Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Unmoving Bronze Bell Formation

As they spoke, the portly elder waved his hand, and a servant brought over a table and chairs, placing a pot of tea atop it. The old man sat alone, picking up a cup of tea, his eyes narrowing as he slowly savored its flavor.

Su Fan sneered, intensifying the spell in his hand. The colossal mountain continued to grow, soon reaching several hundred feet tall. On the ramparts above, a cultivator whispered in the elder's ear. The old man abruptly stood, glanced at the mountain, and said disdainfully, “No matter. It’s merely an illusion, nothing to fear.”

He then sat back down, but this time he kept his eyes open, occasionally glancing at Su Fan, as if harboring some apprehension.

Su Fan’s gaze was icy. With a flick of his finger, the hundred-foot mountain hurtled toward the ramparts, its momentum threatening to shatter heaven and earth. As it crashed down, the elder hastily rose, his face showing a hint of panic as he stared at the approaching peak. Yet, with a resounding clang, the mountain struck as though against a great bronze bell, a phantom bell flickering above the ramparts.

The ramparts remained unscathed. The elder’s grave expression gradually shifted to a smile, and he barked, “Young man, with your mere early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivation, you dare challenge this formation?” Though his words remained scornful, the panic on his face was unmistakable.

Though Su Fan’s mountain failed to threaten the ramparts, it was undamaged itself. Even the highest elders in the sect could not make the ramparts manifest the bell’s phantom. The elder now began to doubt the master’s description of Su Fan’s cultivation. According to Suo Rongcheng, he could have wiped out Su Fan countless times with a mere gesture; Su Fan was just a novice in the path of immortality.

The elder understood Su Fan’s intentions. He knew that if he didn’t stop him today, he would meet a grim end, and his family would suffer as well. He was well aware of Suo Rongcheng’s character.

With this in mind, the elder’s eyes flickered. The ten men beside him cupped their hands and flew toward Su Fan. The elder stood with his hands behind his back, smiling as he softly said, “Ten peak ninth-layer Qi Refining cultivators, to kill a single early Foundation Establishment. Hmm, is this not overkill?”

Su Fan remained expressionless as he watched the ten approach. Fan Ruoyu beside him prepared to act, but Su Fan gestured for her to stop. “I alone am enough,” he said. Su Fan wished to mask the pain in his heart with slaughter; perhaps only the annihilation of his enemies could soothe his guilt.

The ten did not attack Su Fan directly but surrounded him, clearly arranging some kind of formation.

Su Fan had studied formations for many days and had considerable proficiency, so he quickly realized their intent and tried to retreat. Yet a blue light blocked his path.

He had seen this formation in his formation diagrams; it was not complex. It could be formed by one or ten. Alone, Su Fan could break it with a flick, but with ten, especially at peak ninth-layer Qi Refining, he was cautious.

The formation pooled the cultivation of all ten, trapping the enemy and unleashing a binding spell. Careless opponents would be ambushed.

These ten were clearly well-practiced, deftly arranging the formation. Su Fan smirked, channeling spiritual energy, and soon two beams of green light formed in his hands. With a casual wave, they shot toward two of the cultivators.

Because the formation was still forming, those two could not move. Seeing the green lights rushing toward them, they involuntarily stepped back.

Immediately, Su Fan formed a blood-colored Taiji diagram, which fell swiftly and shattered the blue light with a crisp crack. All ten cultivators were flung backwards.

Without pause, Su Fan punched the nearest cultivator, who burst into a mist of blood. The remaining nine, realizing resistance was futile, tried to retreat.

Su Fan patted his storage pouch, withdrew a fan, and sent it flying toward the nine.

The Mountain Soul Fan grew immense before them; this was a spell Su Fan had learned while cultivating the Five Element Gold Technique, enabling his treasures to enlarge. The nine, seeing their escape blocked, hastily attacked the fan.

The Mountain Soul Fan simply raised and swept at them. Their attacks rebounded, striking themselves and throwing their formation into chaos.

Before they could regroup, Su Fan arrived, grabbing two by the throat, his lips curling into a slight smile. With a sudden surge of spiritual power, the two were reduced to ashes.

The other seven, seeing no escape, their eyes turned fierce, preparing to burn their lifespan and fight Su Fan with all they had.

Without giving them a chance, Su Fan recalled the fan and swept it at them. The seven fell to the ground, their flesh mangled. Su Fan collected their souls and storage pouches one by one, then looked up at the ramparts.

The elder above was furious, yet fear lingered in his eyes. He knew that if those ten had attacked him, he would have had no hope.

Those ten were the best Suo Rongcheng had selected from the stronghold to deal with Su Fan. Though the elder’s cultivation was not inferior to Su Fan’s, he felt a sense of dread.

Those ten could easily defeat even mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators, but Su Fan had dispatched them with ease. The elder hurried to flee, but recalled Suo Rongcheng’s warning: releasing Su Fan meant certain death. Moreover, the rampart’s formation was unique; Su Fan might not break it.

He turned back, meeting Su Fan’s gaze. Those blood-red eyes held nothing but hatred and slaughter.

The elder quickly turned away, adjusting his spiritual energy. Su Fan’s aura was so menacing that even someone of equal cultivation felt terror.

After a long moment, the elder turned back, feigning indifference. “Young man, killing those ten, do you think you can break this formation? You overestimate yourself.” Su Fan sneered, “Do you think I can’t break it?” The elder glared at him, saying nothing.

Su Fan put away the Mountain Soul Fan and flew high above the ramparts, raising his palm and channeling his spiritual energy. The elder glanced at him, scoffing, “You think brute force will break this formation? Ignorant child.”

Su Fan’s gaze sharpened. He struck the ramparts with his palm; a loud crash echoed as the imprint landed, shaking the ramparts violently. Beneath the ramparts, hundreds of cultivators sat cross-legged, coordinating in defense.

As Su Fan’s palm struck the bell phantom, several cultivators in the front row spat blood and collapsed. The elder, clearly aware, hastily flew down and sat cross-legged.

Su Fan said coldly, “Stacking countless defensive formations to form a bronze bell, then having all cultivators at this pass resist its blows together—ingenious. But today, I must break it.”

He hurled a few more strikes, and cultivators below continued to fall. The elder watched as his allies collapsed, his face pale. He scrambled to flee, shouting, “Hold on, everyone! I’m going to Elder Sun for reinforcements!”

As he fled, the ground where he’d been sitting was left soaked.

Su Fan, atop the ramparts, continued his assault. Gradually, the bell phantom faded, until it was almost transparent, fragile as a bubble. Su Fan smiled gently at Fan Ruoyu and beckoned her.

She smiled and flew to him. Su Fan took her hand, then slammed his other hand onto the phantom. With a thunderous crash, the bell phantom disintegrated, and the ramparts crumbled to dust.

Su Fan entered the ruins, forming a spell. A gigantic phantom hand reached for the fleeing cultivators, most of whom were fifth-layer Qi Refining. Their attacks were powerless against him. Soon, all were dragged before him.

Su Fan’s cracked lips curled as he formed a Taiji diagram, which floated above their trembling heads. A deathly aura enveloped them; they could only open their mouths, unable to beg for mercy.

The Taiji slowly descended, and blood burst from their veins, drenching the diagram in eerie scarlet.

Su Fan watched with a smile, controlling the diagram’s fall. Fan Ruoyu glanced at him, involuntarily stepping back; Su Fan was now a stranger to her.

He seemed possessed, bloodthirsty. As hundreds of cultivators turned to mist, Fan Ruoyu shut her eyes, a tear slid down her cheek. She gently supported Su Fan, saying softly, “Let us leave.” He said nothing, holding her hand as they flew into the sky.

Su Fan gripped her trembling hand, murmuring, “Do you know why I killed them?” Fan Ruoyu, relieved, whispered, “Why?”

Su Fan smiled faintly. “That day, Suo Rongcheng’s disciple Hu Peng coveted my newly acquired treasure and tried to kill me for it. I barely escaped. I swore if I met him again, I would kill him. Later, as my cultivation grew, I encountered him once more—but I no longer wished to kill him.

Yet, he still tried to kill me. I repelled him and spared his life. He plotted again, tried to kill me, and I struck him down. At his side was Ling Yuan, who journeyed with me, inviting me to seek treasure together. He witnessed it all and promised never to speak of that day’s events.”

“Ling Yuan told Suo Rongcheng?” Fan Ruoyu asked, her brows furrowed.

Su Fan was silent, acknowledging her guess. Fan Ruoyu sighed, saying nothing more, her hand tightening around Su Fan’s.

After a long while, Su Fan spoke again. “Wait for me here. The rest, I will handle alone.”

Fan Ruoyu, seeing the resolve in his eyes, bit her lip and slowly released his hand. “Be careful,” she said softly.

Su Fan looked at her, then took out a golden crossbow from his pouch and handed it to her. “Just pour in your spiritual energy and it will fire arrows. If anyone threatens you, use this for defense.”

Fan Ruoyu’s eyes widened in surprise. “Phoenix Feather Crossbow?” Su Fan smiled quietly and turned toward the next checkpoint.

Within the Three Sovereigns Stronghold’s grand hall, a middle-aged man sat, his face dark and his head resting on a clenched fist. The hall was silent. Suddenly, he roared, “The Immovable Bell Formation has been broken! Elders, can any of you speak?”

A young man stepped forward respectfully. “Father, Elder Zhou is always timid. He must have been fooled by Su Fan’s petty tricks and lost because he thought Su Fan powerful.”

The middle-aged man looked up and snapped, “Nonsense! Do you realize that the ten elite inner disciples I sent were exterminated by Su Fan? Everyone at the first checkpoint, hundreds in all, killed and their souls taken.

Even ignoring that, the formation at the first checkpoint—that was arranged by seven gatekeeping elders together, and even I could not break it by force.”

The young man’s expression changed. He whispered, “If you’re worried, Father, I will personally oversee the second checkpoint. With Elder Sun, I will take Su Fan’s head and relieve your concerns.”

Hearing this, a thin middle-aged man stepped forward, cupping his hands. “Young master, wise and brave, the stronghold master need not worry. We shall certainly kill Su Fan.”

The middle-aged man frowned impatiently. “Go, go. Gan Huai, you go as well, protect the young master.”

The two cupped their hands and left the hall.