Chapter 93: Vengeance

Zhao Fenglei was momentarily stunned, hardly believing his own ears. Within the Zhao Clan, although his talent was not as impressive as that of Lord Cheng’en’s fourth young master or Zhao Yuying, he remained outstanding amongst others. Born the legitimate grandson of Lord Yan’guo, when had he ever received such harsh words?

Finally regaining his senses after what seemed an eternity, his face quickly flushed crimson with anger. “Come again? What did you just say?! Repeat it!” he shouted.

Qian Ye spoke distinctly and clearly,一字一句地, saying, “I told you—get the hell out!”

Enraged beyond bearing, Fenglei unrestrainedly unleashed his aura, letting rip with surging power on both sides, forming spiral maelstroms around his body. With furious outcry, he cried, “You’re begging for death!”

Completely undeterred by Zhao Fenglei’s outburst, Qian Ye directed his attention solely toward Earl Yuyang with a cold expression asking, “Do you intend to settle this inside or outside?”

With that manner and tone, Qian Ye was clearly treating Zhao Fenglei with utmost insolent. Enraged beyond endurance, Fenglei could no longer contain himself—his aura, like an emerald flare shimmering around him as he was ready about to strike. Yet, no sooner had he prepared to move than Earl Yuyang reached forth with one hand upon his shoulder, immobilizing him forcefully in place.

At the same time, Zhao Yuying staggered up and blocked the confrontation. Then with his voice, “Let’s call it good, Uncle Senior Sixth. Rest assured—today, let’s stop. I wish to retire. We’ll continue two days from now.”

Nodding solemnly, the Earl concurred: “Indeed.”

As she spoke, Zhao Yuying stepped toward Qian Ye, placing a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Her tone softened, “Stay, Qian Ye, for words must still be spoken between us.”

The fiery stare in Zhao Fenglei’s gaze could not conceal his outrage as he grit: “Don’t think fool me! Do you suppose no one knows your ambitions on courting Yuying? If you’ve spine, stop using techniques of the Zhao household again, perish practicing only ‘Bin Fa jue’ for now on, you wretch!”

Qian Ye returned Zhao Fenglei’s gaze coldly and impassively, except that his pupils briefly reflected fleeting azure flickers.

Frowning, Earl Yuyang advised sharply: “Enough, Fenglei. No more words—come along.”

As soon as Earl Yuyang, with his entourage, departed the scene, Zhao Yuying’s strength completely ebbed—her body giving way, instinctively leaning against Qian Ye’s solid bulk. Remaining in control, softly but steadied, she managed, “Help me patch my wound. Girl’s strength’s all dried… cannot hold on no more.”

Slightly narrowing his eyebrows, Qian Ye made up his mind and lifted Zhao Yuying effortlessly onto his arms. Then walking into the bedroom inside, he carefully laid her down.

After removing her upper garment, she leaned down onto the bed as Qian Ye examined the injuries. The injury on her back near the ribside was no more a three-finger width in size, and smooth was the cut surface—seeming negligible at first. As the examination progressed further, an ever clearer picture unfolded: Though its small size suggested slight harm, indeed it bore deadly depth nearly breaching right through the body completely. Worse of all was an insidiously alien aura that clung maliciously upon the wound—impeding the natural healing, ceaselessly corrupting even deeper inward the internal organs.

Externally appearing composed still, yet inside her very life essence and vitality had fallen into utter disarray. Given her mightiness and power level, this injury may have been avoidable in taking her lifeforce entirely—it would cost her at least a month for recovery. Worse again, she wouldn’t be able to exert her full strength within several months.

After fully grasping the dire state, calmed Qian Ye regained composure. He then re-questioned about how it came into being again as she had originally recounted—an unannounced sneak attack from Nangong Xiaofeng caught unguarded her initially due to the advantage in skill of Nangong. A fatal blow struck hard onto her vitals.

When faced with that mortal peril, instead of pulling away immediately to flee danger—her choice remained defiant. She fired one heavy, treasured cannon-shell that she had long saved up; with but a single shot, her adversary’s protective armor shattered in a deafening explosion; his body also left grievously torn apart by that return vengeance.

“Understood,” Qian Ye answered calmly and started dealing with Zhao Yuying’s injury forthwith.

Qian Ye’s Aurora aura, rare and pure indeed—was highly effective on wound purification. Within but moments, he removed and neutralized most residual malicious aura from the wound—gleaning traces of its owner, the very aura signature Nangong Xiaoxue once radiating upon her body. Whatever fragments might remain inside deeper bodily chambers could finally only rest under her own long-time recuperative efforts.

Tireless work completed, Zhao Yuying’s very breath weakened, though visibly her face regained healthier tints of color, not pale anymore.

Then finally free momentarily to attend conversation, her words broke gently, inquiring more about Nangong Xiaoxue’s earlier meeting with Earl Yuyang—she spoke: “Qian Ye—sixth Elder is as cautious as ever. Every situation carefully calculated in his eyes often means opportunity in disguise. If you’re harmed by Xiaoxue, that perhaps shall become catalyst. The clan may demand heavy recompense from Nan’gu or even press its authority compelling subjugation to our supremacy. At worse? Force payment—enough to satisfy more than just this incident alone.”

Sat aside the bed still, calmly responding: “I grew amidst country folk. I know nothing of the intricate political web of highborn families. But this I promise: having injured you—no wealth would ever erase its consequence.”

“Stay calm, Qian Ye. Nan’gus? You can never oppose their might! At least for now—it shall pose no threat so long as I remain close beside.” As she spoke, Zhao Yuying felt Qian Ye pulling the woolen blanket to wrap around herself snugly with a tenderness unexpected. Under gentle warmth, her body—exhausted beyond its capacity—at last began relaxing entirely. Within peaceful embrace finally arose heavy sleepiness. Her consciousness slipped gradually into peaceful unconsciousness.

Unknown for exactly how much passage of Time, yet she was suddenly woke startled into wakefulness with utter blackness beyond her window. The chamber itself was now void—bereft of the man she knew was always by.

Sudden panic overtook her without logic and she quickly ignored her weak limbs; she dressed in urgency and burst toward exterior corridors. Two shadowflames clad soldiers—perfect sentry positions, rigid and watchful.

“Where is Qian Ye now?!” Zhao Yuying exclaimed abruptly.

“He’s long gone, but bid us guard the perimeter closely and securely,” one answered promptly.

The words barely concluded when Yuying had long fled past earshot again. She searched all night seeking answers wherever she could go—eventually, receiving confirmation from Song Hu: “Master Ye has already departed town by sky-liner. No clue left of his direction.”

He embarked upon the sky ship brought by Nangong Xiaoque—it bore speed several multiples above conventional ships. By now—she was too late to consider further tracking pursuit.

For prolonged moments Yuying only could stand in silent shock before she finally walked dazed past corridors toward her quarters, took out a bottle of alcohol, and drank slowly as an array of deep emotions brewed and tangled deep in heart unknown, indistinct.

Meanwhile Qian Ye stood motionless atop cragstone pinnacle, gazing coldly down at base below—a sprawling country manor estate sprawled wide with its self-contained Eternal Dynamo tower, a town unto its very own nature in miniature size.

Gazing down quietly, Qian mused mentally: “At last, that rotund Zhou boy served some actual purpose finally.”

The intelligence on this compound wasn’t especially hard, though still difficult for anyone spontaneous. Yet, as Qian requested base specifications for Nan’gu’s stronghold—fat Zhou wasted no breath in immediately providing accurate records even with additional analysis; no hesitation nor surplus inquiry—proof he’d fully already prepared his homework.

Amongst various other regional strongholds across Shadowed Continent—here in San’he郡 lay their greatest fortress estate besides Nan’gu’s other two to three largest ones similarly secured. With Nangong Xiaofeng recently gravely wounded—he would very likely retreat right to this very place.

From his satchel, he drew twin-barreled handguns named Huā-Dì and methodic precision embedded dual Black Titan antimatter grenade rounds inside chamber by individual hands; slung back onto hip holster. Upon shoulders followed Yuedong blade pulled forth from Andoya’s mysterious arcane dimension—shoulded firmly. And so began silent steps descending down upon targeted premises as determined path.

Shadow Barrier wasn’t extended toward here, not yet. But nearing was not far away. He observed tight defenses from afar. Guards were posted along compound boundary and patrols crisscross regularly. Furthermore, outside walls were accompanied not solely with patrolling but also fierce flocks of trained dogs—fortifications so tight not slightest gap was left unsealed.

A routine security patrol proceeded steadily along mansion outskirts, guided in darkness below by pale yellow aura glows from soldiers’ personal lanterns casting trembling shadows through chill winds—sending chills through men who complained loudly: “Would someone remind me of exactly why we’re freezing our hind parts off in some remote outpost?!”

“The cold could’ve been fine! But who arranged this cursed cloud cover hiding sunshine daily? When will dawn return?” complained one.

The lead figure wearing heavy facial stubble simply grunted. “Quiet already! Who among us would prefer to be stationed in this God-forsaken Shadow Continent willingly anyway! Lucky for us not yet touched by dreadful Iron Curtain! Things could’ve been truly worse had we faced something that terrible!”

Another patrol curiously whispered. “What exactly is this ‘Iron Wall’? Why do people all look so terrified about a rumor only?”

The whisperer checked all directions cautiously to confirm no eavesdropped ears before he spoke softly to companions, “None exaggerating here. We’re not joking when I say it’s real this time. You all probably don’t know, today Nangong adult returned from an engagement—badly beaten to half-deaths! Word got passed around he barely escaped something called Iron Fence! Think again—Lord Xangxun, the genius we all serve? If not him, even his superior strength couldn’t withstand that cursed Curtain, imagine us ordinary soldiers!”

Everyone in that small team of outer-clan warriors had been newly transferred from upper continent recently and had for never before been introduced to those facts—they turned pale immediately at his chilling words.

Just then someone asked suddenly—his tone unusually bold. “You’re say Master Xai Feng… is in? Already gone inside?”

“Master Nangong is resting still—he still requires medical…” The responder automatically answered, his sentence suddenly interrupted with an exclamation. “Who are you again?! We didn’t see you arrive!”

They all spun on heels, only realizing now one figure in their ranks remained unknown—an unobserved shadow standing silently behind them all until spoken directly into. Stabbing fear coursed immediately with their recognition of intruder’s identity.

None drew swords. No one had the chance—just an instant later, Qian Ye made no motion at drawing his Yuedong sword either way. A single wide-armed sweeping gesture launched waves beyond words—crashing raw torrent of primal essence forward. Like the tide crashing upon shore, their five armored silhouettes slammed backward—midst a crimson spray in air—then slumped immobile lifelessly against cobble.

Through earlier conversation, Qian Ye understood fully already—their loyalty from core bloodline generations serving Nan’gu’s elite private force, despite any unflattering assignments given in remote outposts; these were not mercenaries they might desert in panic if danger struck but rather staunch die-hards willing to go down fighting. That is perhaps precisely why Qian refrained from the lightest restraint—leaving behind none living among the squad.

Snarling, canine hounds sensed something and raced forward from distant outposts toward disturbance. Before they might bark furiously toward intruder’s direction—an imperceptible shift occurred: one cold sideways glance from Qian unleashed invisible blood pressure surging aura in vicinity. Canines froze—hissing and writhing in helpless terror on earth floor, legs trembled beneath before each dropped into whimering heaps.

Without stealth now, without care, his actions announced openly. With explosive leap and agile grace, Qian soared high past walls. He bolted without caution directly at the command core. No silence—just thunderous call breaking into deadly still night air from his throat, declaring challenge: “Xiaofeng Nangong—show self coward or not? Do you dare step boldly into open?!”

Within moments the entire property erupted into panic—the mansion’s occupants spilled chaotically from chambers seeking understanding—asking who had the sheer audacity to dare challenge their clan’s mighty prestige so boldly?

Within a quieter two-tier manor stood stillness until a nonchalant voice echoed: “Huh—looks like some raving lunatic arrived. Not even of General rank yet, this fool must be desperate to commit suicide so desperately. I had such pretty lady in my grasp and this interruption’s pissing on it! But alright! I shall beat him until blood drenched for interrupting!”

As said, an apparition-like shadow expelled through a second-floor window; it flowed like ghostly smoke riding wind currents upward gracefully and landed atop of high, sloppily tiled ridge roof—its supernatural movement and posture spoke volumes on identity. This was clearly one well-trained for lethal stealth assassinations.

Without bothering any reply, Qian Ye in mere second produced one canvas backpack suddenly from under cloak—a swift fling towards Nangong figure atop height—its content spilling mid-arc across multiple angles—each releasing shadowy oval forms, landing grim familiarity upon experienced eyes of warrior veterans—dozen dark objects raining down were no mere tools but pure destruction incarnate known universally: aura grenades!

Cursing bitterly within, “Are you kidding me!?”—Xiaofeng’s eyes widened with sudden realization! He took a brief look—recognizing distinct bloody markings typical of noble lineage of blood aristocrats; he was not just another rogue tosser—they were authentic warheads with precision! While all launched simultaneously, every singular explosive carried unique arming degrees carefully modulating timing, trajectories arranged with calculated intersecting angles. Even someone experienced enough as his very being couldn’t discern any possible path through safely nor attempted interception, let alone attempting shielding or resistance against cascading impact from such lethal storm barrage. Without thinking further, he dove for cover with utmost urgency screaming only one name inside mind: Survival.