Volume 8 Chapter 94 Luo Sword Ling Feng. Falling Proud Feathers. (Part 3)

Had Yan San not pulled Luo Siding aside in time, the two entering successively would’ve created a new aperture in Luo Siding before he knew it. Since Luo Siding moved off the sword’s trajectory, Young Master Ling’s blade went through nine goons’ foreheads comparably to a knife through butter. “What are you doing, Yan San?!” blustered Luo Siding, not recognising the assassination technique Mount Lu Sword Sanctuary made famous - Flying Thrust Technique.

Yan San had no time for anything else but shunting Luo Siding aside with his right hand while defending with the broadsword in his left, saving Luo Siding from losing an ear. Although the stab aimed from the side of Luo Siding’s head wasn’t as forceful as the one Young Master Ling executed for his entrance, Luo Siming masked its path using angles.

“Wh-what the hell?! W-w-wait, what are you doing here?!” Luo Siding’s tongue felt paralysed.

“Uncle Wuchang…” Luo Siming dismissed his foiled sneak attack to tend to Luo Wuchang, the man who took care of his father and brothers.

Once Luo Siming freed Luo Wuchang’s clogged blood circulation path, the latter shouted, “Don’t! Don’t sell them! Those are our ancestors’ rel-, Young Master! Young Master, you are finally back! Sword Repository Hall, Sword Repository Hall…”

“Yes I’m back. I will protect our ancestors’ relics, Uncle Wuchang.” Luo Siming’s customary warmth left his eyes once he cast his gaze over to Luo Siding.

Luo Siming has changed. He’s never hurt me before, but those eyes tell me there won’t be any forgiveness. Why did I gulp so hard? I’m not afraid of Luo Siming. I’m not afraid of Luo Siming.

“Luo! Si! Ming! You’ve lost Siming Sword, so how dare you try to stare me down! You’re a cur who just cries when he’s hit, you wuss! You’re not patriarch any longer! I’m the young patriarch of Luo Clan! You’re just my punching bag! You came back to kill me?” Luo Siding sneered.

Marginalising Luo Siding, Luo Siming pressed his ring finger between his index and middle fingers, spawning snowflakes. Luo Siding instantly used Scorching Sun Spirit’s internal energy style to protect his body whilst extending his arm, only for Luo Siming to plough through his extended arms.

“I’m not interested in you. Where is your father?”

That’s the look. That’s the look Luo Siming always gives me whenever I argue, fight or steal from him. Nothing I did ever broke his composure. He always, effortlessly obtained everything, skills, power, respect and fame. Why is it always him? Why does he always get everything desirable?!

“Young Master, please do not kill him!”

Yan San ditched the close fight with Young Master Ling to erect a qi barrier around Luo Siding, lest Luo Siming kill his cousin, and then pushed Luo Siding out of the way. Yan San then took three swings each at Luo Siming and Young Master Ling, forcing them to back off. After over a hundred exchanges, the three threw a heavy swing each, sliding each other back along the ground.

Luo Siming whipped the blood from Yan San’s shoulder off his sword: “If I was to fight Flying Yan Prodigy one on one, I would lose for sure. It is a pity.”

Had it been under different circumstances, Yan San would’ve felt it was a pity to harm Luo Siming. Today, however, Luo Siming implied that he would stop at nothing to take back what was his.

“Who’s there?!” shouted Luo Siding, terminating his plan to flee and extending Wind Penetrating Pine at the presence he sensed behind him out of the blue, only to release his clutch when he felt a twinge on his wrist.

“Luo Sword Manor’s descendants are this embarrassing at a simple thrust? Practice a thousand reverse thrusts every day from now on,” lampooned Kuang Lu, holding Wind Penetrating Pine and carrying a basket on his back.

Yan San beat Luo Siming and Young Master Ling to the punch, but Kuang Lu’s speed dwarfed the two. Aware that his shoulder injury would potentially be his downfall, Yan San pressed forward, regardless. Kuang Lu suddenly folded his arms and grinned instead of hunting down Luo Siding.

More and more orthodox sects’ members showed up. Accompanying them were former prisoners of the swordplay department. It wasn’t difficult for Luo Siming to rescue the captives as Luo Clan didn’t involve themselves in the dissent between uncle and nephew, not when Luo Yan wasn’t present to display the two symbols of authority.

Kuang Lu let the smithing department’s members barricade Luo Siding. Howbeit, he immediately engaged Yan San when the latter attempted to regroup with Luo Siding, taking the fight out of Sword Repository Hall.

Luo Siming stepped forward and declared, “Luo Siding, you and your father committed murder, theft, framed people and stole Siming Sword as part of your subterfuge to occupy Repository Island and usurp authority. You are both scum from the perspective of the martial world and Luo Clan. You entered Sword Repository Hall without permission as well as insulted our ancestor’s relics. No mercy shall be shown for your crimes.”

“Dream on! My father, my father is formidable! My father has an exceptional man aiding him! Defying him is no different to courting death!” threatened Luo Siding. “Men!”

“Present!” responded the thirty-odd adepts of the smithing department.

“They have fewer men than us! Butcher them!”

“You never learn,” scoffed Luo Siming. “Advance!”

Luo Siming started swinging at incoming aggressors. It was almost impossible to see who was killing who with the way they were all clustered up and hacking away at each other.

“Kill ‘em! Kill ‘em!” Don’t spare a single one of them! I rule Luo Clan! The smithing department rules Luo Clan!” By the time he was done belting, Luo Siding found himself at the centre of his men’s corpses. Worse, Luo Siming and three of The Samuume Swordsmen had him in the centre.

The sword in Luo Siming’s hand was Samuume Sword, the sword missing from Repository Sword Hall, and the style he utilised along with his three bodyguards was none other than the sword formation that’d give Divine Realm fighters a hard time - Concealed Sword Formation. As the leader of Luo Sword Manor’s swordplay department, Luo Siming’s mastery of Concealed Sword Formation eclipsed his four bodyguards’ grasp on it. This generation’s Four Samuume Swordsmen blazing-fast improvement was attributed to Luo Siming’s assistance.

Luo Siming pointed the tip of Samuume Sword at Luo Siding’s throat and coldly questioned, “Where is Luo Yan?”

Luo Siding quavered, “I refuse to tell you. K-kill me if you’re a m-, agh! Hargh!”

Plod! Both of Luo Siding’s hands dropped onto the ground.

Luo Siming commanded, “Continue rescuing captured swordplay department members and my main branch’s people. If anyone from the smithing department resists, execute them on the spot. If they are willing to yield, they shall be shown leniency. My friends, I am grateful from the bottom of my heart for your help today. Please continue working with me to apprehend Luo Yan and publicly execute him!”

***

Meditating in Luo Clan’s secret room, Abels let out a long exhale, apprehensive about performing another excruciating, shaky inhale. Though the daoism breathing method didn’t alleviate his agony or melt the tension in his face, he obstinately tried again and again.

“Poison King’s method… treats the symptoms but not the root problem.” Abels smiled helplessly to himself.

Poison King offered a style that could heighten the potency of Abels’ internal energy in a short time. Unfortunately, using yin and yang poisons simultaneously while Abels was injured due to using his full power against Ming Feizhen and losing proved to be more excessive. The reason he kept taking the risk was because Refining Divine Convention was right around the corner.

Abels took the internal energy of yin and yang bugs, striving to utilise it alongside his original internal energy. The problem was that he gradually lost his grip on the bugs’ internal energy, causing him to lose control over his body every few days. Just as potent true qi could damage others, his potent true qi hurt him to the extent that he barely managed to keep a straight face.

“Who’s there?” Abels did his best to hide his pain from the person closing in on the doors.

I only left two guards outside to avoid anyone fi