Chapter 114: The Name of the Butcher

An invisible force prevented Yin Tianfang from retreating. The fist, shrouded in darkness, reached him in an instant. The peerless power tore through the void and compressed the air, striking him like a crashing mountain.

"Die!" A cold, heartless shout exploded in the air. Zhao Zixiong stared at Yin Tianfang with a frigid and ruthless expression.

Yin Tianfang’s pupils contracted slightly, a flicker of panic appearing in his eyes. He channeled the spiritual energy within his body, attempting to pull back. Seeing this, a cold, sinister smile curled the corners of Zhao Zixiong’s mouth.

The brutal punch, carrying enough force to shatter mountains and split rocks, was only a foot away when the panic in Yin Tianfang’s eyes suddenly vanished. He looked at Zhao Zixiong, who was barely three feet away, with an indifferent expression and raised his hands, crossing them before his chest.

"Bang!" The savage, peerless fist slammed heavily into Yin Tianfang’s arms. A dull thud was accompanied by the sickening sound of snapping bones.

*Puchi!*

A mouthful of blood sprayed out, and Yin Tianfang’s face turned deathly pale, yet a faint smile graced his lips. Zhao Zixiong’s heart skipped a beat; a sudden, chilling sense of intense crisis overwhelmed him. Before he could react, a streak of purple light shot out along with the blood Yin Tianfang had spat, flashing and then vanishing.

Zhao Zixiong looked down at his own chest. Blood bubbled out; his heart had been pierced, and his life force was rapidly ebbing away.

*Bang!*

Yin Tianfang’s body fell from the high altitude like a meteorite, slamming into the ground. The earth seemed to tremble; dust billowed as a massive crater formed.

"Cough, cough!" A violent coughing sound came from the bottom of the crater. Yin Tianfang knelt, his arms hanging limply. The sleeves of his robe had been shredded by that brutal punch, and the bones in his arms were completely shattered. His clothes had split open at the chest, revealing a golden inner armor beneath.

It was precisely because of this armor that Yin Tianfang had dared to take the blow head-on. Even so, he had sustained grievous injuries.

In the air, Zhao Zixiong stared at his chest, his eyes wide with shock. He could never have imagined that even after unleashing his full strength, he would still be defeated.

His gaze gradually turned hollow, and his body slumped limply from the sky. Staring blankly at the firmament, he felt a complex surge of emotions, followed at last by a faint, lingering sigh.

When the king falls, the victor writes the history—what else was there to say?

*Thud!*

Zhao Zixiong’s body hit the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. As his life force faded, his eyes slowly closed.

Yin Tianfang struggled to climb out of the crater. He approached Zhao Zixiong’s corpse, his gaze flickering. With a mere thought, an invisible hand lifted Zhao Zixiong’s storage bag.

Suddenly, a streak of black light flew out from between Zhao Zixiong’s brows.

"Boy, although I have lost this time, we will meet again. When that day comes, I will kill you with my own hands!" A cold, confident voice echoed in the air. The black light pierced the void and vanished.

Yin Tianfang’s brows furrowed, his heart heavy. The power backing the Qingyun Sect appeared to be far from simple.

Taking a deep breath, Yin Tianfang flashed away, speeding toward the distance.

Inside a small bamboo grove at the Qingyun Sect, a young man in white slowly opened his eyes. With a wave of his sleeve, a transparent bead appeared before him.

*Crack!* With a crisp sound, a fissure appeared on the bead. The crack spread, and before the young man’s eyes, the bead shattered into two halves and fell to the ground.

The other youths also opened their eyes, staring at the broken pieces on the floor, their brows knitting together.

"Junior Brother Zixiong has been defeated and killed?"

"Given Junior Brother Zixiong’s cultivation, even a mid-stage Golden Core expert would be no match for him if he went all out. Could it be that some old monster from the Xuandao Sect is still alive and targeted him?"

"Do not worry. It was only Junior Brother Zixiong’s avatar that perished. However, with the avatar destroyed, it may be difficult for him to return there. From now on, be cautious and do not commit any errors; you must secure what the Master desires."

"Understood, Senior Brother." The youths replied with solemn expressions.

In the air, a streak of light sped across the sky, landing beside a desolate mountain and transforming into a figure. This was none other than Yin Tianfang.

*Puchi!* Upon landing, Yin Tianfang’s face paled, and he spat out another mouthful of blood, his footsteps unsteady. He had already been severely wounded by Zhao Zixiong’s punch, and this journey had worsened his condition, leaving him unable to fly further.

With a thought, a flying sword emerged from his storage bag and thrust into the rock wall. A cave quickly formed, and Yin Tianfang vanished inside. Loose rocks fell, sealing the entrance and restoring the wall to its original appearance.

Inside the cave, Yin Tianfang sat cross-legged and began to heal his injuries.

A few days later, several streaks of light arrived outside the Xuandao Sect. These were massive flying swords, each carrying several figures.

Leading them was an old man in yellow Taoist robes—Daoist Huanglong of the Qingyun Sect. As the group arrived above the Xuandao Sect and saw the scene below, they couldn't help but gasp.

On the ground, blood had already dried, and corpses lay strewn about like a purgatory on earth. The Qingyun Sect disciples, along with the Xuandao Sect members who had defected, were all dead. Even the elders who had once belonged to the Xuandao Sect had not a single survivor among them.

"Who could have done this?" Daoist Huanglong frowned as he looked down. Judging by the state of the bodies, they had clearly been killed by the same person.

"Could it be that Qian Chuan is not dead?" Huanglong wondered. The experts of the Xuandao Sect had been wiped out in the war years ago. Only Qian Chuan had escaped, though he had fallen off a cliff severely wounded, his fate unknown.

"Damn it!" Suddenly, Daoist Huanglong’s expression shifted. He vanished in a flash, heading straight for the Disciplinary Hall. Moments later, he emerged, his face as dark as a storm cloud.

"That old ghost Xuanyin was rescued. This matter must be reported to those Lords," Huanglong thought to himself.

"Fifth Elder, return to the sect immediately and report the situation here to those Lords," Huanglong commanded. The Fifth Elder acknowledged and took off, speeding toward the Qingyun Sect.

Time slipped away, and a month passed. During this month, the events at the Xuandao Sect spread among various factions, eventually reaching every corner of the Qingshui Kingdom.

Hundreds of Qingyun Sect disciples had been slaughtered by a single person in a single day, with not a soul left alive. Such ruthless methods chilled all who heard of it. To kill as easily as slaughtering dogs—the perpetrator was nothing more than a butcher.

As the story spread, the name "The Butcher" began to circulate.