Chapter 34: The Banquet of Death

Chen Yu raised his hand without even glancing over. Bang! In an instant, those men were sent flying as though struck head-on by a speeding truck, hurtling twenty or thirty meters before slamming heavily into the ground. Their bones shattered in an instant; they were dead before they landed.

For a moment, everyone was stunned.

Gao Er’s face contorted with disbelief and shock as he stared at Chen Yu. “A Grandmaster!” As a mercenary who had long danced on the blade’s edge, Gao Er naturally understood what the title meant in martial arts.

Among the other bodyguards, there were a few low-level martial artists as well. They froze on the spot, their faces etched with astonishment and awe. Grandmasters were not people they could afford to provoke. Now, their gazes toward Chen Yu were tinged with reverence.

Some of the bodyguards who were former special forces clung to their faith in firearms. Without hesitation, they drew their guns from their waists and fired at Chen Yu.

Chen Yu’s eyes narrowed. “Courting death.”

He raised his hand again.

Bang, bang, bang—

Dozens of gunshots shattered the tranquility of the manor.

A chill of unease crept into Gao Er’s heart. As expected, his eyes widened in horror.

The bodyguards who had fired their weapons found their guns slipping from their hands to the ground, utterly oblivious, each one frozen in place like a statue.

With a wave of his hand, Chen Yu had already gathered every bullet fired at him into his palm. Modern firearms no longer posed the slightest threat to him, not to mention the techniques of the Azure Serpent King at his disposal.

A cold gleam flashed in his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, the bullets shot back like cannonballs.

Screams erupted. Several corpses now lay strewn about—the very men who had fired their guns.

Gao Er sucked in a sharp breath. He now realized that the man before him was even more terrifying than a Grandmaster.

The rest, faces twisted in fear and horror, fell to their knees, trembling uncontrollably.

Gao Er was no fool. This level of existence was beyond anything he could contend with. He knelt, yielding the path.

Chen Yu cast them a cold glance. He had never considered these men worthy of his time, and so, he saw no reason to waste more effort.

Meanwhile, upon hearing the gunshots, Zuo Qianhui’s heart leapt in alarm. Then, suspecting that perhaps Chen Yu had come to rescue her, anxiety returned.

“Brother Yu, you mustn’t come to harm!” She was finally able to move about the room but could not step beyond its threshold. All she could do was pray in silence.

In the grand hall of the main building, Zhang Kangcheng was pacing anxiously, like an ant on a hot griddle. “Mr. Mo, someone has really broken in! Do you think it’s Qin Guo, or someone else?”

“Why panic? Didn’t you hear the gunfire? Perhaps the intruder’s already been shot dead in the chaos.” Mo Chengkong sipped his tea with feigned calm, but a vague sense of unease gnawed at him.

“Cen Qi, go take a look!” he ordered a martial artist at his side.

Cen Qi was a peak internal energy practitioner, just a step away from reaching the level of Grandmaster. But that step had eluded him, and he had once been defeated by Mo Chengkong. Mo had artfully promised to help him ascend to Grandmaster, so Cen Qi was wholly obedient.

Among the experts Mo Chengkong had gathered, Cen Qi’s skills were the highest, and he carried himself with some pride. Strolling out with his hands behind his back, he moved toward the front courtyard at a leisurely pace.

Several martial artists trailed behind him, eager to ingratiate themselves. After all, he was nearly a Grandmaster.

After a while, they saw a stranger—a young man—approaching them, also with his hands behind his back.

“Hell, could this brat be the one making all this ruckus?” a one-eyed martial artist sneered, eager to claim credit, and stepped forward menacingly.

“Kid, you’ve got some nerve, making it this far. But don’t think you’ll take another step! I’ll use your head for a football!” he laughed, and the other martial artists joined in, their scorn for the bodyguards evident. Chen Yu’s slim build made them dismiss him as inconsequential, merely a reckless youth.

Chen Yu regarded him coldly, not deigning to acknowledge him.

The disdain infuriated the one-eyed martial artist. “Damn you, ignoring me? Let’s see how I deal with you!”

With a ghostly flash, he lunged at Chen Yu.

The others looked on approvingly. His footwork and speed were top-tier. They regarded Chen Yu as already dead.

But the next moment, they all froze.

The burly one-eyed man was flung backwards like a dead dog, as if struck by a train, and crashed heavily to the ground. They could hear his bones shatter.

Chen Yu calmly retracted his foot; it was clear he had just kicked the man away as if he were a ball.

Now, no one dared underestimate him.

Cen Qi’s expression tightened; for the first time, he took Chen Yu seriously.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“I will say this once: Stand in my way, and you die.” Chen Yu had no patience left for their games.

“Damn it, all together! Take him out!” The martial artists, no longer daring to be careless, charged in unison.

But Cen Qi retreated several steps, watching the scene intently.

Suddenly, his expression changed. The martial artists had barely engaged before they were sent flying, their chests deeply caved in. They fell to the ground, eyes wide in shock, but utterly lifeless.

“This man is of Grandmaster level, just like Mo!” Cen Qi was terrified.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled to find Mo Chengkong.

Chen Yu couldn’t be bothered to give chase. With his hands behind his back, he strolled onward, utterly at ease.

He had taken only a few steps when suddenly another group surged out—four or five dozen martial artists. Individually, they were nothing special, but together, their combined strength rivaled that of a military unit.

Each wielded a weapon, swarming toward Chen Yu, intent on overwhelming him by sheer numbers.

Chen Yu’s eyebrows rose slightly, and his body tensed like a drawn bow.

The stone beneath his feet began to crack like a spiderweb.

“White Emperor’s Golden Imperial Slash!”

With a thunderous shout, his body transformed into a streak of platinum light, shooting into the crowd!

Under the moonlight, fountains of blood erupted. There was no screaming—only the sound of flesh and bone being torn apart, as a deep chasm opened in the earth.

A ghastly sound followed.

The air was thick with the stench of blood.

Chen Yu appeared at the far end of the crowd.

Behind him lay nothing but piles of mangled flesh and shattered bodies. Not one remained intact; in a single breath, the entire force had been annihilated.

White Emperor’s Golden Imperial Slash—becoming the blade itself, its power unspeakably terrifying!

The energy enveloping Chen Yu’s entire body had yet to fully dissipate. It crackled in the wind.

He glanced back, and for once, a bloodthirsty gleam shone in his eyes. This was a feast of death.

Zhang Kangcheng, peering from a room on the second floor, collapsed to the floor. Sweat drenched him, his face as pale as paper.

Beside him, Huang Jie trembled uncontrollably. He had never imagined Chen Yu was so terrifying, shattering every notion he had held.

Mo Chengkong was equally stunned and fearful. He had thought himself invincible in Jiang City, having reached the Grandmaster realm, but the man before him was no less powerful than his own master.

He had once seen his master unleash the Martial Sovereign’s Domain-Forming skill before an entire mercenary army—a web of energy as thin as silk but sharp as razors, slicing the entire force to pieces in an instant. That was his master’s signature move: the Cutting Technique.

Now, witnessing Chen Yu’s abilities, he realized they were no less formidable. All confidence deserted him.

Cen Qi, beside him, couldn’t stop his legs from shaking. Now he understood what “there is always someone stronger” truly meant. He longed to flee, but his legs would not obey.

“Mr. Mo, what do we do? He’s coming to kill us!” Zhang Kangcheng was in utter despair. Now he understood the kind of existence he had provoked, and he was sick with regret.

Mo Chengkong could think of only one thing: escape.

Zhang Kangcheng, anticipating this, clung desperately to Mo’s legs. “Mr. Mo, you can’t leave me! I’ll give you all my money—just save my life!”

He knew Chen Yu would kill him for certain. Before, he had dismissed Chen Yu as a mere wage earner. Even when hiring assassins failed, he hadn’t cared. He had thought Wang Xinyan was helping him from behind the scenes. Now he realized his own stupidity.

“Let go,” Mo Chengkong said coldly, raising his hand. If Zhang Kangcheng kept clinging to him, he would kill him without hesitation.

“M-Mr. Mo, I have an idea!” Huang Jie stammered desperately.

“You have an idea?” All eyes turned to Huang Jie.

“I know that Miss Zuo has a good relationship with that man. We can use her as a shield—maybe we’ll survive!”

“Yes! We’ll threaten him with Zuo Qianhui’s daughter!” Zhang Kangcheng didn’t know what Chen Yu’s relationship with Zuo Qianhui was, but this was a last straw; he had nothing left to lose.

Mo Chengkong hesitated. No one here understood the terror of a Martial Sovereign better than he did. Even if he wanted to run, it was likely too late. He wasted no more time. “Cen Qi, go bring her here.”

Seeing a glimmer of hope, Cen Qi sprang into action, dashing off to fetch Zuo Qianhui.

Mo Chengkong glanced at Huang Jie. “If you’re lucky enough to survive, I’ll take you to meet my master.”

All Huang Jie wanted was to stay alive; he had no wish to meet anyone else, but with Mo’s words, he dared not be careless. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, Mr. Mo!”

“He’s coming this way! No—he’s flying straight at us!” Zhang Kangcheng screamed, pointing out the window in terror.

Chen Yu strode through the air, step by step, toward the second floor.

Zhang Kangcheng rolled across the floor to hide. Huang Jie shrank into a corner, hardly daring to breathe.

Mo Chengkong’s body began to tremble as he backed away, step by step.

Bang!

The glass window exploded—