150: Chapter 149 Ye Chen Returns

Ye Chen. He has broken through to the Nascent Soul Stage.

Ye Chen looked at the scene before him, his face filled with shock.

He recognized the Old Ancestor; he was the Sect Master of the Qingxuan Sect. He had met him once, and in his memory, the old man was always calm, composed, and unhurried. But now, the Old Ancestor was covered in blood, his left arm was severed, his right leg was crippled, and there was hardly a patch of intact flesh on his body. He looked around—desolate mountains and wilderness, bloodstains everywhere, and in the distance, black smoke rose faintly from the direction of the Qingxuan Sect.

“Old Ancestor?” Ye Chen's voice trembled slightly. “What... what happened?”

The Old Ancestor looked at him and suddenly smiled. In that smile, there was relief, gratitude, and something else that was hard to define. He didn't answer Ye Chen's question, only whispering, “Leave first. This is not the time to talk.”

Ye Chen was stunned for a moment, then nodded. Although he was full of questions, he could see that the Old Ancestor wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. He turned his gaze toward the middle-aged man, the killing intent in his eyes surging.

The middle-aged man also recognized Ye Chen. A newly advanced Early Nascent Soul Stage cultivator wouldn't normally be someone he'd care about. However, he was currently heavily injured and his strength was greatly diminished. And while that old geezer was close to death, he was still in the Nascent Soul Stage; if he fought for his life, he would be difficult to deal with.

Ye Chen gave him no time to think. He brandished his longsword, and the sword light flashed like a rainbow, striking directly at the middle-aged man's face! The middle-aged man dodged to the side, waving a bloody light to block. The two fought, sword light and blood light intertwining, exploding in circles of shockwaves.

The middle-aged man grew more alarmed as the fight progressed. This young man's sword techniques were incredibly sharp, every strike carrying an indomitable killing intent. Already suffering from unhealed injuries, he was being suppressed by Ye Chen and could barely manage to parry the blows.

The Old Ancestor moved as well. Summoning his last bit of strength, he struck out with a palm. Though the palm wind was weak, it landed exactly on the middle-aged man's opening. The middle-aged man's figure faltered, and Ye Chen's sword light took the Opportunity to slash down, leaving a deep, bone-deep wound on his chest.

The middle-aged man let out a miserable scream and flew backward. He looked down at the wound on his chest and then at the two people before him, fear flashing in his eyes.

Ye Chen raised his sword to pursue, but the Old Ancestor stopped him: “Don't chase.”

Ye Chen stopped and looked at him in confusion. The Old Ancestor shook his head: “He has a trump card. If you chase him and he fights for his life, you won't come out ahead either.”

As expected, the middle-aged man pulled out a black Jade Slip from his robe and crushed it. A cloud of black mist enveloped him, and his figure began to blur. He glared fiercely at the two of them, his voice filled with venom: “I will remember this debt.”

The black mist dissipated, and the middle-aged man's figure vanished.

Ye Chen sheathed his sword and turned to the Old Ancestor. The Old Ancestor could no longer stand; he leaned against a large nearby rock, gasping for breath, with blood foam spilling from the corners of his mouth with every gasp.

“Old Ancestor—” Ye Chen stepped forward to support him.

The Old Ancestor waved his hand, signaling he was fine. He pointed to the east: “Go. Catch up with them.”

Ye Chen nodded and supported the Old Ancestor as they headed east. They hadn't flown far before they saw the Disciples of the Qingxuan Sect. They weren't moving fast; there were too many wounded, and they couldn't pick up speed. Fu Qingyun was at the very back, broken sword in hand, watching their rear alertly. Seeing the Old Ancestor and Ye Chen catch up, he was first stunned, and then his eyes turned red.

“Old Ancestor!” He rushed forward. “Are you alright?”

The Old Ancestor shook his head: “I'm fine. Keep moving.”

Fu Qingyun looked at Ye Chen; the two exchanged a glance but said nothing. Ye Chen summoned a flying boat from his Storage Pouch. The flying boat was entirely green, about ten zhang long and three zhang wide, its hull covered in formation patterns that emitted a faint spiritual light. Although it couldn't compare to the fourth-grade warship of the Shenduan Sect, its grade was not low, at least a Third-grade High Grade vessel.

“I found this in a ruin during my travels,” Ye Chen explained briefly. “Get on, everyone get on.”

The Disciples filed in. The wounded went first, followed by the Foundation Establishment and Qi Condensation Disciples, and finally the Golden Core True Persons. The interior of the flying boat was much more spacious than it appeared. Fu Qingyun was the last to board; standing at the cabin door, he looked back toward the west. That was the direction of the Qingxuan Sect, but nothing could be seen through the morning mist.

“Go,” the Old Ancestor's voice came from inside the cabin.

Fu Qingyun turned and entered the cabin.

The flying boat started up. The formation patterns lit up, spiritual light flowed, and the entire ship shuddered slightly before shooting toward the east like an arrow leaving a bow. It was extremely fast, leaving the desolate mountains and wilderness behind in the blink of an eye.

The cabin was very quiet. No one spoke. The wounded lay in corners, some groaning, some already unconscious. Several Disciples from the Alchemy Hall were treating their wounds, their movements very light, as if afraid of disturbing something. Fu Qingyun sat leaning against the cabin wall with his eyes closed, unknown if he was asleep or thinking. Han Song sat beside him, clutching that iron rod, motionless. Liu Ruyan leaned close to Fu Qingyun, her eyes red, but she didn't cry.

Fu Qingyun stood by the cabin door, watching the clouds rapidly recede outside the window. His severed arm was still throbbing with pain, but he couldn't worry about that. He kept thinking about Yun Ming. That young man had stayed behind to face two Nascent Soul cultivators alone. He didn't dare think about how Yun Ming was now, didn't dare think about whether he was still alive, and didn't dare think about how he would escape from those two Nascent Soul cultivators if he were.

Ye Chen sat beside the Old Ancestor, looking at his pale face and numerous wounds. After a long silence, he finally spoke: “Old Ancestor, what exactly happened?”

The Old Ancestor leaned against the cabin wall, eyes closed, his voice weak: “The Heavenly Demon Hall... produced a Soul Transformation expert. They want to expand their territory. The Danding Sect... has already been destroyed. The Qingxuan Sect... is also gone.”

Ye Chen's pupils constricted. He had only been away traveling for a few years, and such a major event had happened to the Sect. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask more, but seeing the Old Ancestor's weak state, he swallowed his words.

The Old Ancestor suddenly opened his eyes and looked at him: “You've broken through to the Nascent Soul Stage?”

Ye Chen nodded: “I found an Opportunity in a ruin and managed to break through by luck.”

The Old Ancestor smiled, a very light smile, as if talking to himself: “Good, good. The Qingxuan Sect... still has a Nascent Soul.”

He closed his eyes and spoke no more. Silence returned to the cabin.

The flying boat was very fast. The clouds outside the window receded rapidly, the morning mist had long since dissipated, and the sun rose, dyeing the entire sky golden. To the east lay the direction of the Shenduan Sect. There were reinforcements there, hope, and a way to survive.

But no one was happy. They had lost the Qingxuan Sect, lost an eight-hundred-year foundation, and lost those fellow Disciples who had died. Fu Qingyun stood by the window, gazing at the golden sky outside, suddenly thinking of Yun Ming. That young man had joined the Qingxuan Sect only six years ago; he usually seemed lazy, performing Alchemy, cultivating, and eating with his mother. He thought he would always be that lazy, thought he would live a stable life in this Sect forever.

But in the end, it was he who stayed behind.

Ye Chen sat beside the Old Ancestor, looking out the window, his heart full of questions. But he knew now was not the time to ask. Once they reached the Shenduan Sect and everyone was safe, it wouldn't be too late to ask.

The flying boat continued east. Behind them, the Qingxuan Sect grew further away, and those ruins grew further away as well.