Chapter 111 Mysterious Stone Tablet

"Sect Master Zhang."

Ye Haocheng crouched down and used the blood-stained blade of his sword to gently pat the cheek of Sect Master Zhang Baizong. The cold touch made Sect Master Zhang Baizong shudder, and he regained a bit of his senses.

"I am curious about one thing."

Ye Haocheng looked directly into the murky eyes of Sect Master Zhang Baizong. Although his tone was calm, it carried an undeniable sense of oppression. "Prince Cao Fen and Prince Chu Lie want to kill me because of benefits and hatred; that I can understand."

"But you..."

Ye Haocheng narrowed his eyes slightly. "You and I have never met before, and we have no grudges. I even came to attend your sect's Furnace Opening Ceremony; I am technically a guest."

"Yet from the very beginning, you have been painstakingly targeting me, even going so far as to sacrifice the reputation of your entire sect to ensure my death."

"Why?"

"Who gave you the courage? And who... gave you the order?"

Ye Haocheng did not believe for a second that Sect Master Zhang Baizong would act so crazily merely to protect the so-called Saint Son Wang Shan.

Someone who could reach the position of Sect Master must be an old fox who prioritized interests above all else.

Even if Saint Son Wang Shan were killed, a normal reaction would be to weigh the pros and cons, not to fight to the death and even summon the ancestor while knowing full well that Jin Daoming possessed terrifying strength.

Behind this, there must be an invisible hand driving things.

Upon hearing the interrogation from Ye Haocheng, a strange gleam suddenly appeared in the originally ashen eyes of Sect Master Zhang Baizong.

He slowly raised his head, looked at Ye Haocheng, who was inches away, and suddenly grinned, letting out a hair-raising, weird laugh.

"Hehe... Hehehe..."

The laughter grew louder and more frantic, and paired with his blood-covered face, he looked like a malicious ghost.

"Ye Haocheng... you are very smart, truly very smart..."

Sect Master Zhang Baizong panted heavily, his voice hoarse. "You want to know why? You want to know the mastermind?"

The eyes of Sect Master Zhang Baizong were brimming with such resentment that it seemed ready to spill over. "I refuse to tell you!"

"You destroyed my sect... then I curse you... I curse you to die a horrible death!!"

Before he even finished speaking, a flash of determination crossed the eyes of Sect Master Zhang Baizong.

Jin Daoming seemed to sense something and was just about to intervene.

But it was already too late.

Pfft!

Sect Master Zhang Baizong bit down hard on the tip of his tongue, a secret technique for cultivators to sever their own heart meridians. At the same time, the last trace of spiritual energy in his body surged backward into his brain.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed. Sect Master Zhang Baizong bled from his seven orifices, his pupils dilated instantly, and his body fell straight backward.

He had severed his own heart meridians!

He would rather die than utter a single word!

Looking at the gradually cooling corpse of Sect Master Zhang Baizong, Ye Haocheng frowned slightly, but he did not feel angry about the interruption of the clues.

He stood up, took a clean white handkerchief from his robe, and methodically wiped the blood off the heaven-burning sword.

"Not talking, huh..."

Ye Haocheng casually tossed the blood-stained handkerchief onto the corpse of Sect Master Zhang Baizong and gazed toward the distant south—the direction of the Great Chu Dynasty.

"Actually, it doesn't matter whether you talk or not."

Ye Haocheng sneered inwardly.

Ye Haocheng sheathed the heaven-burning sword. The heaven-shaking killing intent on his body instantly receded, and he returned to being the calm and composed youth he was before.

"Since you want me dead so badly, then I refuse to die."

"Not only will I live, but I will also walk step by step toward you and personally smash that rotten dynasty to pieces!"

...

After finishing all this, Ye Haocheng turned around and looked toward the edge of the square.

There, hundreds of ordinary disciples and deacons of the Sword Burial Mound Sect were still kneeling.

They were trembling, not daring to lift their heads, waiting for the final judgment. Since even the ancestor and the Sect Master were dead, their lives and deaths depended solely on Ye Haocheng's whim.

Jin Daoming stepped forward, the killing intent still lingering in his eyes, and asked in a low voice, "Young Master, when cutting weeds, one must remove the roots. Leaving these people alive will only cause trouble. Why not..."

He made a throat-slitting gesture.

Ye Haocheng's gaze swept over the trembling crowd. Looking at those young, terrified faces, he was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

"No need."

"The primary culprits have been executed; there is no point in killing these ants."

Ye Haocheng knew very well that after today, the Sword Burial Mound Sect would exist in name only.

Without the Martial Venerable Realm ancestor, with most of the Martial Saint elders dead, and the Sect Master having committed suicide.

The surrounding forces, which had been eyeing them covetously, would pounce like hungry wolves and devour this fat piece of meat entirely.

Letting these people live posed no threat to him at all.

"Let's go."

Ye Haocheng did not take another look at the ruins.

"Yes."

Leng Yi and Jin Daoming, silent as ice, followed closely behind.

The sun set in the west, the remaining light looking like blood.

Three figures cast long shadows as they stepped over the blood and rubble covering the ground, walking step by step down Mount Ten Thousand Swords.

Inside the top-tier private room of "Tingyu Pavilion," the largest inn in Jianlai City.

Outside the window, the night was deep, and the drizzling rain had not ceased. Instead, it fell faster and harder with the night wind, pattering against the window lattice.

The atmosphere in the city was eerily oppressive. Although the news from Mount Ten Thousand Swords had not yet fully spread, the disappearance of the aura fluctuations from the top-tier experts, along with the faint scent of blood drifting in the air, made this bustling city, which relied on the Sword Burial Mound Sect, instinctively feel a sense of unease.

Inside the private room, the candlelight flickered.

Two figures, one fat and one thin, were pacing back and forth like ants on a hot pan.

"Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable! Why aren't they back yet?"

Wu De's fat, massive face was almost pressed against the crack in the window, his small, mung bean-like eyes filled with anxiety. The horsetail whisk in his hand was slick with sweat. "Little Baize, do you think Ye Haocheng and the others will be alright? That is a Martial Venerable Realm expert! What if... I mean, what if that old monster wasn't lured away, or if he turned back halfway? The stunt we just pulled with that shovel would have brought the sky down upon us!"

Baize, who had transformed into a handsome youth, sat at the table holding a cup of hot tea. Although he feigned calmness on the surface, his slightly trembling fingers betrayed his inner tension. "You fat bastard, can you shut your crow's mouth?" Baize glared at him and said irritably, "Since the Young Master arranged to lure the tiger away from the mountain, he naturally has confidence. Our current task is to guard this treasure well. If this thing is lost, that is when we will truly lose our heads."

As he spoke, Baize's gaze involuntarily drifted toward the corner of the room.

There, a cyan stele about three zhang tall, wrapped in layers of talismans, stood quietly, emitting an ancient sword intent that made one's heart palpitate.

Just as Wu De was getting anxious and wanted to go back to peeking out the window, a very slight "creak" sound suddenly came from the door.

Without any knocking, the door was pushed open.

A cold wind, mixed with the dampness of rain and a strong scent of blood, instantly poured into the warm private room.

Wu De's fat body shuddered, and he turned around abruptly, his hands already clutching three top-grade Earth Escape Talismans. If it had been anyone from the Sword Burial Mound Sect, he would have abandoned Baize and run away in an instant.

However, what met his eyes was Ye Haocheng, dressed in white as snow, without a single speck of dust on him.

Behind him were Leng Yi, with a face cold as ice, and Jin Daoming, who was still picking his teeth with a look of lingering enjoyment.

"Ye... Ye Haocheng?!"

The vigilance in Wu De's eyes instantly turned into wild joy, and his entire body bounced over like a meatball. "Oh my! My Young Master Ye! You're finally back! My heart was about to jump out of my throat!"

Ye Haocheng glanced at him indifferently, walked straight to the main seat to sit down, and poured himself a cup of tea to moisten his somewhat dry throat. "Did you get it?"

"Got it! Of course I got it!"

Wu De rushed to the corner like he was presenting a treasure and tore off the concealment talismans covering the stele.

Hum—!

In an instant, a vast, immense, and incomparably sharp sword intent filled the entire room. If Wu De hadn't set up an isolation array around the room beforehand, the mere eruption of this sword intent would have been enough to tear down the entire "Tingyu Pavilion."

This was the Sword Burial Mound Sect's treasure of the sect—the sword enlightenment stele.

Ye Haocheng put down his tea cup, his gaze landing on the stele.

He saw that the surface of the stele was covered with the mottled traces of time, densely carved with countless ancient characters and sword marks that looked like tadpoles.

Each sword mark seemed to contain the ultimate enlightenment of a peerless sword cultivator regarding the Dao of the sword.

"Good stuff." Jin Daoming leaned in, also clicking his tongue in wonder. "The sword techniques recorded here have likely touched the threshold of the Saint Realm. No wonder that bunch of trash from the Sword Burial Mound Sect worships it like an ancestor."

However, the gazes of those present did not linger on the peerless sword techniques for long.

Whether it was Ye Haocheng, Wu De, or even Baize, who was a divine beast, their true goal was never the sword techniques on the surface of the stele.

It was the shocking secret rumored to be hidden inside this stele—the clue to a legacy secret realm left behind by an ancient Martial Venerable, or perhaps even a peak Martial Venerable powerhouse!

"Come, come, don't just stand there, let's quickly figure out how to unlock this thing." Wu De rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining. "According to ancient records, this sword enlightenment stele is the key to opening the secret realm. But as for how to use it exactly, we still need to figure it out."

Everyone gathered around the stele.

Wu De made the first move, casting complex array incantations, attempting to trigger the restrictions inside the stele. Jin Daoming tried to forcibly penetrate it with his divine sense, and Baize even used his innate divine ability to perceive all things to sense it.

However, half an incense stick of time passed.

The stele remained just a stele. Apart from emitting sharp sword intent, there was no reaction at all. It was like a foul, stubborn rock, completely ignoring everyone's methods.

"That's strange..." Wu De scratched his bald head, looking frustrated. "My 'Dragon-Seeking and Point-Locating Hand' has never failed before; why isn't it working today? Does it require a drop of blood to recognize its master?"

Ye Haocheng also withdrew his palm from the stele at this moment, his brows slightly furrowed.

There was indeed an extremely obscure energy fluctuation inside the stele, but it was locked by an extremely sophisticated seal.

This seal was not a simple spiritual energy seal; it seemed to involve some kind of Law power. Even he could not find a way to break it in the short term.

"It seems this secret cannot be unlocked in a short time."

Ye Haocheng shook his head, not dwelling on it too much.

At this moment, Wu De, who had been observing Ye Haocheng's expression with his shifty eyes, rolled his eyes and suddenly leaned in, his face wearing a fawning smile as he tentatively asked:

"Um... Young Master Ye, this Taoist is quite curious about something."

"Hmm?" Ye Haocheng glanced at him.

Wu De rubbed his hands and lowered his voice. "You previously had us lure the tiger away from the mountain to draw out that old man Venerable Withered Sword. When Baize and I made our move, we indeed felt that old monster rush out. That aura, tsk tsk, it was terrifying."

"How did you lure him away? And how did you shake him off? That is a mighty expert at the fifth level of the Martial Venerable Realm! Even if Brother Jin's speed is unparalleled in the world, it probably wouldn't be so easy to get rid of a powerhouse of that level without a scratch, right?"

In Wu De's view, Ye Haocheng and his group must have used some top-grade concealment talismans or some kind of illusion array capable of briefly confusing a Martial Venerable to have escaped by luck.

After all, the gap between a Martial Saint and a Martial Venerable was like heaven and earth. Being able to escape was already an achievement worth bragging about for a lifetime.

Hearing the question from Wu De, Ye Haocheng, who was drinking tea, paused slightly.

Jin Daoming, who was on the side, sneered, looking at Wu De with an expression that said he was looking at an idiot. "Lure away? Shake off? You fat bastard, is that all your imagination amounts to?"

"Ah?" Wu De was stunned. "Not lured away? Then could it be..."

Ye Haocheng put down his tea cup, his expression calm, as if he were talking about a trivial matter. "Since he came out and was an eyesore, I just conveniently killed him."

"Pfft—!!!"

Baize, who was drinking tea to calm his nerves, sprayed a mouthful of tea directly onto Wu De's face.

But Wu De couldn't care about wiping his face at this moment. His entire body felt as if it had been struck on the crown of his head by a divine thunder from the nine heavens. He was stiff as a stone, his eyes bulging so much they almost fell into his teacup.

"Killed... killed... killed him?!"

The voice of Wu De instantly rose by an octave, becoming sharp and shrill. "You're saying you killed Venerable Withered Sword... that old turtle who has lived for over a thousand years?!"

"Not just him." Jin Daoming added slowly from the side, counting with his fingers. "There was also that Sect Master Zhang Baizong, Prince Chu Lie of the Great Chu Dynasty, the dao protector of the Feather God Dynasty... Oh right, and that bunch of elders from the Sword Burial Mound Sect, probably about fifty Martial Saints."

"Slaughtered them all, didn't leave a single one."

"Right now, over at Mount Ten Thousand Swords, the blood probably hasn't even dried yet."

Boom!

These words, like a heavy bomb, completely shattered the worldview of Wu De and Baize.

The room fell into a deathly silence.

Wu De opened his mouth wide, his jaw almost dislocated. He stared blankly at Ye Haocheng, then at Jin Daoming, whose body was still reeking of blood, his mind a complete blank.

"Exterminated the sect?!"

This was the legendary extermination of a sect?!

And it was the number one sect in the Yue Kingdom, the Sword Burial Mound Sect, which had a Martial Venerable sitting in command?!

This was just too... too brutal!

"Immeasurable... Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable..."

After a long while, Wu De finally trembled and closed his mouth, his legs going weak, and he almost knelt directly on the ground.

He looked at the calm and indifferent face of Ye Haocheng, and only felt a chill rushing from the soles of his feet straight to his forehead.

He had originally thought that Ye Haocheng was just a powerful outsider with a deep background and monstrous talent; although ruthless, he was still within the realm of understanding. But now it seemed, how was this an outsider? This was clearly an ancient ferocious beast wearing human skin!

If he could kill a Martial Venerable just like that, then killing him, a Fat Taoist who only knew how to dig graves, wouldn't it be as simple as pinching a bedbug to death?!

At this moment, the little thoughts Wu De originally had about taking the opportunity to extort, or even wanting to monopolize the sword enlightenment stele, instantly vanished into thin air, leaving not even a trace.

Replacing them was deep awe, and a kind of... inexplicable sense of security.