Chapter Seventy-Two: Slaying Grandmasters in Succession!

Someone was filming a movie at the Huating Tower!

This was the first thought that flashed through everyone’s minds, only for an instant.

Thunder crashed down like a tilted Milky Way, striking the rooftop of the building across from them with a deafening roar. The shock shattered every window in the top several floors of the Huating Tower, rousing everyone from their stupor.

Only then did they realize that the bolts of lightning falling on the opposite building were no special effects. Besides, weren’t movie special effects always rendered in post-production with computers?

Lightning pierced the heart of the sky, shards of stone spraying everywhere, so bright that no one could keep their eyes open.

“This… this…”

Jiang Shaoqi stood dumbfounded.

“What on earth is happening?” Shock spread across Zheng Xuan’s face; suddenly, her palm was slick with cold sweat. Even separated by dozens of meters, she could feel the oppressive force sweeping from the hall of Huating Tower, as if storm clouds had gathered over her head on a rainy day, pressing down so heavily she could hardly breathe.

To be precise, it was as if they were sensing the very might of heaven itself.

Amid the thunder, that figure was blurred, but it was still possible to tell he was a man, holding lightning in his hand, a presence so grand he seemed to swallow the sky.

Jiang Ziyue’s delicate body began to tremble violently, because she realized that figure looked familiar. She tried to recall desperately, and at last, the figure who walked upon the river just two nights prior and the one atop the opposite building merged perfectly in her mind. Her cherry lips parted in astonishment.

“An immortal, an immortal!”

Her second aunt, born and raised in the countryside, had grown up immersed in folk tales from her elders, and firmly believed the world was full of inexplicable things. Now, having witnessed this with her own eyes, she was already scared out of her wits. She collapsed on the rooftop, kowtowing toward Huating Tower.

A sharp gasp escaped Jiang Lingxing. If even his second aunt could hardly restrain herself, how could he? He too felt an urge to drop to his knees and worship.

Everyone’s faces were frozen, transfixed like statues, not a single movement, not even a blink.

Li Yang’s legs buckled beneath him as he shrieked, “Am I seeing things?”

A bolt of thunder on a clear day, like divine punishment descending upon the world.

Only Jiang Shaoqi’s father, Jiang Yun, remained relatively calm. Lowering his voice, he said, “Have you ever heard of a group called the martial artists of the mundane world?”

Jiang Lingxing nodded. “I remember Grandpa once saying there’s a powerful group in this world who call themselves martial artists. These people possess boundless strength, able to split metal and stone with their bare hands. Even the world’s top special forces soldiers are no match for them.”

Jiang Yun continued, “That’s right. It’s said that when martial artists of the mundane world reach a certain level, they can take an enemy general’s head amid an army of ten thousand, killing without a trace. It’s rumored that in our country, some martial artists can ride the wind with a sword, move mountains and fill seas.”

The Jiang family had once been but a minor family in Yuncheng, and knew little about these martial artists except for the occasional tales they’d overheard. The circles one moved in defined the knowledge one possessed.

At the mention of martial artists, Jiang Ziyue, Zheng Xuan, Jiang Shaoqi, and several other women looked at one another in bewilderment, having no idea what Jiang Yun was talking about.

Jiang Ziyue asked in a dry voice, “Dad, are you saying that the man across from us is one of those most powerful martial artists you just described?”

Jiang Lingxing nodded. “Judging from what we’re seeing, he’s not far from the legends—almost an immortal.”

A look of awe appeared on all their faces as they watched from afar.

With a dull thud, Jiang Ziyue’s mother could no longer withstand the oppressive force; her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground.

When a human being becomes so powerful, does it mean he can, in the name of a god, accept the kneeling worship of mortals?

Longing flickered in Jiang Ziyue’s eyes. She had always admired strength, and as a child, had begged to go to Shaolin Temple to learn martial arts. After being scolded and beaten, she never mentioned it again, but the admiration had never faded.

“If only I could become that man’s disciple,” she thought.

A hundred feelings flooded her heart all at once.

…

With a single stomp of his foot, Jiang Yu caused the already precarious rooftop to collapse downward in an instant.

The battered Old Master Jiang, along with the four energy-transforming masters, dropped down amid a cloud of dust that blotted out the sky. After several minutes, the thunder finally dissipated. The Heavenly Astral Thunder Array was reduced to ash the moment the thunderbolts fell.

When setting up the array, Old Master Jiang had drilled holes atop the building and placed the formation’s core, so the array was essentially integrated with the rooftop itself. As the array was destroyed, the affected rooftop became more unstable than ever.

After several bolts of thunder, the structure was already teetering, ready to collapse at any moment.

With Jiang Yu’s stomp, the once-solid floor gave way completely.

Boom!

The seventy-ninth floor of Huating Tower shuddered violently as Jiang Yu descended through the air, walking on nothingness.

One master, his body scorched black and all hair burned away, struggled to stand. Suddenly, he looked down in terror and realized his feet were no longer touching the ground.

Jiang Yu grabbed him by the neck with one hand, lifting him into the air. “You shouldn’t have provoked me.”

“No, spare—”

Before he could finish the word “me,” Jiang Yu snapped his throat. A master died on the spot.

Old Master Jiang was already scared out of his wits. Today, there was no escape. Knowing Jiang Yu would never let him go, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said to the other three, “Why are you still holding back? Fight him with everything you have!”

This young man’s strength was simply overwhelming.

From start to finish, apart from a scratch left by a bullet across his face, he was virtually unscathed—not even a wrinkle on his clothes.

Steeling himself, Old Master Jiang bit his tongue hard. His throat convulsed as he took out a talisman covered in strange runes—a life-saving card personally crafted by the head of the Celestial Master Sect, Hao Xu the Hermit.

It was equivalent to the most powerful blow of a top-level energy fusion master.

“Celestial Master’s Palm of Light, lend me divine might!”

With a shout, the talisman in Old Master Jiang’s hand burst into a blinding light. A strand of lightning, no thicker than a hair, slithered through the air, shooting straight for Jiang Yu.

This bolt of lightning actually made Jiang Yu feel a hint of danger.

Whoever could forge such a talisman must have cultivation already at the pinnacle of mastery, separated from the Earthly Immortal Realm by only the thinnest of veils.

Jiang Yu snorted coldly and simply reached out his hand, grasping the air.

The bolt of lightning was crushed in his palm.

At the same time, three figures shot toward Jiang Yu from different directions, swift as lightning. Jiang Yu casually swung a fist, looking plain and unremarkable, yet it so terrified the master in front of him that his hair nearly stood on end.

Bang!

Dust billowed as Jiang Yu’s punch landed. The first thing to give way was not the man, but the gilded brick floor beneath his feet. With a loud crash, the seventy-ninth floor sank again, as though a demolition crew was at work overhead.

To face five energy-transforming masters at once—aside from Shen Wan’an, this was the strongest force Jiang Yu had ever encountered since his rebirth. Though he did not fear them, killing them all in a short time would not be easy.

Unless he used his trump card—but that would not be worth the risk. Don’t forget, the Hidden Sect was still lurking nearby, watching in secret.

He had to make sure that after slaying these five masters, if the Hidden Sect took advantage, he would still have the power to save his life.

A cloud of blood appeared out of thin air—another master was struck down by Jiang Yu.

At last, Old Master Jiang realized in despair that they didn’t even have the right to fight for their lives. All his myriad techniques and divine powers could not even scratch his opponent’s defenses—they were utterly useless.

One of the masters, ignoring any sense of dignity, resorted to desperate measures. Clutching an alloy dagger, he tried to sneak up on Jiang Yu. To drive a master to such extremes, in all of vast China, only Jiang Yu could do it.

As for Jiang Yu, each casual punch he threw—dodge and you might survive, fail and you’d end up like the mist of blood drifting through the air.

Old Master Jiang felt as though he were battling an immortal.

Not even he, with all his knowledge, had heard of the techniques Jiang Yu was displaying—especially the summoning of heavenly thunder, truly channeling the might of the heavens. Even the head of the Celestial Master Sect, Hao Xu the Hermit, could not perform such a feat.

“Sir, what will it take for you to let us go?”

Old Master Jiang’s heart pounded in terror. All will to fight had left him.

He wanted nothing more than to flee, to escape from Yuzhou, and if he ever saw this monster again, to turn and run without a word. Only hundreds of kilometers away would he feel safe.

“If you can withstand a single blow from me, I’ll spare your life.”

Jiang Yu smiled, formed his fingers into a blade, and slashed through the air.

A turquoise ribbon of light shot from his fingertips—a beam that seemed to slice through the void itself, so sharp it defied all description, as though it would cleave the heavens apart. In the eyes of the two remaining masters, the turquoise beam cut Old Master Jiang cleanly in two, then sliced through the wall and traced a line in the air for over a dozen meters before finally fading.

On the wall, it left a mark an inch wide and several yards long.

Sunlight poured in from above, and the shadow on the floor was split in two.

On this day at Huating Tower, three masters were struck down in succession—Jiang Yu’s might shook all of Yuzhou!