Chapter 44: I Was Lying to You

Qin Yue’s face also showed a look of “shock.” “Who are you? Where did you learn the secret techniques forbidden to be passed on by my sect?”

The man was silent for a long moment before he spoke. “Since we’re from the same sect, I won’t kill you. Leave now. This is not something you can meddle in.”

“Bullshit! Who’s from the same sect as you? My Zhaoyang Sect is upright and honorable. When has it ever produced a degenerate and heretic like you?” Qin Yue cursed furiously.

“Young man, mind your temper, or you’ll suffer for it,” the man’s eyes flashed with a cold light at the insults, a murderous intent flickering there, but he forcibly suppressed it. “You’re still young. There’s a lot you don’t know. Ask your master when you get the chance, and you’ll understand. By the way… who is your master? At such a young age, you’ve already cultivated the Falling Leaf Sword Manual to this level. Your combat strength is impressive, close to the Cavern Reflection realm. You’re a fine talent!”

“Don’t try to act familiar or put on airs with me! I don’t believe you’re from the Zhaoyang Sect! Tell me, where did you learn the Falling Leaf Sword Manual?” Qin Yue shouted harshly.

“Watch your mouth, brat! And turn off that stupid thing on your chest!”

“You mean the Image Stone? Shit, I forgot to switch it off…”

But it was impossible he hadn’t; ever since he’d caught that young man, it had never been turned off.

The old man thought for a moment, realizing that the boy indeed hadn’t had time to activate the Image Stone, and fell silent for a moment.

“I really am from the Zhaoyang Sect, but my identity cannot be exposed. Otherwise, not only will the sect’s reputation be ruined, but your own future will be destroyed as well! I’m not threatening you. You’ve reached such a level so young. Focus on your own cultivation and do what you should.”

As he spoke, he grew somewhat emotional. “The sect master’s plans are becoming more and more ingenious, as elusive as a hanging antelope. I thought you were truly a disciple of Green Bamboo Garden… Those people acted convincingly, all intent on drawing you into the sect. Yet you’ve cultivated the Falling Leaf Sword Manual to such a degree already—you must have joined long ago. They must have crafted this identity for you as part of some special mission, right? Don’t worry, I won’t ask. Just as you shouldn’t ask me too much—I can’t answer.”

From his tone and manner, it did seem he was truly from the Zhaoyang Sect, especially from his understanding of the Falling Leaf Sword Manual, which could only come from years of arduous training.

His willingness to spare Qin Yue was because of the strictly forbidden nature of the Falling Leaf Sword Manual.

No outsider could ever learn it—it was impossible unless one was a Zhaoyang disciple.

Qin Yue pondered whether he could extract some useful information from this old bastard.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t acted “normally” either. Not only was he skilled in the sect’s untransmittable sword manual, but his displayed strength was formidable. It would be hard to use any recording as evidence.

Otherwise, just the brief footage of their fight, the obvious Falling Leaf Sword techniques, and the conversation would be enough to nail Zhaoyang Sect to the pillar of shame, their reputation destroyed!

But that wasn’t enough—he wanted not only to ruin their reputation but to utterly expose this sect that harbored heretic cultivators.

Even if he exposed this now, they’d surely deny it, claim it was a traitor, and Qin Yue himself would end up on their enemy list.

Better to keep it for now; it would be useful one day.

Having made up his mind, Qin Yue looked at the other man.

“I never knew there were heretic cultivators within our sect. Judging by your age, you must be my senior. Doesn’t your conscience ache, slaughtering those innocent people?”

He activated the small cauldron in his spiritual sea, his voice cold.

“What slaughter? That was Feng Qianning’s doing!” The old man was growing impatient now, his eyes icy as he stared at Qin Yue. “Out of fellow feeling, and seeing your outstanding talent, I’ve held back again and again, not wishing the sect to lose a young genius. Don’t be ungrateful, or if I kill you here, no one will ever know!”

Qin Yue fell silent, as if struggling internally.

“Enough. Hurry back, and warn your companion as well. She seems to care about you a lot. If you don’t want her to die, tell her to get far away!” the old man said with a sinister air.

“You’re going to keep killing?” Qin Yue looked up, a murderous intent surging inside, but his eyes showed only disappointment and anger.

“Of course! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. If you hadn’t meddled, Feng Qianning would’ve been unable to clear her name, and Bi Huo Sect would’ve taken the blame. Don’t you realize how much trouble you’ve caused?”

“That young man—was he a Zhaoyang Sect disciple too?” Qin Yue asked.

“He’s an inner disciple of the Zhaoyang Sect’s Jin State branch! That’s all you need to know. Find a chance to release him later; I’ll inform the sect, and no one will hold it against you. But you were too reckless, crippling a fellow disciple’s hand…”

Like hell you’re still trying to silence witnesses!

“How many more like you are there?” Qin Yue pressed.

“Are you interrogating a prisoner?” The old man frowned. “Didn’t I tell you not to ask about me? I don’t even want you to use your constable status to help me. You do your thing, I do mine, understand…”

He was about to lecture further when suddenly his vision blurred—Qin Yue charged at him with reckless abandon.

“Are you looking for death!”

Boom!

In an instant, terrifying sword intent erupted from the old man, forming a dreadful “web of swords”—a secret art from the latter six forms of the Falling Leaf Sword Manual!

At the same time, an endless aura of evil burst from his body, manifesting as a fearsome ghostly apparition—claws bared, it struck at Qin Yue.

But Qin Yue was too fast!

Inside him, a pale purple core spun at high speed, unleashing an overwhelming power.

His fingers gripped the inner wall of the little cauldron, holding it tight.

He swung it in a wide arc at the old bastard.

Terrifying sword energy instantly slashed at Qin Yue’s barrier, shattering it with a crash. His brand-new constabulary uniform was ripped to tatters, his skin sliced open, blood flowing freely.

The tangible ghostly apparition slapped down toward his head, less than a foot away.

But Qin Yue, having driven his Netherworld Escape technique to its utmost, was already upon the old man.

He smashed the little cauldron down, shattering the old man’s barrier, then smashing into his body.

Bang!

The instant the cauldron struck, the old man’s eyes behind the mask flew wide with terror. That overwhelming force sent him flying like a broken kite, hurled dozens of yards away!

Even a master at the Dao realm struck by something like “a mountain” would hardly survive.

Blood spewed from his lips, his ribcage shattered and caved in—he was as good as dead.

The sword web and ghostly apparition vanished without a trace the moment he was struck.

Qin Yue’s heart pounded—this old bastard was terrifyingly powerful. If not for the unexpected power of the little cauldron, he would have had no chance. The sheer sword intent of the Falling Leaf Sword Manual alone could have reduced him to ribbons.

He strode quickly over and, seeing the old man barely clinging to life, smashed his arms and legs in quick succession.

Still not satisfied, he stabbed his sword through the man’s core, destroying it completely.

The old man was utterly ruined, his eyes bulging with fury and despair as he spat out another mouthful of blood.

He had never dreamed he would die so wretchedly at the hands of a fellow sect member, nor could he fathom what strange weapon Qin Yue had wielded.

It felt like a mountain—could it be… a top-grade heavy artifact?

How unjust! How could a treasure of this caliber wind up in the hands of a mere junior disciple?

He could not understand; nor did he have the strength left to ponder it, for he was truly at death’s door.

“You damned old bastard, a murderous demon like you—letting you die like this is too easy,” Qin Yue spat in hatred. But he dared not take chances; unless he reduced this old man to ashes, he would not feel safe.

Who knew what tricks a heretic cultivator might have?

He stepped forward, removed the black mask—surprisingly light, with a faint energy ripple, clearly an artifact to block spiritual probing. No wonder he had been unable to sense the man’s features beneath it. Qin Yue put it away and looked over the old man.

He wasn’t quite dead, but close—his pupils slowly dilating.

Judging by his appearance, one would never have thought him a terrifying heretic; if not for his ashen complexion, he might even have seemed like a sage.

Qin Yue took out a rare spiritual herb, circulated his Steal Heaven and Change Sun technique, and infused a bit of vitality into the dying man.

The potent life force of the high-grade herb worked quickly, and the old man’s dilating pupils contracted again, a spark of life returning to his gaze.

“You little bastard… you dare kill me… The sect master will never… let you go! Do you realize… what a disaster you’ve caused?” he rasped, hatred and unwillingness burning in his briefly revived eyes.

“How many more people like you are there? Tell me, and I’ll leave your body whole and bury you,” Qin Yue said.

In this world, people cared about such things—no one wanted their corpse destroyed after death.

The old man wheezed, greedily sucking in the fresh mountain air.

Sunlight shone on his deathly pale face as he gave a twisted, bitter grin. “What, still want to play the righteous hero? Well, since I’m about to die, I’ll tell you—there are many more like me! You won’t come to a good end… Someone will soon come for you!”

“So Zhaoyang Sect is the true demonic sect?” Qin Yue played the part of a naive youth, his eyes brimming with disbelief.

“What is righteous, what is evil? We cultivators seek the immortal path, pursue eternal life. All the beings of this world are but ants. If they can serve as nourishment for our cultivation, it is their honor.”

The old man murmured brokenly, “Only fools like you believe in… justice. Do you know who controls people like us? Every generation… it’s the sect master!”

Qin Yue’s face was expressionless. The ones who had oppressed his clan were also the sect masters of Zhaoyang Sect across the ages.

“I have always believed in justice. It’s just that I don’t believe in Zhaoyang Sect. And by the way, that’s your damned sect, not mine.”

As he spoke, a pale purple flame appeared in his palm.

The old man’s eyes bulged wide. “You—you said you’d leave my body whole!”

Qin Yue rifled through the old man’s belongings, finding a storage ring, then pressed the pale purple flame to his face.

“I lied, you fool!”