87: Chapter 87 Kill them all!

Xiao Yan's back disappeared into the spatial rift outside the main gate, and the golden rift slowly closed, swallowing him along with the last string of blood droplets dripping from his severed arm.

The various experts who had followed him to the square looked at one another; it was unclear who moved first, but immediately after, dozens of figures shot toward the exit simultaneously.

"Kill them all."

Hun Feng's voice was not loud, yet it clearly echoed throughout the entire square.

Soul Yuan Tian's withered fingers traced lightly through the void, and the phantom image of the Gate of Dead Silence descended from the sky, completely sealing off the main exit.

Elder Hun Tu and Hun Sha flanked from the left and right, while Hun Jing led dozens of Hall of Souls Heavenly Venerables in a dive from the air.

Yao Yao whipped out her bone whip, and the seventy-two skulls simultaneously lit up with a ghostly green radiance, her peach-blossom eyes roiling with long-suppressed, bloodthirsty excitement—she had been itching for a fight ever since Xiao Yan appeared, and waiting until now was her limit.

The moment Hun Feng finished speaking, her figure vanished from its spot, reappearing in the next second before several Pill Tower elders. Her bone whip swept across, and a soul-piercing shriek, like an invisible awl, stabbed viciously into their consciousness.

This was a one-sided slaughter.

Thousands of Dou Zun were like paper lanterns before the elite of the Hun Clan. The Alchemists of the Pill Tower unleashed various protective medicinal pills and soul defense barriers, but under the suppression of the Gate of Dead Silence, they could not even protect themselves.

Several Supreme Elders from the Burning Flame Valley joined forces to set up a fire array in an attempt to break out, but were shattered by a single palm strike from Elder Hun Tu, the backlash of the fire array burning them into ashes.

The sect leaders and rogue cultivators of the small and medium-sized factions were even more vulnerable; the Hall of Souls Heavenly Venerables slaughtered them in swathes like harvesting wheat.

Yao Yao wove through the crowd, her bone whip precisely snapping the throats of experts above the Dou Sheng level with every swing, absorbing their lingering soul origins into the whip.

The radiance of the seventy-two skulls grew brighter and brighter, shifting from ghostly green to an almost tangible dark green. As countless soul origins poured in continuously, the blood-attribute Dou Qi of the Hun Clan within her body surged and rampaged like boiling lava, breaking through the bottleneck that had trapped her at the mid-seven-star level—reaching the late seven-star level.

The disciples of the Cao Family and the Flower Sect huddled in the corner of the square, watching in despair as their allies fell one after another.

Cao Ying was pinned to a chair beside the viewing stand by Yao Yao and could not move; she could only watch helplessly as several Cao Family elders were struck down one palm after another by the Hall of Souls Heavenly Venerables, her teeth biting into her lower lip, her nails digging into her palms until blood welled up.

Yun Yun had her hands pinned behind her back by Medusa, watching as the Flower Sect disciples were subdued one by one by the Hun Clan guards, her clear eyes filled with helplessness and guilt.

Just as both sects were on the verge of total annihilation, Medusa suddenly spoke up.

She handed Yun Yun over to the Hun Clan guard beside her and walked to Hun Feng's side. Her voice was not loud, yet everyone nearby heard it clearly: "Leave a portion of the Flower Sect and the Cao Family. Since Yun Yun and Cao Ying are remaining, give them some face."

Hun Feng glanced at her, then glanced at the two women on the viewing stand, and nodded slightly.

Yao Yao had been killing with gusto, and upon hearing Medusa's words, she somewhat reluctantly retracted her bone whip, residual killing intent still lingering in her peach-blossom eyes.

She walked up to Cao Ying and used the bone whip to gently lift her chin, her tone carrying a hint of teasing: "Count yourselves lucky. Stay here from now on, serve my husband well, and perhaps you might even manage to become a concubine."

Cao Ying bit her lower lip tightly without speaking, but the humiliation and unwillingness surging in her eyes only made Yao Yao laugh even more happily.

In the end, half of the Flower Sect's disciples were let go, and a few young members of the Cao Family were kept, while everyone else was wiped out.

When Hun Qian led the guards to clear the battlefield, the square was already piled with charred corpses and broken weapons; thousands of Dou Zun and dozens of Dou Sheng had been wiped out, with not a single one escaping.

Yao Yao stood in the center of the square, the blood-attribute Dou Qi around her body surging like a tangible substance, and the dark green light from the seventy-two skulls cast flickering shadows across her face.

She lowered her head to look at the ghostly green flames dancing in her palm, a satisfied smile appearing at the corner of her lips; late seven-star level—she was one step closer to the threshold of the eight-star level.

Yun Yun and Cao Ying were taken away by the Hun Clan guards and locked into two adjacent side rooms in the wing of the East Courtyard.

Yun Yun remained silent the entire way, and only when the door was closed did she whisper a single sentence: "Tell the people from the Flower Sect who are returning to my sect… that I am still alive."

After being locked in the side room, Cao Ying looked around—the room was not large, the furnishings were simple, the bed was clean, and a plate of freshly delivered snacks sat on the table.

She sat down and rubbed her wrist, which had been twisted painfully by Yao Yao, a self-deprecating smile forming at the corner of her lips.

She had originally thought she was here to help Xiao Yan snatch back his fiancée, but as it turned out, she had been taken prisoner without even touching the hem of Hun Feng's robe.

She recalled the look Hun Feng had given her on the square; that undisguised greed made her feel both angry and palpitating with fear.

Hun Qian personally arranged for two female Hun Clan guards to stand watch outside the door.

As he left, he turned back to glance at the tightly closed doors of the two side rooms and shook his head.

Every time the Young Master held a wedding, there would be a few more captives; his job as a steward was truly becoming harder and harder to do.

The guests took their seats again, and the banquet continued.

The glazed lamps lit up again, and the eight-colored flames burned quietly within the wicks, as if the bloody slaughter just now had been nothing more than a brief interlude.

Hun Feng raised his wine cup and gestured toward the guests in the hall, his voice clear and composed: "My apologies, I had some private matters to attend to just now, which delayed everyone. Today is the joyous wedding day of myself, Xun'er, and Xiao Yi Xian; the wine has not yet been finished, so no one is allowed to leave."

The hall erupted in laughter, and the atmosphere became even more lively than before.

Gu Xun'er had already changed out of the blood-stained wedding gown and was wearing a clean, pale gold ceremonial dress, sitting quietly by his side.

Her eyelashes were still trembling slightly, but her face had returned to its usual composed demeanor.

Xiao Yi Xian remained seated beside her, not saying a single word from beginning to end, only turning her head slightly to glance at Hun Feng when he raised his wine cup, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

Gu Yuan sat in the seat of honor, watching his daughter, and remained silent for a long time, eventually just raising his wine cup and gesturing toward Hun Feng from afar.

He did not speak, but Hun Feng understood the meaning in his eyes—take good care of her.

Hun Feng bowed slightly to Gu Yuan in respect, then took Gu Xun'er's hand and walked to the center of the main hall.

The eight-colored Heavenly Flame burned silently in his palm, illuminating their clasped hands warmly and brightly.

Gu Xun'er raised her eyes to look at him, her eyes as clear as an ancient well, reflecting the eight-colored firelight.

She whispered a thank you, and Hun Feng did not ask what she was thanking him for; he simply lowered his head and planted a kiss on her brow.

Of course he knew what she was thanking him for—thanking him for not exposing the intention behind that sword strike, thanking him for fulfilling her determination to protect Xiao Yan in her own way, and also thanking him for giving her enough dignity during a wedding where everyone assumed she would feel guilty.