Chapter 140: The Junior Martial Uncle in the Cyan Robe

The Nameless Lake, which was never particularly vast, was currently churning with waters of immense and majestic momentum. It seemed deeply displeased with the uninvited heavenly tribulation, yet given that water and fire are incompatible, it had一直 maintained a stance of mere observation.

At this moment, as the rain of fire filled the sky and was about to descend upon the lake's surface, the water seemed somewhat enraged. A low sigh echoed from an unknown source, followed by an abrupt and deeply sorrowful chant that drifted from nowhere.

The old woman was powerless to stop the heavenly tribulation. Even with her supreme Daoist arts and her arrogance that looked down upon all heroes, that was a heavenly tribulation. Before the tribulation, one could only kneel and beg for mercy; resistance was futile.

The cultivators who had previously been clueless were now shocked beyond shock by Su Fan's successive actions—summoning the tribulation, dodging the tribulation, confronting the tribulation, and even managing to make the tribulation show signs of retreating.

Su Fan's status in the hearts of the cultivators shifted repeatedly. Some even guessed he was a brilliant prodigy from some great clan in the imperial capital. Yet who could have known that he was merely a humble disciple from the remote border region of Tianyuan County?

His ordeal today stemmed partly from his tenacious character and the mental fortitude forged through years of fighting for survival, and partly from the insights gained within the Immortal-Demon body. The Immortals and Demons dared to defy the vast heavens; having inherited their legacy, Su Fan naturally dared to fight the heavenly tribulation.

Unfortunately, his cultivation level was ultimately too low, nor did he possess the powerful physical body of the Immortals and Demons. Thus, today's excessive consumption of spiritual power, coupled with grievous injuries, left him unconscious and teetering on the edge of life and death atop the pavilion in the center of the lake.

Seeing the sea of fire drawing closer and closer to Su Fan—where a single ray would be enough to shatter him, let alone countless numbers—Elder Liu felt an inexplicable flash of joy in his heart. However, his face quickly darkened. For such an extremely weak youth, a single flick of his finger would suffice to annihilate him. Yet, knowing the other was about to die, he actually felt a sense of relief.

This indicated that he feared the youth. A mighty expert of the Three Realms of Dao Transformation actually feared a junior who had just stepped into the Nascent Soul stage; this was a supreme humiliation. Although this was merely a fleeting thought of his own, unknown to outsiders, it had already formed an obstacle upon his Dao heart.

If Su Fan were obliterated by the tribulation today, it would be one thing; if he survived, it would be extremely difficult for this Dao heart to remain complete. An unstable Dao heart would have a profound impact on his future path of cultivation.

Thinking of this, Elder Liu deliberately moved to stand before Ye Dao and the others, implicitly signaling that anyone who dared to go rescue Su Fan would face his lethal strike.

At this sight, the old woman let out a cold snort, a willow leaf flying from her hand as she said, "Elder Liu, do you seriously believe that even while severely injured, I cannot kill you?"

Elder Liu cast a deeply apprehensive glance at the old woman and said in a deep voice, "Qin... Junior Sister, the man the master spoke of years ago who could protect the Xuanji Sect—is it this youth?"

Ye Dao's expression shifted slightly, and he hurriedly asked, "Mr. Ku?"

The old woman nodded slightly and said anxiously, "The master said purple qi comes from the East, and Su Fan precisely matches this omen. What a pity that today, with the heavenly tribulation descending, neither you nor I can save him."

Elder Liu's tense expression finally eased somewhat before he smiled and said, "In that case, Sect Master, why not agree to merge the Xuanji Sect with my Yongle Sect? The elders of the Xuanji Sect shall remain elders within our Yongle Sect, and all disciples shall be treated with equality. As for you, Sect Master, you may choose any position you wish within the Yongle Sect."

A smile played on Ye Dao's lips as his gaze drifted toward the mid-lake pavilion, a trace of anticipation hidden within his expression. He casually remarked, "Since he is not yet dead, there is still hope. Elder, further words are useless."

Elder Liu's vicious gaze remained locked onto Su Fan. The moment the first ball of fire landed, all these worries would come to an end—whether it was the flaw in his Dao heart or someone's prophecy.

One Zhang.

With only a single zhang of distance left, Su Fan remained collapsed on the mid-lake pavilion. Faint purple light could be seen flickering around his body, interspersed with an indescribable dark aura, though both were exceedingly feeble. Amidst all the light balls, there was a gray shadow, looking like a heavy stroke of ink splashed recklessly by a drunken landscape painter.

Su Fan's hands were clenched tightly into fists, though around what, only he knew—it was his jade pendant. At this moment, he could no longer move his body, but his thoughts remained clear. Yet what of it? The heaven-destroying rain of fire was about to fall, and even the jade pendant had lapsed into cowardice.

Was that the power of the heavens? Was it truly impossible to resist?

Are the heavens really so remarkable?

Yet if the heavens decree my death, what should I do?

Should I not fight them to the end?

I have yet to rescue Lan Yifeng, I haven't found Ruoyu, Peach Blossom Stream... Han Xiaoyue, the Yongle Sect.

A thousand and a myriad thoughts flooded his mind, washing away half a lifetime of worldly dust with all their sorrow and bitterness. Su Fan finally understood what death felt like, for the first ball of fire had already landed.

His fragile physical body offered not a shred of resistance before turning into dust. This was the heaviest injury Su Fan had suffered since embarking on the path of cultivation; his physical body collapsed, leaving only a Nascent Soul with a flickering, faint breath.

Even his storage bag possessed no defensive capability and was blasted to pieces by a ball of fire. In a fraction of a second, Su Fan seemed to see a gray dragon burrow into the jade pendant, after which the jade pendant melted into the Nascent Soul.

It was only a brief moment of clarity before the Nascent Soul, too, plunged into slumber, devoid of any consciousness. Even when shattered by the fireballs, he felt nothing, for that was his final spark of vitality.

"That pavilion actually remains completely undamaged."

"The lake water has actually enveloped the Nascent Soul."

"The heavenly tribulation seems to have frozen."

...

These developments unfolded in that very instant. The divine tree originating from the void ignored the power of the heavenly tribulation without losing a single bit of its luster. As the lake water churned repeatedly, it finally surged up to the top of the pavilion, wrapping around Su Fan's nearly transparent Nascent Soul.

A force so tyrannical and peerless, rivaling the heavenly tribulation itself, emerged from the bottom of the lake. The fish in the nameless lake leaped joyfully, seemingly welcoming this presence as they formed neat rows to greet it.

At the point where the fish converged, a long sword slowly materialized. The moment of the sword's appearance coincided precisely with the moment Su Fan's retreating fireballs had appeared; viewed vaguely, it almost looked as though the long sword was suppressing the heavenly tribulation's fireballs and forcing them back.

"Junior Uncle?"

Ye Dao furrowed his brow, looking doubtfully at the old woman as he asked.

The old woman wore an extremely grim expression as she glanced back at the two sect leaders, asking, "Junior Uncle?"

The leader of the Earth faction hurriedly shook his head, casting a subtle glance toward Elder Liu before blurting out, "How could that be? Junior Uncle attained Dao dissolution ages ago."

Elder Liu let out a cold snort and said angrily, "You might fool those old fogies of the Yongle Sect with such tricks, but can you fool me? He would die? Do not forget, I was also one of the survivors of the disciple trials back then."

With a bitter smile, Ye Dao turned to the leaders of the Earth and Human factions, sighing, "Junior Uncle said he wanted to watch the snow for a hundred years, and because he disliked being disturbed, he simply fabricated the excuse of passing away."

Elder Liu said helplessly, "Watching snow at the bottom of a lake? Can snow fall to the bottom of a lake?"

With an ugly expression, Ye Dao replied, "This... Junior Uncle's cultivation is profound, and his behavior eccentric; how could the likes of us see through it?"

"What do you know? Junior Uncle's sea of consciousness is immense, and his divine sense has transformed into a lake. This entire lake is formed from his divine sense, so snow falling on the lake's surface is equivalent to falling directly into his sea of consciousness," the old woman retorted disdainfully.

...

While they were speaking, that long sword finally reached its destination. The hand gripping the hilt was slender and exceedingly fair, resembling the hand of some courtesan in Falling Immortal City.

It was still extremely slow—so slow that the audience, who had been extremely tense, could not help but let out sighs. Ye Dao smiled bitterly and shook his head, sighing, "Junior Uncle's movements are slow; as juniors, we can only wait."

With these words spoken, even Elder Liu could no longer refute him. At this moment, whether judged by seniority or strength, this Junior Uncle deserved to be called the number one person.

According to the words of those ancient monsters within the sect who had not emerged for many years, when this Junior Uncle was besieged by many people joining forces back then, they still could not kill him, and in the end had no choice but to let him commit suicide himself.

Though everyone knew the truth in their hearts, as long as he had not shown himself to this day and posed no threat to the Yongle Sect, it was all negotiable. Over the years, the weakening of the Xuanji Sect had also ceased to pose any threat, and that person had made no response.

Thus, their vigilance had lessened considerably. Indeed, many disciples did not even know such a figure existed; only the older-generation elders still felt deep apprehension when mentioning this person. As for those of extremely ancient seniority, they held him in utter abhorrence.

When his entire arm came into view, a middle-aged man clad in a cyan robe could finally be seen emerging from the lake. His gaze was calm, fixed continually upon that pavilion.

Or rather, upon the crystalline Nascent Soul above the pavilion. It was not until his entire body appeared that a belated fury surfaced in his eyes—a genuine fury, without a shred of pretense, an absolute and unhidden rage.

In the blink of an eye, he landed on the pavilion, waved his sleeve to scoop the Nascent Soul into it, and then strode forward with his long sword, shattering several balls of fire to plunge directly into the clouds. This entire sequence of actions occurred in the span of a single blink.

The old woman muttered blankly, "They always said Junior Uncle's movements were slow, but little did they know that when Junior Uncle kills, he is very fast."

One could only see that not particularly sturdy figure in the cyan robe standing in the void, wielding a pale blue long sword and slicing downward. Half the dome of heaven shattered, and the blood-red corner retreated slightly.

With a second slash of the sword, the blood-red corner was severed in the middle. The cyan figure vanished into the void; in an instant, one corner disappeared entirely, while the other fled in a panic.

By the next moment, the cyan-robed figure had already arrived before Elder Liu. Expressionless, he looked at the old woman and instructed, "Ye Dao, purge the mountain gate; kill all idlers and outsiders without exception."

Then, shifting his gaze to the old woman, he remained silent for a moment before saying, "The disciple who watched the willows a few months ago is also not bad. Go tend to his injuries."

Elder Liu's eyes were lifeless; he did not dare to look at the cyan-robed man. The moment this person appeared, he had known the outcome of all this. This person's pride was higher than the sky; how could he be moved by a mere heavenly tribulation?

Yet to have his fate determined so inexplicably by someone else, and to be dismissed as an "idle outsider," left him profoundly unreconciled. He was, after all, a disciplinary elder of the Yongle Sect; reaching this position had not been easy.

"Cyan-robed Senior..."

"You belong to the Yongle Sect. Go back and tell those old fogies that this grand tournament will be decided by my Xuanji Sect, and let it be held in Qingming Valley."

There were no other words; everything was an order. Elder Liu deeply lowered his proud head, gazing at those disciples who still remained ignorant of the ways of the world. Bitterness flooded his heart, yet he still harbored a sliver of hope—the hope that Su Fan was already dead.

The cyan-robed man sank once more to the bottom of the lake, carrying with him Su Fan's crumbling Nascent Soul. Elder Liu did not dare to defy the cyan-robed man's will, nor did he take a single disciple away with him.