Volume Two: Travels in Qi Chapter 96: Entering the Palace Again

Staring at Qi Buyi, who was exuding the aura of the Void Returning Realm, Han Xuan was momentarily stunned. Though his strength had recently soared, boosting his confidence, he did not believe himself capable of contending with a cultivator of the Void Returning Realm. Helplessly, he looked to Zhang Heng and the elder for support.

“Come back,” Zhang Heng said calmly, his gaze fixed on Han Xuan.

At the words, Han Xuan immediately withdrew his spiritual power and flew to stand behind the elder. Zhang Heng would never stand by and watch Han Xuan, who had saved so many common folk, be humiliated.

“Senior, let’s finish this quickly,” Zhang Heng said in an indifferent tone. He then took a Clarity Pill from his spatial ring and handed it to Han Xuan to swallow.

Pills that boost power generally just squeeze out latent potential—borrowing from the future—so naturally, there were drawbacks. Once the effect wore off, the user would be left unusually frail. But if there was one thing Zhang Heng had in abundance, it was pills and resources. Exhausted? Out of spiritual energy? No matter—he could easily replenish it.

The elder at the Heavenly Origin Realm nodded at his words. In the next instant, he appeared before Qi Buyi. His right hand reached out, appearing slow and effortless, not a trace of spiritual energy stirring. Yet Qi Buyi, caught off guard, could not react at all—his throat was seized, and he was lifted bodily into the air.

Qi Buyi was dumbfounded. Everyone from the City Lord’s estate was equally stunned.

Qi Buyi’s aura had just soared to the Void Returning Realm; he’d been feeling on top of the world, eager to flaunt his newfound power and make an impression. Who could have foreseen that in the very next moment, he would be so thoroughly humiliated?

To so casually subdue a cultivator of the Void Returning Realm—could this elder be a high-level Void Returning master?

“S-Senior, please calm your anger. There must be some misunderstanding,” gasped Qi Buyi, now unable to breathe, his voice weak with entreaty.

But how could the elder at the Heavenly Origin Realm be so easily appeased? He casually struck Qi Buyi’s face with his left hand, leaving a glaringly red handprint—a shocking sight, a testament to the force behind the blow.

Zhang Heng knew that the old man had already shown restraint; otherwise, Qi Buyi’s head would have been smashed clean off.

With a kick, Qi Buyi was sent flying into a corner, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth, his aura feeble, the black energy that shrouded him dissipating.

The people of the City Lord’s estate watched as Qi Buyi was sent hurtling away; none dared to approach or even speak. Instead, they cowered on the ground, clutching their heads in terror.

Just how terrifying was this elder’s power, to so effortlessly swat away a Void Returning master?

“What now, boy?” the elder asked Zhang Heng, turning as if the whole affair were of no consequence. Slaying a Void Returning cultivator was nothing to him; his only concern now was for the infected townsfolk.

“No need to rush, Senior. They’ve arrived,” Zhang Heng said, gazing meaningfully at the sky outside.

As he spoke, a group of cultivators dressed in black, their bodies wreathed in dark energy, strode across the air toward them. In an instant, the sky seemed to darken, and the only color to be seen where they passed was black.

“Excellent, excellent,” Zhang Heng said with a chilling smile. In broad daylight, these demonic cultivators dared to show themselves so brazenly, as if the righteous cultivators did not exist at all.

Moments later, all the black-clad cultivators landed in the courtyard. The leader swept his gaze around at those present, then burst into unrestrained laughter.

“I heard someone has a problem with our methods? I came here especially to see who it is. If you’ve got something to say, step forward now.”

He pointed at Zhang Heng, grinning mockingly. “Is it you?”

Zhang Heng could not be bothered to answer.

What exactly was this black energy? Zhang Heng had been pondering the question all along. By now, he was certain: the black energy on these men was similar to that of the Infernal Daoist, yet it did not originate from him.

Seeing Zhang Heng ignore him, the man turned to accuse the elder at the Heavenly Origin Realm. “How about you, old man?”

Such arrogance—even Zhang Heng found it excessive, let alone a sixth-level Heavenly Origin master.

With a resounding crash, the black-clad man who had been so flippant a moment before was sent flying, embedding himself in the distant city wall—so deeply that he couldn’t be pried out.

“Who? Who did that? Step forward!” he shouted, clutching his chest in fury after his subordinates finally managed to extract him from the wall.

The elder remained utterly indifferent. “It was me.”

“Fine! You’ve angered me now.”

He bellowed, “Form up!” At his command, all the black-clad men lined up behind him, channeling their spiritual energy into his body.

At once, the black energy from each of them streamed into the leader, filling him to the brim. The leader cracked his neck and strode slowly up to the elder, taunting, “Come on, say it again. I didn’t catch that the first time.”

The elder gave no reply. With another crash, the black-clad man was slammed back into the wall, merging with it as if he were part of the stone.

Dragged out once more, the black-clad man shrieked in rage.

“No matter who you are, you’ve provoked me, and you’re dead today!”

He began to chant, his fingers moving rapidly to form a formation. With a shout to the sky—“Condense!”—the black energy in the air surged toward him, converging on his body.

Where did this black energy come from? From every ordinary citizen in the city infected by it.

Zhang Heng realized the truth: these men were using the townsfolk to nourish their evil energy, and when the time came, they would summon it with their forbidden arts.

“Stop him,” Zhang Heng said coolly.

He could not allow the man to succeed—not because he feared his strength once empowered, but because drawing the black energy from the townsfolk could endanger their lives.

The elder’s eyes flashed coldly as he ceased to toy with his adversary. In a blur, he appeared before the black-clad man, pressing a single finger against his brow.

Instantly, the man’s actions halted. In the next moment, a torrent of spiritual energy exploded within him, the blast wave sweeping through the entire City Lord’s estate.

Yet it was clear the elder had held back—though the man’s meridians were shattered and he lay limp as mud upon the ground, he was not dead.

“Go ahead and ask whatever you wish,” the elder said to Zhang Heng as he turned back.

Zhang Heng nodded and strode over to the fallen man. Since the system would not tell him, he would have to seek the answer himself.

From above, Zhang Heng looked down at the man, his expression cold and impassive. “Tell me, how can the people of this city be restored to normal?”

This was the question that most concerned him. As for everything else, the system would reveal it in due time.

The man only laughed, defiant and unyielding. “They’re doomed. Not even a golden immortal could save them now. You’re wasting your efforts.”

“You’d best cooperate,” Zhang Heng replied evenly, “or I’ll make you beg for death.”

“Old man, who are you, to dare oppose the Sect of the Shadowed God? If you have the guts, name yourself,” the black-clad man snarled, ignoring Zhang Heng and addressing the elder who had bested him.

The elder took a sip of the spirit liquid Zhang Heng had given him, then turned away with a careless reply. “I am Ling Tian.”