In such a thunderstorm, Zhong Yasha and Wang Hong, who were trembling in fear under the overwhelming power of lightning, had their gazes frozen, their pupils filled only with that massive bolt of lightning, its branches sprawling and claws bared.
It smashed through the roof, crashing straight down and illuminating the entire hall as bright as daylight, with electric snakes slithering through the air!
Staring at the dazzling silver spectacle of lightning near the steps, Zhong Yasha instinctively took several steps backward, his mind echoing with a single thought:
“External Manifestation! External Manifestation!”
The demonic saber at his waist let out a mournful wail, seemingly wounded at its very core by the pure and righteous power of the lightning.
Yet this cry failed to awaken Zhong Yasha from his stupor. His eyes flickered only with reflections of lightning, and the scene before him seemed straight out of legends of gods and demons!
It wasn’t just him. Bai Bazheng, the Master of Fish Sea, was in the same state. Standing merely a few feet away from Yuan Muzhi, he felt the might of the Celestial Thunder most acutely. Staring at the “ocean” of lightning bolts dancing before him, his hands trembled and he dared not take a single step forward, fearing he might provoke the “External Manifestation expert” into striking him down with lightning.
Even Dumo, who was loyal to Yuan Muzhi, was trembling in body and soul under the thunder’s might, too afraid to attempt a rescue—for rushing forward in such a situation would only mean certain death!
Yuan Muzhi was lifted into the air, entwined by silver-white lightning snakes, crackling continuously. With a bang, he fell to the ground, revealing his current state: his entire body was charred black, his horse-cutting saber shattered into fragments, and nothing on him—neither his belongings nor his skin—remained unscathed.
His hair was still burning, his clothes still ablaze. His eyes were wide open, but no emotion remained within them. A blade wound ran between his eyes straight to his forehead, still crackling with electric snakes, the wound blackened and not a single drop of blood spilled.
Standing before Yuan Muzhi, Meng Qi held the Red Sun Subduing Saber in his right hand, faint ripples of residual lightning swirling around him. In the eyes of Zhong Yasha and others, he appeared impossibly tall and imposing.
“Senior Brother, I knew you’d come to save me!” Zhen Hui joyfully dashed toward Meng Qi.
The bandits guarding him instinctively reached out to grab him, but when they met Meng Qi’s cold, emotionless black eyes, their legs instantly went weak. How could they dare to block him? Yuan Muzhi, with his Nine Apertures cultivation, was already lying there with all his orifices ruptured!
“Let’s go,” Meng Qi said with a smile to Zhen Hui, sheathing the Red Sun Subduing Saber behind his back and returning the Ice Gate Sword to the scabbard at his waist.
He didn’t even glance at Bai Bazheng, Dumo, Zhong Yasha, or the other bandits, as if the entire hall were empty, as if they were mere chickens and dogs of clay, unworthy of his notice.
“Okay!” Zhen Hui nodded vigorously, glancing regretfully at the charred remains of the delicacies struck by lightning.
Meng Qi turned around, his left hand resting on his sword, walking calmly and unhurriedly, with Zhen Hui hurrying to follow, muttering about what had happened since they last met.
They watched them leave as if no one else existed. Neither Bai Bazheng, a master of strategy, nor Dumo, the loyal subordinate, showed any reaction—their expressions revealed nothing but relief. It was better this way, far better, as long as they weren’t dragged into the mess!
Under such heavenly might, even the bravest only spoke of fearlessness in words. Unless absolutely necessary, who would willingly choose a fight that meant certain death?
Zhong Yasha and the others were even worse. Some took steps back, others collapsed into a sitting position, and not a single one dared to look directly at Meng Qi—even though they now clearly recognized him as the young monk wanted on the Evil Saber Hunt. But the matter was, as long as he didn’t come to kill them, it was like receiving the Buddha’s blessing. Who would dare provoke him, provoke his wrath?
The disparity between External Manifestation and Open Enlightenment was what separated mortals from immortals!
From the previous battle, Bai Bazheng had deduced that Meng Qi’s actual strength was only at the Four Apertures level. His External Manifestation-level saber technique, which had grasped the essence of the saber, allowed him to challenge opponents beyond his level, but he was not a true External Manifestation expert. The lightning that struck Yuan Muzhi was likely the effect of some artifact or talisman he carried. However, no one knew whether he still had similar items left or whether that artifact could be reused. It simply wasn’t worth risking their lives for Yuan Muzhi. It would be better to inform Zeluo Ju and let that External Manifestation expert deal with it personally.
Thus, despite being surrounded by bandits of formidable strength, Meng Qi walked away unchallenged, with no one daring to utter a word or even directly gaze at his back.
With a saber and sword crossed on his back and another sword hanging at his waist, his left hand resting on his sword, he strode calmly and gracefully out the door, disappearing into the darkness outside, passing through the gaze of nearly a hundred enemies.
This back view was deeply etched into the minds of Zhong Yasha, Gong Shayue, and other bandits.
After a long while, someone groaned, “Heavenly Wei is indeed terrifying!”
“Never thought he could summon lightning!”
To most of the bandits, whether Meng Qi was truly an External Manifestation expert was unimportant. What mattered was that he had displayed the destructive power of an External Manifestation. After all, no one was willing to gamble on whether he could do it again!
“Xiao Meng, Zhen Ding—those two names are destined to resonate across the vast expanse of the desert!” Zhong Yasha sighed with an odd tone. To slay a Nine-Aperture expert like Yuan Muzhi in a single strike—such a feat might even elude those at the lowest rungs of the Human Rankings.
Of course, there were also freaks like Gu Xiaosang on the Human Rankings, who had killed one eighth-aperture and two ninth-aperture experts with just three attacks.
…
After exiting the City Lord’s Mansion and turning into the shadows outside, Zhen Hui continued chattering on about his adventures in the martial world.
Suddenly, he noticed his senior brother’s body sway, his entire frame weakening, nearly collapsing to the ground.
“Senior brother, what’s wrong with you?” Zhen Hui asked anxiously.
Meng Qi managed a faint smile: “Just a bit drained.”
That damned Lord of the Six Dao Reincarnation had only mentioned that the Thunder Mark could summon heavenly lightning three times during thunderstorms, but had completely omitted how much energy it would consume!
After unleashing his full-strength technique “Severing Purity,” he had originally retained enough strength for ordinary combat. But now, aside from walking, he had no energy left at all.
Yet in that earlier situation, surrounded by wolves, any sign of weakness would have led to immediate slaughter and looting.
Thus, Meng Qi had no choice but to press on, relying on his past experiences of posing as a top-tier expert. He disregarded everyone around him, departing with poise and dignity while capitalizing on the residual awe left by the lightning to successfully deter them all.
If he still had the strength to fight, Meng Qi’s lively nature would never have allowed him to act so reservedly. Instead, he would have pointed his long saber at the bandits and declared, “I settle my grudges immediately!” or “You lot are mere chickens and dogs of clay—killing you would only soil my precious blade!” or “Who dares step forward for battle?”
But since he had already exhausted himself, he couldn’t provoke them anymore. If some reckless fool charged at him, the joke would go too far!
Zhen Hui swiftly steadied his senior brother. Following Meng Qi’s instructions, he promptly retrieved a Soul-Replenishing Pill for the Wronged, administered it to Meng Qi, and then, supporting him, utilized the lightness skill inherent in the Lotus-Plucking Finger to hasten toward Old Cao’s Inn.
As the pill was swallowed, Meng Qi seemed to hear cries and wails echoing in his ears. He steadied his spirit, employing meditation techniques to ignore them. Gradually, he felt something transform into streams of warm energy, flowing into his body and soul.
At this moment, the rain poured heavily, thunder rolled across the sky, and there were few pedestrians on the streets. The two reached Old Cao’s Inn shortly. Thanks to the pill’s effects, Meng Qi had regained some energy and, once again with his left hand resting on his sword, strode into the inn with elegance and composure, heading toward the Wine Beggar.
He couldn’t reveal how little strength he had left, or else the Wine Beggar might get some sinister ideas.
After witnessing that massive bolt of lightning strike the City Lord’s Mansion, Gu Changqing immediately turned back to Old Cao’s Inn. Whether it was Meng Qi’s secret or the help of an External Manifestation expert, he was certain that Zhen Hui would be rescued.
With such firm confidence, he waited a while before seeing Meng Qi walk in casually, his hand resting on his sword. Gu Changqing secretly praised him inwardly—Xiao Meng truly had an impressive bearing and presence!
“Let’s go, leave the city,” Meng Qi said, unwilling to delay, lest someone regain their senses.
The Wine Beggar belched, staggering to his feet: “Follow me to the back to change clothes.”
After changing into local tribal attire that concealed their swords and sabers, the Wine Beggar led the three toward the nearest city gate.
As they approached the city wall, Meng Qi warily gripped his sword hilt—he had regained a bit of his combat ability.
The guards at the gate didn’t ask a single question, silently opening the gate and watching the four leave—the city of Fish Sea was small, so opening the gate wasn’t particularly troublesome.
Once outside the city, Meng Qi gained more confidence in the Wine Beggar’s capabilities. He followed him to the lakeside, where a small boat was waiting.
“Once aboard the boat, ask no questions. You will be taken to the other shore, which is only a day’s journey from Ganshan. Once there, the terrain becomes complex, and no one will be able to find you,” the Wine Beggar said solemnly, uncharacteristically serious.
He meant that within such a tight timeframe, no one would be able to locate them. After all, in just six or seven days at most, the Shaolin reinforcements would arrive. By then, who would dare take the risk of pursuing a true inheritor of Shaolin?
“How about paying now for the remaining amount?” Meng Qi asked casually, maintaining his composed demeanor.
The Wine Beggar shook his head: “Pay the boatman upon reaching the other shore. You won’t dare to run out on the bill—anyone who tried before now resides at the bottom of Fish Sea.”
After silently guessing at the strength of the force behind the Wine Beggar, Meng Qi said nothing further and boarded the boat with Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui.
The boatman wore a bamboo hat, seemingly from the Central Plains, his skin dark, silent and reserved, steadily rowing the boat from the rear.
Meng Qi closed his eyes to meditate, striving to recover his strength, while Gu Changqing and Zhen Hui wisely kept silent, adjusting their own conditions.
Suddenly, a mist arose. Meng Qi immediately drew his sword, assuming a defensive posture, vigilantly watching ahead.
“There’s no need to worry—I mean no harm,” a voice, as if from a dream, floated through the air. A figure in feathered robes and a tall crown appeared before Meng Qi, his features blurred and indistinct.
“What do you want?” Meng Qi asked softly, noticing that Zhen Hui and Gu Changqing beside him seemed to be asleep.
The figure in the feathered robes smiled: “We believe you have potential and would like to recruit you as a candidate for our organization.”
“A candidate? What organization?” Meng Qi frowned.
“You must first agree and swear an oath upon your Yuan Shen before I can tell you,” the figure replied calmly.
“Hmph, do you really think I’d agree like this?” Meng Qi replied with a mocking smile.
The feathered-robed figure chuckled: “Our organization has vast power and sufficient resources to support your growth into an External Manifestation expert. Won’t you think carefully about this opportunity?”
Meng Qi sneered inwardly, thinking, “This isn’t how pyramid schemes work!” but kept silent.
Sighing, the feathered-robed figure said, “Fine, I know you can’t make a decision so quickly. I’ll leave behind a talisman. If you change your mind later, burn it, and someone will come to find you.”
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