Chapter 39: Let me die knowing the truth—who exactly are you!

How many Xiantian Realm experts were there in the entire Luyang Prefecture?

Even if Yang Yaozu had never met every single Xiantian expert, he had heard their names, knew their physical characteristics, and was aware of their signature techniques and combat skills.

But as for the Zhang Yuan standing before him, he was certain he had never seen him, nor had he ever heard of him.

"When did Luyang Prefecture produce such a Xiantian expert..."

Yang Yaozu muttered under his breath as he collapsed to the ground. Then, with a pale face, he scrambled up and sprinted toward Guangyuan Village.

Why was there fire in Guangyuan Village?

"If anything happens to my brothers in the village..."

He didn't dare think about it.

Those monks from Liangyuan Domain who had arrived had appeared kind and spoke very cordially.

They had only said that because they were Buddhist disciples, it was inconvenient for them to act within the Great Qin, so they sought help from Guangyuan Village.

They had also demonstrated their strength—they were indeed powerful—but they showed no intention of bullying the weak.

Furthermore, the leading monk had promised that once the treasure was recovered, he would take Yang Yaozu as a disciple and personally teach him Buddhist fist techniques.

Everything had been agreed upon.

So why was fire rising from Guangyuan Village now?

Zhang Yuan had no such questions; he simply moved through the air, covering ten feet with every stride.

While a martial artist in the Xiantian Realm could not achieve the legendary ability to fly on qi or the immortal art of sword flight, they possessed True Yuan within their bodies, allowing them to be as light as a swallow, as swift as a galloping horse, and to tread upon the air like clouds.

Two years ago, Zhang Yuan had found a decent martial arts technique for body lightness and had practiced it in secret.

Battlefield generals rarely practiced lightness techniques because their paths were different, making the training quite unpleasant.

For Zhang Yuan, there were no such concerns.

He simply mastered the technique and then used the Insight Beads to enhance it; in just over half a year, he had integrated that lightness technique into his own "Mountain and River Movement."

The practice of the lightness technique not only gave him the agility and speed of a wandering martial artist but also added a new layer to his comprehension of power.

To lift something heavy as if it were light, and something light as if it were heavy—he could shift between these two modes of control at will, achieving a true transition of Yin and Yang.

As he sprinted through the air, a golden-red light glowed in Zhang Yuan's eyes.

Upon the mountain ridges ahead, besides the soaring flames, only scattered pillars of faint red light remained.

In a village of hundreds, were only this many people still alive?

The killing intent in Zhang Yuan's eyes condensed into a physical substance.

The bandits of Guangyuan Village could be killed, but that was a task for the Great Qin government.

But for the Buddhist followers of Liangyuan Domain to come to Great Qin to kill people—that was unacceptable!

As his gaze swept across, he saw more than ten red-tinted pillars of light within the ridges behind the village.

Among them, one was actually an orange-red hue, a color unique to the Xiantian Realm.

While serving in the Martial Guard Office, Zhang Yuan had seen information regarding the Buddhist practitioners of Liangyuan Domain.

These Buddhist practitioners frequently infiltrated Great Qin and other nations, using the guise of "equality of all living beings" and "the Buddha saving the world" to spread their teachings.

However, these followers who shouted about compassion were, in reality, utterly ruthless when it came to killing.

Zhang Yuan's figure blurred like an arrow released from a bow, reaching the mountain ridge in a few flashes.

"Who goes there!"

"Watch out!"

Shouts of alarm rang out from within the forest.

Zhang Yuan landed upon the treetops. Below him, a bald, burly man stepped onto a tree trunk, leaped ten feet high, and swung a heavy punch toward Zhang Yuan's head.

The punch was fierce and heavy; if it landed, it would surely shatter ribs and displace internal organs.

It seemed the records were true: these followers who preached compassion were not compassionate at all when they struck.

Perched on the treetop, Zhang Yuan braced himself with one foot, crouched slightly, and then drove his right foot downward with immense force.

This move was the "Greeting Horse Squat" from the martial arts of the wandering world, which allowed one to use a single foot to push off with great power.

The force of the strike was like a galloping horse trampling forward.

*Boom!*

Zhang Yuan's foot landed squarely on the burly man's chest, driving his body down ten feet until he crashed into the rocks of the forest.

Zhang Yuan descended following the impact, stepping forward to stomp directly onto the fallen man's head.

*Splat!*

A mess of red and white.

In the forest, the Buddhist followers who had been sitting in a circle stood up, staring at Zhang Yuan, who had descended from the sky with blood beneath his feet.

In the darkness of the night, Zhang Yuan looked like a demon god.

For a moment, all the bald men stood frozen in place.

They had seen ruthless killers before, but never anyone so merciless.

A few breaths later.

"Kill him!"

Someone roared, swinging a long staff toward Zhang Yuan's head.

On another side, two others did not hesitate, swinging heavy sabers horizontally toward Zhang Yuan's waist.

A few gray-robed followers standing nearby gripped their staves and sabers tightly, their faces twisted with ferocity as they stared at Zhang Yuan.

*Boom!*

The staff descending from above was shattered by one of Zhang Yuan's punches.

His right fist surged upward while his left fist drove forward in a stepping punch, the movements seamless and fluid.

The "Mountain Shifting" technique from his Mountain Fist merged with the "Half-Step Collapsing Punch" from his Iron Armor Fist; his unified combat style moved as his will dictated.

*Crack!*

Zhang Yuan's left fist struck the chest of the staff-wielding follower. The man's body was instantly sent flying, blood erupting from his mouth.

His flying body slammed into a pine tree a foot thick.

With a loud *crack*, the trunk slowly snapped.

This single punch carried more force than a charging ox!

"Xiantian Realm!"

A monk ahead, wielding a crescent moon blade and wearing a string of prayer beads the size of duck eggs around his neck, shouted, "Retreat!"

Instead of retreating, he charged forward, swinging his crescent moon blade horizontally toward Zhang Yuan's waist.

With two sabers slashing down from his sides and a crescent blade sweeping in front, Zhang Yuan's only logical choice was to retreat.

However, he did not retreat.

In this world, the only thing that could make him retreat would likely be a Grandmaster.

As the two sabers descended, he met them head-on, raising his arms and charging through like a galloping horse.

The two sabers struck nothing but air. The two bald warriors were struck in the chest by Zhang Yuan's arms, coughing blood as they tumbled backward.

The True Yuan carried within the strike had already shattered their bones.

Back in Fengtian County, Zhang Yuan and Young Master Tao had been pierced through by an arrow from a Xiantian expert; Zhang Yuan had fared well, but Young Master Tao had been completely stripped of his martial path.

Such was the dominance of Xiantian True Yuan.

Having struck down two men, Zhang Yuan spun around and delivered a kick to block the incoming crescent moon blade.

*Boom!*

A surge of Xiantian energy spiraled upward, transforming into a gale that sent pine needles and loose rocks swirling in the air.

The surrounding bald warriors were forced backward by the sheer pressure.

When two Xiantian experts clash, all below the Xiantian Realm are merely ants.

"Aaaagh!"

From the lower ridges, Yang Yaozu's heart-wrenching screams echoed.

Zhang Yuan remained expressionless, stepping forward as his external True Yuan condensed around him like golden armor.

"Benefactor, you and I have no prior grievances. Today must be a misunderstanding," the monk with the crescent blade said in a heavy voice, dragging his weapon as he took a slight step back.

A faint blood-red light flickered in Zhang Yuan's eyes. "Entering my Qin lands and killing my Qin people... this Lieutenant shall send you to meet your Mingwang Buddha today."

As the words fell, Zhang Yuan took a step, lowered his waist, and threw a punch.

As the punch was unleashed, golden light gathered at the knuckles, and a faint silhouette of a mountain appeared behind him.

"Manifested Fist Intent!"

The Xiantian Buddhist practitioner ahead looked as if he had seen a ghost, crying out in terror as he raised his crescent blade to defend himself.

*Crack!*

The crescent blade snapped. A massive force, like a collapsing mountain, slammed into the monk's chest.

The duck-egg-sized prayer beads shattered, sinking deep into his sternum as the Xiantian monk was sent reeling backward.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

After the third step, he collapsed to the ground, looking up at Zhang Yuan.

"Let me die with understanding."

"Who... exactly... are you?"

(End of Chapter)