508: From this day forward, you are no longer a slave.

Patriarch Murong Yuan turned into a streak of golden light and charged straight at Zhao Lie, Sun Tao, and Lin Yue. The Golden Spirit Divine Sword, carrying flames that could burn the soul, slashed toward Sun Tao.

Sun Tao's expression changed drastically. He tried to activate a Poison Formation for defense, but his spiritual power was instantly incinerated by the flames. The divine sword pierced through his chest, pinning him to the city wall.

"You..." Sun Tao's eyes were filled with resentment as his body gradually turned to ash.

Seeing this, Lin Yue let out a roar and threw a Mountain-Splitting Punch. The punch was powerful and fierce, but Patriarch Murong Yuan dodged it by stepping aside.

Patriarch Murong Yuan countered with a sword strike, severing Lin Yue's arms. Golden flames spread along the wounds. Lin Yue let out a shrill scream and was eventually charred to a crisp in the flames.

In an instant, two Family heads had perished. Zhao Lie was both shocked and enraged, his blood-colored Evil Qi surging frantically: "Patriarch Murong Yuan, you're insane!"

He knew the price of burning one's Divine Soul; even if he won, death was certain.

"It's you who are insane!" Patriarch Murong Yuan's eyes held only determination. He slashed out with the divine sword again, clashing with Zhao Lie's blood-colored palm print.

Golden flames and blood-colored Evil Qi intertwined, erupting in a world-shaking roar. The entire city wall trembled, and the Defensive Runes shattered completely.

The two fought fiercely for dozens of rounds. Patriarch Murong Yuan's aura gradually weakened as the price of burning his Divine Soul began to manifest. His skin started to crack, and golden blood continuously seeped out. Yet, he still gritted his teeth, putting all his strength into every strike, each move being lethal.

Zhao Lie was not faring well either. A deep wound that revealed the bone was slashed across his chest by the divine sword. His blood-colored Evil Qi was in disarray, and his aura was flagging.

He hadn't expected Patriarch Murong Yuan to be so formidable after burning his Divine Soul.

"Die for me!" Zhao Lie put forth his last bit of strength. The blood-colored palm print condensed all the Evil Qi in his body and slammed heavily into Patriarch Murong Yuan's chest.

Patriarch Murong Yuan spat out a large mouthful of golden blood. His body flew back like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily onto the city wall. The Nascent Soul illusion gradually dissipated.

He struggled to lift his head and looked at Zhao Lie, a mocking smile curling at the corners of his mouth: "You... won't survive tonight either!!"

After saying that, his head slumped to the side, and his breath ceased completely.

Zhao Lie clutched the wound on his chest and coughed violently, but a triumphant smile appeared on his face.

With Sun Tao and Lin Yue dead, the Zhao Family could monopolize the Cangwu Mountain Spiritual Vein. This was exactly his plan.

"Patriarch Murong Yuan, thank you for helping me get rid of two major thorns in my side."

He turned to look down from the wall; Cangwu City had already turned into a living Hell.

The Zhao Family Cultivators were like demons, launching a frenzied massacre against the Murong Family Cultivators and slaves.

On the once-prosperous streets, corpses were piled like mountains, and blood merged into streams, flowing along the bluestone paths. The air was thick with the heavy scent of blood, and even the Spiritual Grain in the Spiritual Fields was dyed red.

Not one of the hundreds of thousands of slaves surrendered. Uncle Fu's corpse was hung on the city gate, Green Grain's corpse was trampled by the chaotic soldiers, and countless slaves fought back with farming tools, but it was like striking a rock with an egg, as they fell one by one in pools of blood.

They used their lives to fulfill the oath of "living and dying with the Murong Family," but in the end, they couldn't stop the butcher's knife.

Zhao Lie watched all this with no pity in his eyes, only greed.

Heavily injured and unable to personally hunt down Murong Xuan, he summoned his grandson—the Zhao Family Genius, Zhao Hao.

Zhao Hao was only twenty years old but already had a Late Golden Core Stage cultivation. He was exceptionally gifted and was the future hope of the Zhao Family.

"Hao'er, take two Elders and over a hundred Cultivators to hunt down Murong Xuan!" Zhao Lie's voice carried an unquestionable authority. "We must pull up the weeds by the roots. Be sure to capture and kill him, and retrieve the Murong Family Head Seal and the Golden Spirit Art!"

"Yes, Grandfather!" A bloodthirsty light flashed in Zhao Hao's eyes. He had long wanted to make a name for himself. He immediately led two Nascent Soul Early Stage Elders and over a hundred Golden Core Cultivators, chasing after the direction of the secret passage exit.

At the end of the secret passage, Murong Xuan and A Gu had just rushed out of Cangwu Mountain when the sounds of Cultivators in pursuit came from behind.

Murong Xuan looked back at the burning Cangwu City, and tears welled up again.

He could see his father's cold corpse on the city wall, the remains of his clansmen and slaves piled below, and hear the screams and cries coming from afar.

This blood-feud was etched into his very marrow like a brand.

A Gu tightly gripped his Refined Iron Blade. He glanced back at the pursuing Cultivators, then at the grief-stricken Murong Xuan beside him, and quickened his pace: "Young Master, let's go! We must survive. Only by surviving will we have a chance for revenge!"

On the secret forest paths of Cangwu Mountain, withered leaves were crushed to pieces by their hurried footsteps. The sounds of the pursuing Cultivators behind them were like maggots on a bone, getting closer and closer.

Murong Xuan's clothes were stained with blood, and his Golden Core spiritual power was already in disarray.

A Gu was also covered in wounds. His coarse cloth clothes were full of tears, and a deep sword wound on his arm was still seeping blood. Yet, he still clutched his Refined Iron Blade tightly, never stopping his pace, always protecting Murong Xuan's side.

"Young Master, further ahead is the Mass Grave on the outskirts of Black Wind Ridge. The trees there are dense and the vines are tangled; we might be able to lose the pursuers." A Gu lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of urgency.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Murong Xuan's face was as pale as paper and his aura was becoming increasingly flagging, making him feel extremely anxious.

Murong Xuan shook his head, his pace gradually slowing, eventually stopping under a thousand-year-old Ancient Locust Tree.

This Ancient Locust Tree had lush foliage, its thick trunk requiring two people to encircle it. The tree body was covered in furrows, and a hollow at the base formed a hidden tree hole, concealed by thick vines and fallen leaves, making it impossible to notice without careful inspection.

"A Gu, we can't run anymore." Murong Xuan's voice was frighteningly calm, without a hint of panic, only a resolution that had seen through life and death.

He raised his hand and pressed it on A Gu's shoulder, his gaze falling on the pale gold Slave Mark on the back of his neck. A hint of guilt and pity flashed in the depths of his eyes.

This mark had witnessed A Gu's ten-plus years of slavery and the friendship between the two since childhood.

A Gu's heart tightened, and he shook his head vigorously: "What nonsense are you talking about, Young Master! Let's hold on a bit longer. Once we enter the Mass Grave, we can definitely lose them by using the terrain! When the time comes, I'll hold them off, and you just run as hard as you can!"

"It's no use. At most, you're only at the Third Level of Qi Refining. Zhao Hao brought two Nascent Soul Elders and over a hundred Golden Core Cultivators. You won't be able to block them for even a second! Moreover, even if we luckily hide, they will conduct a carpet search and find us sooner or later." He paused, took out the golden Family Head Seal engraved with the word "Murong" from his robes, and handed the blue-covered Golden Spirit Art to A Gu. "Take these two things."

A Gu subconsciously took a step back: "Young Master, this is the Murong Family Head Seal and the core Cultivation Technique. How can I take them!" He was just a slave; he wasn't worthy of touching them.

"From today on, you are no longer a slave." Murong Xuan's tone was unquestionable. He raised his hand to condense his remaining Golden Core spiritual power, a faint golden glow appearing at his fingertips, which slowly landed on the back of A Gu's neck.

The pale gold Slave Mark that had accompanied A Gu for over ten years began to heat up slightly under the envelopment of spiritual power. It gradually faded and dissipated like melting snow, finally disappearing completely.

A wave of warm comfort came from his neck. A Gu felt his whole body lighten, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted. The shackles of slavery that had entertwined half his life were finally shattered at this moment.

"Young Master???" A Gu stood there in a daze.

"Take them, use my identity, and head to the Northern Ice Fields to seek refuge with my Aunt, Murong Xue." Murong Xuan forced the Family Head Seal and the Golden Spirit Art into A Gu's hands, tightly gripping his wrist, his eyes burning and earnest. "A Gu, listen to me. The Murong Family's Legacy cannot be broken. My father sacrificed himself for the Family, and the clansmen and slaves sacrificed themselves for Cangwu City. I cannot let their efforts go to waste. You must live on with this Legacy, Cultivate the Golden Spirit Art well, and one day in the future, rebuild the Murong Family and avenge everyone who died!"

"I don't agree!" A Gu snapped his hand back, tears streaming down his face. "If we leave, we leave together! I'd rather die here than escape alone with these things! Young Master, you are the direct son of the Murong Family, you are the hope of the Murong Family, nothing can happen to you!" As he spoke, he tried to pull Murong Xuan to continue running, but he was held firmly by the shoulders by Murong Xuan.