qing Branch, heed my order." His voice was old but firm, spreading throughout the entire Qing Branch stand. "The son of the Goddess has returned to the clan; all members of my Qing Branch—do not block him. If you wish to fight, then stand behind him with me and protect him as he walks to the Forbidden Hall." He paused, then struck the black jade staff in his hand, which symbolized his status as the Chief Elder of the Qing Branch, heavily against the ground. "We failed to protect the Goddess back then; if we cannot even protect her son today, what face does the Qing Branch have to remain in the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan?"

There was a moment of silence in the Qing Branch stands. Then, several young disciples stood up first, followed by the older generation of elders who also slowly rose, one after another. Within moments, dozens of people silently walked down from the stands, following behind Chief Elder Qing Yanshan as they stepped into the arena. Most of them did not have high cultivation, some were only in the Sovereign Realm, and facing the elite members of the other branches who were eyeing them covetously from all around the arena, their steps were trembling, but not a single one turned back.

The elders of the other branches looked at each other; some showed hesitation, while others lowered their heads in silence. No one dared to step out to block them—first, because Mu Chen's strength had already exceeded the scope of what they could handle, and second, because Chief Elder Qing Yanshan's words, "the son of the Goddess has returned to the clan," could not be faulted according to the clan rules. Qing Yanjing had "voluntarily" returned to the clan to be imprisoned, not expelled from the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. According to clan rules, her son indeed possessed the bloodline status of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. Over the years, Budu Xuan had used the label "sinner's son" to nail Mu Chen to the pillar of shame, but no one had ever dared to formally remove Mu Chen's name from the clan genealogy. Why? Because before Qing Yanjing was imprisoned, she had personally carved Mu Chen's name onto the Ancestral Tower.

Chief Elder Qing Yanshan walked up to Mu Chen and looked at him deeply. This child looked like his mother; in his brows and eyes, there was the shadow of Qing Yanjing in her youth—that was the way Qing Yanjing had been before she was imprisoned: proud, sharp, and never bowing her head. Back then, the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan was Qing Yanjing's Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, the Qing Branch's Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. Now, the young man standing before him was calmer and steadier than Qing Yanjing had been back then, more like a peerless sword that had been repeatedly tempered and finally restrained its edge.

"Before your mother was imprisoned, she carved your name on the Ancestral Tower. According to clan rules, you have always been a disciple of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan," he said, his voice not loud, but every word clearly reaching Mu Chen's ears. "We failed to stop your mother back then, and the entire Qing Branch has felt ashamed ever since. Today, you want to see your mother—I will walk this path with you."

Mu Chen looked at the old man with half-white hair and beard before him, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. He said "thank you," then cupped his fists and performed a junior's salute; it was not mere politeness, but a genuine bow of his waist. Chief Elder Qing Yanshan reached out to support his arm and helped him up, then turned and walked toward the Council of Elders. Behind him, dozens of Qing Branch disciples followed silently; their cultivation might not be much to look at, but the sound of their footsteps was uniform and firm, stepping on the shattered black stone ground, each step declaring: The Qing Branch is still here. The Qing Branch disciples have not all perished. The blood of the Qing Branch will flow back into the ancestral grounds of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan today.

On the top floor of the Ancestral Tower, in a secret observation chamber. Budu Xuan stood with his hands behind his back in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, his hair and beard silver, his face ashen. He had watched everything that happened in the arena from beginning to end—when Mu Chen slapped Futu Qingyang over with a palm, his fingers had dug five indentations into the window frame; when Mu Chen drew his sword and swept through the five elders, the tea cup beside him had been silently crushed; and when Chief Elder Qing Yanshan led the Qing Branch members to openly defect right under his nose, he finally let out a cold laugh. That laugh was very soft, echoing in the empty secret chamber, carrying a hint of sinister malice, a hint of disdain, and a trace of unease that even he himself did not want to admit.

"A bunch of trash." He turned around, and the three core elders standing behind him bowed their heads simultaneously, not daring to meet his gaze. "You cannot even stop a junior who has just broken through to the peak of Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme; what use is the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan in raising you?"

"Great Elder, what that child holds is the heavenly emperor sword. It is a Saint-Rank peerless holy artifact; even five Heavenly Sovereigns joining forces could not break through his sword light—" one of the elders tried to explain.

"Whether it is the heavenly emperor sword or the Primordial Celestial Body, they are merely relics he picked up from the Ancient Heavenly Palace. Inherited items are, after all, not one's own cultivation; even if a peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Sovereign holds a Saint-Rank holy artifact, they absolutely cannot block a true Saint-Rank." Budu Xuan interrupted him, his tone carrying a condescending indifference. "Let him make a scene. The bigger the scene, the better. I want to see what other trump cards he has that he hasn't revealed yet. When he walks to the entrance of the Forbidden Hall, I will personally step out—and let him know what a true powerhouse is."

The three elders bowed and agreed, none daring to say another word.

Budu Xuan turned back to look out the window. Mu Chen, leading the Qing Branch members, had already walked out of the martial arts arena and was steadily advancing along the white jade avenue leading to the Forbidden Hall. His gaze paused for a moment on the heavenly emperor sword in Mu Chen's hand, then shifted to the empty sky behind Mu Chen, a trace of faint vigilance flashing in his eyes. He did not fear Mu Chen—no matter how strong a peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Supreme was, it was not enough in the face of his mid-stage Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign cultivation. But he suddenly remembered something that Saint Son Xuan Luo had reported to him privately before: outside the Ancient Heavenly Palace, Hun Feng had personally killed Saint Son Mohe You. That Hun Feng was Mu Chen's master.

When Saint Son Xuan Luo reminded him of this, he hadn't taken it to heart—the affairs of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan were not for an outsider to interfere with. But now, as he watched Mu Chen's calm pace and his posture of entering the array alone, he suddenly felt a bit uncertain. This young man had not come to walk into a trap; there must be someone behind him. No matter who it was, anyone who dared to step into the ancestral grounds of the Futu Realm had to play by the rules of the Futu Realm. Budu Xuan slowly closed his withered fingers, his knuckles making a cracking sound.

The white jade avenue leading to the Forbidden Hall was tens of thousands of feet long, and on both sides, every few steps, stood a stone statue of a Saint-Rank powerhouse from the past generations of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. Each statue held a stone weapon in its hand, the blades glinting with a cold, biting light under the sun. This path was the holy road used by the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan to sacrifice to their ancestors, one that ordinary clansmen could never set foot on in their entire lives, but today, it had become the final barrier for Mu Chen as he walked toward his mother.

At the end of the avenue, the outline of the Forbidden Hall was already vaguely visible. Three overlapping Saint-Rank spiritual arrays wrapped the lonely stone hall layer by layer, and as the spiritual patterns flowed, they emitted a suffocating aura. Mu Chen gripped the heavenly emperor sword tightly and took a deep breath, his pace not slowing in the slightest. Behind him, Chief Elder Qing Yanshan followed silently with the Qing Branch members, their footsteps echoing uniformly and firmly on the white jade slabs. This path had been walked for over a decade; for these last few steps, no one could stop him again.