The last ray of sunlight disappeared, as if eternal night had descended. The long street of Beiluo fell into a strange silence, as if time had frozen. Nie Changqing didn't make another move with his sword. His slight gasping broke the silence. He took a step back and stood with his sword by his side.
The four heroes of the Sword Faction worked together with perfect coordination, using their exceptional sword skills as a foundation. The leader was a grandmaster who concealed five hidden swords, and with the support of the other three, Nie Changqing was clearly at a disadvantage after just one exchange. If it weren't for the assistance of spiritual energy, enhancing both his strength and vitality, Nie Changqing would have been pierced multiple times within three moves.
"Indeed, I am still too weak. How can I venture to the south and challenge the Daoist Sect with such limited strength?" Nie Changqing gasped, his hair falling before his eyes, giving him a somewhat melancholic look.
He didn't care about the Daoist Sect, but there was someone he cared about within the sect—Lu Fan, who stood before Lao Huang. Lao Huang's back was hunched, sweat dripping from his forehead and cheeks, and his vital energy was almost freezing cold. If it hadn't been for the strange force suppressing the flying sword in the air, he might have already died at this moment.
Yueyi tightly clenched her whip, her foxy face filled with astonishment, her red lips hanging open, revealing her immense shock. Ni Yu, on the other hand, was very excited, her pretty face blushing. Luo Cheng and the others, including Chen Beixun who was being escorted, were all dumbfounded. Especially Chen Beixun, this time he truly saw...
Lu Fan rolled up his sleeves and placed a piece on the chessboard. In an instant, the flying sword froze, and the four heroes of the Sword Faction knelt down, as if the whole world had fallen silent. What kind of technique was this? Chen Beixun's magnificent beard trembled violently, and he was no longer as resolute. Despair appeared in his eyes. He thought Lu Fan's confidence came from Nie Changqing, the enigmatic Daoist Sect disciple, but he was wrong. The enigmatic one was Lu Fan, not Nie Changqing!
At this moment, Chen Beixun seemed to understand. No wonder the abandoned disciple of the Daoist Sect followed Lu Fan so devotedly. It turned out that everyone had been deceived by Lu Fan. This was a huge lie! It was over, with no hope left. Chen Beixun's legs gave way, and he sat on the ground.
The atmosphere on the street was oppressive. The flying swords remained strangely still in the air, and the four swordsmen knelt down, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Despite their shocked and terrified state of mind, they stubbornly resisted. The grandmaster who concealed five hidden swords trembled slightly, as if trying to stand up under the pressure.
On the wheelchair, Lu Fan raised an eyebrow. These four were much stronger than that Daoist Sect's ninth disciple, Han Lianxiao. The spiritual pressure he was releasing at the moment was similar to the pressure that had subdued Han Lianxiao. However, Lu Fan didn't mind. His slender fingers dropped down and once again picked up a black stone from the chess box on the armrest of the wheelchair. He rolled up his sleeves, held the stone between his middle finger and index finger, and a faint smile appeared on his white face as he looked at the four kneeling swordsmen who were resisting the spiritual pressure.
"If you can withstand my three moves without falling to the ground... You may live," Lu Fan said.
The voice was lazy, lingering in the long street.
Then, the wrist holding the chess pieces was raised high.
"Snap!"
A black piece fell on the chessboard.
Boom...
Ling Fan's body was filled with spiritual energy again, forming ripples and spreading out in an irritable manner.
The pressure increased fivefold!
Clang!
The flying swords that were originally suspended in the air seemed to be forcefully pulled and fell to the ground.
Even a few swords with slightly inferior materials were directly distorted by the pressure.
Pfft!
Except for the swordsman who concealed five swords in the sword box, the other three people all spewed blood from their mouths and couldn't withstand the pressure.
They felt that their internal organs were almost twisted and displaced by the pressure.
They fell to the ground, turned their faces sideways, and heavily smashed their cheeks on the ground, blood flowing from their mouths.
"What is this...?"
The swordsman of the sword school who concealed five swords in the sword box had red eyes and was panting heavily. His gaze passed Nie Changqing and stared at Lu Fan, who was sitting elegantly on the wheelchair.
"Just a trivial skill of a cultivator."
Lu Fan's words just fell.
The swordsman immediately "bang" and couldn't support himself, falling to the ground.
Lu Fan, who was about to place the third black piece he picked up from the chess box, sighed slightly.
"It's a pity..."
Lu Fan shook his head slightly and sighed.
"Old Nie, clean up."
A faint voice lingered.
Nie Changqing, who was carrying a knife, narrowed his eyes.
He raised the butcher knife in his hand, and the spiritual energy circulated.
The knife technique was activated.
The butcher knife immediately flew, arched in the air, passed by the necks of the four swordsmen lying on the ground, circled around, flew back to Nie Changqing's hand, and a drop of blood oozed from the blade.
Under the bodies of the four swordsmen lying on the ground, blood gradually gathered into puddles.
Lu Fan's wheelchair automatically turned in a different direction, with his back facing the dissipating four swordsmen.
Sleeves rolled up, Lu Fan calmly picked up two chess pieces from the chessboard and threw them into the chess box.
"Xiao Ni, carry it."
Ni Yu quickly carried the chessboard, straightened her chest, and stood tall and spirited.
Yi Yue's enchanting face also regained its calmness, pushing the wheelchair lightly.
The sound of wooden wheels rolling on the blue bricks brought some vitality back to the silent Beiluo Street.
Chen Beixun's eyes were dull, his body was cold.
Liu Ye and Zhu Yishan had already collapsed on the ground.
"Young... Young Master!"
Luo Cheng, wearing bloody armor, swallowed hard.
"What should we do with these people?"
Luo Cheng asked, referring to Chen Beixun and the others.
Lu Fan, who was being pushed towards the Lu Manor, supported his chin with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, and spoke indifferently.
"Treat them as rebels and handle them as such..."
Lu Fan's figure stretched out along the long street where the setting sun slanted.
A soft voice floated over.
Luo Cheng took a deep breath.
He bowed to the direction where Lu Fan's wheelchair disappeared and clasped his fists.
"Yes."
Then, he stood up straight, took off his blood-stained helmet, and waved his hand.
"Strike!"
As soon as the words fell, the iron-blooded soldiers escorting the prisoners of the three major clans drew their weapons one after another.
This time...
It was truly a bloodstained long street.
Chen Beixun sat on the ground in a miserable state, staring fixedly at Lu Fan's disappearing figure.
Just like that...
Until... his neck suddenly hurt, and the scene in front of him suddenly turned pitch black.
...
Sitting in the wheelchair, Lu Fan closed his eyes and regained his composure for a moment.
Activating the pressure chessboard to deal with the four grandmasters seemed quite effortless, but it was still a bit tricky. After all, placing a piece consumed soul strength.
Pinching his nose, Lu Fan prepared to go back and rest. Sleep can effectively and quickly restore soul strength.
Of course, that's not all.
Tonight, he still had important matters to attend to.
This matter was related to the "Missionary Platform."
He had already told Yu Wenxiu and Xiang Shaoyun that he could enter the Missionary Platform once every three days.
Tonight was the third day.
The Missionary Platform was naturally of great importance to Lu Fan. If he wanted to quickly increase his spiritual energy, besides using soul strength attribute points to exchange, he could also cultivate practitioners through the Missionary Platform to improve their spiritual energy.
"Iyue, I'm a bit tired. Let's return to the manor."
With this thought, Lu Fan didn't linger anymore and said to Yi Yue, who was pushing the wheelchair behind him.
"Okay."
Yi Yue responded and accelerated.
Hmm?
Suddenly, Lu Fan, who was resting his mind with his eyes closed, slightly opened his eyes.
Yi Yue's pushing motion also paused.
In the distance, at the horizon of the night, on the long street.
A figure in a white dress floated lightly.
A graceful figure, under the moonlight, with loose dark green hair, unparalleled elegance. She was also dragging along a beaten-up figure.
Ning Zhao stood at the end of the long street.
Seeing Lu Fan sitting in the wheelchair, her eyebrows and eyes curved like a crescent moon, and her smile was as beautiful as peach blossoms.
S: I, "Continuous Chapter," beg for votes.