Chapter 77: To Hand Over or Not

“Ahem, it’s nothing special.” Feng Chuxun climbed back to his feet, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and sneered. Feng Xingzi’s eyes narrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing through them. Feng Chuxun’s tenacity had exceeded his expectations...

“So you’re taking my mercy for granted as your shield?” Feng Xingzi spoke softly, a trace of mocking contempt in his tone.

“If you don’t kill me this time, when my turn comes, you’re as good as dead!” Feng Chuxun let out a sinister grin.

“Go!”

Feng Xingzi uttered no more words, issuing a silent command to his spirit manifestation. The lion roared, its mane seeming to deepen in color in an instant. One could see a faint murderous intent flicker in the lion’s eyes. It was not its own; linked heart to heart with Feng Xingzi, it embodied the commands and intentions he transmitted.

“Kill!” At the cold shout, Feng Chuxun moved first once again.

Cold light erupted; several sword beams split from Feng Chuxun’s blade, followed by more sword gleams slashing out. The silvery sword light tore through the air, so sharp that space itself seemed to twist, making the sword gleams appear both distant and suddenly right before the eyes.

The lion lifted its paw and casually swatted; the oncoming sword beams scattered into motes of light. Then the lion stared warily at the looming sword gleams, letting out a low growl.

But Feng Xingzi noticed that Feng Chuxun had vanished from his spot. He quickly scanned the arena for any sign of him.

“Below!”

By the time Feng Xingzi spotted him, Feng Chuxun had already appeared beneath the lion, immediately prompting Feng Xingzi to issue another command.

The lion lowered its head, but Feng Chuxun was already prepared beneath it. His longsword thrust upward with sudden force, aiming straight for the lion’s underbelly. Feng Xingzi’s heart lurched, yet another command flashing through his mind.

The lion’s half-raised paw dropped, and its massive body sprang backward in a leap.

For all its size, the lion was astonishingly agile!

Missing his strike, Feng Chuxun showed no sign of disappointment; instead, a sly smile appeared on his lips.

The next instant, the sword gleams caught up. Feng Chuxun raised his sword, the beams merging back into his blade. The three-foot sword instantly extended several more feet, thrusting forward and unleashing a cascade of explosive sword light.

In a moment that left the onlookers in disbelief, Feng Chuxun’s sword pierced into the lion’s left fore-shoulder with a sickening sound! The length compensated for the lack of speed.

With the sword embedded in the lion’s shoulder, Feng Chuxun did not hesitate; gripping the hilt, he drove it forward with brutal force! The entire blade, save for the hilt, vanished into the lion’s body!

The lion let out a heartrending howl, but Feng Chuxun didn’t pause for a moment. Unleashing an overwhelming aura from his hands, he gripped the lion’s shoulders like iron pincers, one hand still on the sword hilt.

Sensing what Feng Chuxun intended, terror crept into Feng Xingzi’s eyes. He shouted, “Stop!”

What was he trying to do?

Everyone could hear the panic in Feng Xingzi’s voice and wondered the same.

Feng Chuxun’s actions quickly supplied the answer.

A fierce energy erupted from Feng Chuxun, but soon after, an even more violent aura surged up—this time from within the lion itself, or more precisely, from the sword lodged inside!

“Bastard, I said stop!” Feng Xingzi could no longer remain still. He dashed toward them, his voice thick with rage and fear...

A piercing sword cry rang from within the lion as Feng Xingzi arrived in a flash, but Feng Chuxun had already released the hilt and leaped back.

Now, Feng Xingzi no longer cared about anything else; he immediately turned and fled, as if something dreadful was about to occur.

The lion writhed in agony, its massive body twisting, as if something inside was rampaging out of control.

Suddenly, as he dodged, Feng Xingzi’s face turned deathly pale, and he spewed a mouthful of blood, collapsing forward. The other members of the Feng clan rushed to his side.

“Brother Xing, are you alright?”

They rolled him over, and the sight of his pallid face, blood streaming from every orifice, and his feeble breath left them all aghast.

“This is bad—it’s backlash!”

One who recognized the symptoms cried out in alarm.

“But his spirit manifestation doesn’t look that badly wounded!”

No sooner had the words been spoken than the sound of something shattering echoed, faint but unmistakable.

All eyes turned to the lion, silent for some time now. The lion had reverted entirely to its energy form, cracks spreading swiftly across its glowing body...

With a thunderous boom, the lion exploded, scattering into countless fragments, which then burst into dazzling motes of light before fading away completely.

A sword hilt and several broken pieces fell to the ground. Clearly, these were fragments of Feng Chuxun’s sword—it had been destroyed...

“What a madman!”

Feng Chuxun’s savagery left a deep impression on everyone within the safety zone. Whether this was truly a fight to the death, they could not say. But had Feng Xingzi unleashed his spirit manifestation from the start, would it still have been so grievously wounded, and would the master have suffered such harm?

In the end, Feng Xingzi lost to his own underestimation, while Feng Chuxun prevailed through his sheer, reckless madness.

To detonate one’s spiritual weapon—who had the nerve? Who would dare?

This was a contest with no true victor.

“He’s only getting crazier!” a soft sigh sounded among the Cangyun Sect’s ranks, and many disciples nodded in agreement. In their eyes, Feng Chuxun’s actions were simply not worth it.

But was that really true?

The true disciples of Cangyun Sect saw through it, and in their hearts, they could not help but admire Feng Chuxun’s wild spirit.

Yes, because he was a madman.

Indeed, he was Feng Chuxun the Mad. Only he could accomplish such miraculous feats!

“Disciples of the Sword Sovereign Sect, heed my order: if you ever encounter this man, avoid provoking him at all costs!”

Among the Sword Sovereign Sect’s group, a figure in simple robes let out a long breath, issuing a command that brooked no argument. His words carried such weight and authority that the Sword Sovereign disciples treated them as sacred decree.

“Take revenge for Brother Xing!”

In their grief, someone from the Feng clan finally pointed the finger at Feng Chuxun.

At this moment, Feng Chuxun was hardly any better off. To detonate a spiritual weapon that had recognized him as its master by blood, and had been used for so long—he had blown it up without hesitation. The backlash, though not fatal, was not something he could wholly avoid.

Moreover, the lion’s earlier swipe had left Feng Chuxun with internal injuries, now made even worse! The fact that he could barely stand was already a remarkable feat.

Seeing the Feng clan disciples turn their wrathful glares upon him, Feng Chuxun forced himself to remain wary, refusing to take a step back.

“Seize him! Make him kneel before Brother Xing!”

At these words, the surrounding teams frowned slightly—this was simply unreasonable!

Watching the Feng clan close in step by step, Feng Chuxun gritted his teeth, lips pressed tightly together, but he did not yield an inch!

“You’ve done enough. Leave the rest to me.”

A gentle voice sounded behind him, like a breeze clearing his heart of all burdens, imbued with a mysterious magic that instantly melted his defenses.

“I really... can’t hold on anymore...” The tension drained from Feng Chuxun’s body, and he collapsed backward—right into someone’s arms.

Shen Qingyun looked down at him, smiling faintly. “Sleep. When you wake, everything will be new.”

“I really don’t want to listen to you...” Feng Chuxun muttered stubbornly, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, finally closing. A rare smile played on his lips, as innocent as a child’s.

With Shen Qingyun’s arrival, the Feng clan disciples stopped in their tracks.

“Him too! He’s the root of all this. He must kneel before Brother Xing as well!”

Shen Qingyun’s smile faded as he turned his gaze to the one who had shouted.

“You want me to kneel?”

His voice was calm, yet carried a peculiar gravity that rendered the Feng clansman speechless.

“Of course.”

If he did not speak, others would.

“If not for you, Brother Xing would never have been so terribly injured. You should bear the main responsibility!”

“Responsibility? Responsibility means kneeling? There are still those in this world who dare demand that I kneel?”

Shen Qingyun’s face was expressionless as he stared at them, and even that gaze alone filled them with immense pressure.

“If you refuse to kneel, at least hand him over!”

The Feng clan, unable to meet Shen Qingyun’s eyes, turned instead to point at Feng Chuxun, who lay unconscious, supported by a disciple from Bambooside Peak.

“Then ask them—are they willing to hand him over?” Shen Qingyun threw the problem to the Bambooside Peak disciples. All eyes turned to them; whether to hand Feng Chuxun over or not would depend on their response. If even one of them showed willingness, that person would be cast out from the group!

So, to hand him over or not became their hardest choice.

To be honest, they shared little friendship with Feng Chuxun; in fact, they usually avoided him on Bambooside Peak. His fate had nothing to do with them.

Yet, to hand over a teammate under the scrutiny of so many—could they face themselves?

In the end, all twelve fell silent...

“I say, if you have the guts, come and try. If you can trample me down, then you can have him.” Ling Xiao crossed his arms, staring straight at the Feng clan.

“I agree with Senior Brother Ling,” Su Ye nodded fervently.

“My sister and I are weak, but we won’t let you just take Senior Brother Feng away!” Qiao Xinyu declared.

“That’s right. As fellow disciples of Bambooside Peak, I can’t stand by and watch you take him,” Wu Xier added.

Eighteen in all, and already five had spoken. What of the remaining twelve?

Everyone watched in silence, waiting for their choice...