Chapter Seventy: The Younger Brother Reaches Enlightenment

Blood Spirit Mountain

The towering mountain loomed, its surface glowing with a deep crimson hue. From the glaring red of its rocky cliffs, one could vaguely sense a faint aura, the scent of blood wafting through the air. At its unseen summit, a blanket of scarlet mist shrouded the peak, radiating fiery brilliance like burning clouds; even from the foothills, the dazzling glare was visible.

This Blood Spirit Mountain was no ordinary place.

Within its bloody slopes, Luo Hao kept to himself, avoiding the crowds as he walked alone along the mountain path. Gazing at the mountain, he distinctly felt an aura reminiscent of the Lost Battlefield—a breath worn by the ages, though now extremely diluted.

A sudden rush of wind cut through the air. Luo Hao could clearly sense many martial artists racing toward the summit, their energies diverse and distinct. It seemed the major factions were assembling their forces near the peak.

There—Yang Li!

As he watched the speeding throngs, a flash of murderous intent flickered in Luo Hao’s eyes. On the other side of the mountain path, a figure dressed in black was dashing toward the summit; none other than Yang Li of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect.

Given Luo Hao’s vengeful nature, he could never forget Yang Li’s attack. Yet now was hardly the time for a confrontation. Whether he could defeat Yang Li was uncertain, and many disciples of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect were gathered nearby.

“Senior Brother Yang, why have you stopped?”

“Strange, was it just my imagination?” Just as Luo Hao’s killing intent surfaced, Yang Li abruptly halted his dash. His eyes swept the surroundings, opening and closing as he searched for the source. Moments before, a subtle murderous aura had flickered over him, reminding him of someone long dead.

“Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind. Let’s go!” Yang Li soon moved on. Death’s illusion, the seven-colored dream of the underworld—if Luo Hao were truly lost in it, he’d never survive. Likely the lingering murderous intent in the woods had unsettled him.

Exhaling deeply, Luo Hao forced down the boiling wrath in his heart, careful not to let even a trace slip. His gaze settled, and he continued toward the summit.

He knew well that killing Yang Li would be nearly impossible now. Even in a duel to the death, the odds of slaying him were slim; moreover, Yang Li was accompanied by many disciples of his sect.

A sharp wind swept by, carrying a chill that pierced the soul. Luo Hao touched his nose, feeling the cold, and his brows furrowed. The breeze brought a faint scent of blood, heightening his unease.

Passing through a jagged stretch of rocks, he was confronted with a scene of glaring red—a mass of beast corpses wedged in the crevices, some first-tier, others second-tier.

Likely slain by martial artists ascending earlier, the bodies remained intact, untouched in their haste.

As Luo Hao pressed on toward the peak, the number of martial artists gathered on Blood Spirit Mountain grew. His presence was inevitably noticed. Many looked at him, alone, with unusual glances; though he knew their intentions were ill, Luo Hao paid them little heed so long as none approached to provoke him.

“I wonder if Senior Sister Ji and the others are heading to the summit?” Luo Hao muttered to himself, recalling Ji Rou and her companions. Soon, though, his worries faded—those women were heroes among goddesses, their cultivation far above his.

“Tch!” Near the summit, Su Yao, her long dress swirling, suddenly sneezed. Wrinkling her delicate nose, she grumbled, “It must be that little lecher talking behind my back again.”

“Why won’t you let us ascend? Blood Spirit Mountain isn’t yours, Ten Thousand Demons Sect!” Just as Luo Hao neared the summit, a burst of indignant questioning rang out from the path ahead.

Following the voice, Luo Hao saw that the mountain path’s exit to the summit was now guarded by disciples of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect. No wonder he’d seen their disciples rush up earlier.

“Hurry up and let us through! Heaven’s fortune depends on personal fate—what right do you Ten Thousand Demons Sect have to block the way?” At the front of the crowd, a short, dark-skinned fat youth glared furiously at the disciples barring his path, spittle flying as he spoke.

Behind him stood a dozen others—Luo Hao could tell their cultivation was low, their spiritual energy chaotic, clearly a group of unaffiliated martial artists.

“The summit is fraught with danger. We’re keeping you out for your own good. After all, not every stray cat and dog has the power to protect themselves—hah!” The disciple guarding the exit laughed arrogantly, his disdain for the unaffiliated martial artists clear.

“Get lost! Take a look at yourselves in the mirror—do you really think you’re fit to contend for treasures?” another disciple sneered, cold and proud, as if the unaffiliated weren’t even worthy to speak with him.

“You—” The fat youth’s round face flushed dark red, nostrils flaring, fists clenched till they cracked, ready to fight.

“What, you want to brawl? Best think twice before you do.” Seeing the fat youth’s intent, the disciple showed no fear, his voice thick with threat.

“How odd—why is this pack of mutts yapping away, and no one’s doing anything about it?” Just as the Ten Thousand Demons Sect disciples threatened the young men, a lazy voice approached from afar, drawing the attention of both the sect and the unaffiliated martial artists.

From the back of the crowd, a languid young man strolled forward, coming to stand before the disciples.

“So that’s who it is—a mere seventh-level Qi Spirit rookie. He dares to challenge the Ten Thousand Demons Sect? He’s courting death.” The speaker was another unaffiliated martial artist beside the fat youth, who deliberately edged away from Luo Hao. With cultivation lower than his own, Luo Hao’s bold provocation seemed suicidal.

Yet the fat youth eyed the newcomer with surprise. People like this were either strong and fond of playing the fool, or had powerful backing. No matter how he scrutinized him, the man didn’t fit either mold.

He must just be a poser.

While the fat youth and his companion prepared to enjoy a joke, they failed to notice the Ten Thousand Demons Sect disciples’ horror. Cold sweat broke on their foreheads, and they looked as though they’d seen a ghost.

“Luo... Hao, are you human... or ghost?” At last, one of the sect’s group blurted out a question that left the unaffiliated martial artists dumbfounded.

“Huh!” The fat youth stood stunned—who could explain this? Just moments before, the sect disciples were all arrogance and disdain, but now they acted like subordinates, visibly afraid of this seventh-level Qi Spirit rookie.

“Heh, what can I say? Hell won’t take me, so I’ve come to send Yang Li down. You’re with Yang Li, aren’t you?” Luo Hao’s voice was cold, laced with a savage murderous intent. The sect disciples’ throats clenched, unable to utter a word.

“Luo Hao, your feud with Senior Brother Yang is your own affair, nothing to do with us. If you have the courage, you can pass through here and find him yourself.” Confirming Luo Hao was alive, the sect disciples relaxed slightly, but their voices remained tense—they knew well that his cultivation seemed low, but in combat he was unrivaled outside the Blood Gathering realm.

“Oh, you’re quick to wash your hands of it. But blame yourselves for being disciples of the Ten Thousand Demons Sect—I’ll take my interest first.” As he spoke, an overwhelming aura rose, like the tide of heaven and earth. Beside him, the fat youth’s heart pounded wildly, his flesh trembling.

In the next instant, he felt Luo Hao awaken like a dragon from slumber, the sheer force sending him flying.

Damn it, what did I ever do to you! The fat youth’s mind was filled with misery.

“Not good, run!” Seeing Luo Hao move, the sect disciples abandoned all pretense, disregarding the path and their dignity, and fled toward the summit with desperate haste, as if wishing for extra legs.

“Trying to escape? Not so easy—I said I’d take my interest.” Under the wide-eyed gaze of the unaffiliated martial artists, boundless golden energy surged forth, an ancient dragon’s roar echoing along the path.

Luo Hao struck with a single palm—seemingly simple, yet it felt as if he were moving sun, moon, and stars.

Boom!

Golden light engulfed the sky, countless dragon shadows flickering. A golden palm descended like the hand of heaven itself, crushing from the endless firmament. The void trembled, and the terrifying pressure drove many unaffiliated martial artists to their knees in awe. None of the fleeing sect disciples escaped; the golden palm pinned them all.

Blood burst forth, the scene tragic. Under the golden palm, the sect disciples bled from every orifice, sprawled like dead dogs.

Having finished, Luo Hao dusted off his hands and strode through the path’s exit without a backward glance, leaving a crowd of stunned unaffiliated martial artists.

Watching his receding figure, in just a few minutes, they felt as if they’d dreamed.

Suddenly, the fat youth blinked his beady eyes and, trembling with fat, chased after Luo Hao, calling, “Master, wait! Master, wait!”

Luo Hao turned, surprised at the pursuing fat youth. “Friend, what is it?”

“You stand eight feet tall, I—”

“Speak plainly.”

“Uh, just now I saw your wisdom and power, clearly destined for greatness. In future, you’ll dominate all lands—let me follow you, brother! Please accept me!” The fat youth’s round face was earnest, his eyes shining as he gazed at Luo Hao.

As the saying goes, flattery never wears thin. Luo Hao found the words pleasing and paused. “What’s your name?”

“Tong Tian!”

...

Hearing the fat youth’s answer, Luo Hao rolled his eyes inwardly, turned away without a word, and strode off, leaving the fat youth bewildered in the mountain wind.

The fat youth stood confused—wasn’t everything just fine a moment ago? Refusing to give up, he chased after Luo Hao, catching a mutter: “Tong Tian, why don’t you ascend to heaven? If you’re Tong Tian, then I must be the Supreme One!”

“Supreme One! You’re truly my big brother—wait for me, little brother’s coming!”