Chapter Two: Enthusiastic Citizen Yang Wenhao

The intervention of Abbess Extinction swiftly quelled the disturbances among the orthodox sects. Although the six orthodox factions had triumphed over the ambush set by the demonic cult, they soon found themselves completely surrounded by cultists emerging from all sides.

Despite the fierce battle raging ahead, Yang Wenhao showed not the slightest intention to intervene. His expression remained cold as his gaze swept ceaselessly over the chaotic battlefield.

Soon, his eyes fixed on a particular direction. "Zhang Wuji—I've finally found you," he murmured.

In truth, Yang Wenhao had never met Zhang Wuji in person. However, the young man in question was accompanied by a red-clad woman in shackles—none other than Xiao Zhao. That alone was enough; if it was Xiao Zhao, then the young man at her side could only be Zhang Wuji.

Neither Zhang Wuji nor Xiao Zhao had come to aid the orthodox sects or the demonic cult. Their sole purpose was to ascend Bright Summit. Yet, due to the Blue Winged Bat King's recent declarations, any who claimed to be White-browed Eagle King's grandson Zhang Wuji were to be killed on sight throughout Bright Summit.

Moments earlier, Zhang Wuji had announced his identity, and now cultists were hot on their heels.

Observing their escape route, Yang Wenhao's lips curled into a slight smile. With a shift of his body, he followed after them.

After some time, the chase led them into a mountain valley. Zhang Wuji and Xiao Zhao ran ahead, the cultists relentlessly pursuing. But once the pair darted into a cave, the followers halted, visibly hesitant.

"Flag Lord, what now?" one cultist asked.

The Five Elements Flag Lord glanced at the cave into which Zhang Wuji and Xiao Zhao had vanished. "That is the sacred tomb of successive cult leaders. The place is riddled with deadly traps. Entering it is certain death."

He waved a dismissive hand. "We return to assist the others."

"Yes, sir!" the cultists replied in unison.

Once they had all departed, a young man in white appeared at the cave's entrance. Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, a chilling, sinister air assaulted him. Yang Wenhao frowned but pressed on deeper into the passage.

After a considerable distance, a shadow suddenly sprang out before him.

"Cheng Kun!" Upon seeing the figure, Yang Wenhao narrowed his eyes.

Cheng Kun, wounded from his earlier battle with Zhang Wuji, hadn't expected to encounter anyone else in these tomb passages, much less someone outside of Zhang Wuji and Xiao Zhao.

"You're Yang Wenhao!" Cheng Kun peered through the dimness and, upon recognizing the face before him, stiffened in alarm.

"It's been a long time," Yang Wenhao greeted.

"Benefactor Yang, indeed, it has," Cheng Kun forced a smile. "Would you be so kind as to spare my life? I would be eternally grateful."

Even a fool could see that anyone appearing here at this moment would be no ordinary opponent.

"A way out… Certainly, that's possible. However, I have a fondness for peculiar martial arts. Why not teach me all the techniques you know?" Yang Wenhao's tone was calm, with a trace of amusement.

"You jest, benefactor. I am but a humble monk and know of no such secret arts. Please, show mercy, and I will never forget it," Cheng Kun replied.

"Gratitude? I have no need for that," Yang Wenhao's voice grew icy. "I said—all of them."

Cheng Kun hesitated. "All the techniques I know were taught by my master. If you wish to learn them, perhaps we should go to him together. If he agrees, I would gladly instruct you in every art."

But before Cheng Kun could finish his words, Yang Wenhao suddenly struck.

Cheng Kun instinctively tried to defend himself, but Yang Wenhao's speed was simply overwhelming.

With a dull thud, Cheng Kun took a direct kick to the stomach, his body crashing into the stone wall behind him.

He coughed, blood trickling from his mouth.

Already no match for Yang Wenhao, and injured from his earlier clash with Zhang Wuji, Cheng Kun was now utterly helpless—a lamb to the slaughter.

"I won't say it a third time," Yang Wenhao gazed down with chilling indifference. "All your techniques! And don't try any tricks, or I'll test my blade's edge on your neck."

At this point, Cheng Kun was cursing his fate. First Zhang Wuji, now this cold-blooded Yang Wenhao—he was having the worst luck imaginable.

"I'll talk…" he relented, believing that with Yang Wenhao's ruthless reputation, refusal meant certain death. Perhaps, if he complied, he might survive, especially considering Princess Zhao Min's influence.

[System prompt: Congratulations, Host! You have acquired the martial arts 'Primordial Force,' 'Thunderbolt Fist,' 'Phantom Yin Finger,' and 'Nine Yang Skill.']

"Now will you spare me, Benefactor Yang?" Cheng Kun asked, wiping blood from his lips.

Yang Wenhao nodded, satisfied. "Not bad… However—"

Cheng Kun's face, once hopeful, instantly fell at that "however."

"A villain like you, a blight upon society—I, as an upstanding citizen, have a duty to deal with such scum," Yang Wenhao replied coldly.

Before Cheng Kun could react, his eyes widened in shock as his hand tremblingly reached for his throat. Looking down, he saw it stained with fresh blood.

"You…"

Blood gushed forth like a fountain, unstoppable. As Cheng Kun collapsed, his life draining away, Yang Wenhao stood above him, expressionless.

[System prompt: Congratulations, Host! You have slain the traitor Cheng Kun, purged evil, and earned the praise of the people. Awarded 100 points.]

With a flick of his sword, Yang Wenhao sent Cheng Kun's blood spattering onto the ground, leaving his blade spotless. Sheathing his sword, he stepped over the corpse and continued deeper into the tomb.

"System, fuse the newly acquired techniques."

[Fusion requires 100 points. Proceed with payment?]

"Proceed."

[Fusion in progress: 'Primordial Force' and 'Nine Yang Skill' merging into Heavenly Dao Internal Arts; 'Thunderbolt Fist' merging into Heavenly Dao Fist Techniques; 'Phantom Yin Finger' merging into Heavenly Dao Finger Techniques.]

As the system notification confirmed the successful fusion, Yang Wenhao halted his steps. Not because he wished to stop, but because he had reached the innermost chamber of the tomb.

Strictly speaking, he had arrived at the deepest part, but unless he shattered the stone door before him, this was as far as he could go.

Yang Wenhao drew the alloy sword at his waist, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the stone barrier.

…

"Hurry and practice, Young Master; I'll guard you," Xiao Zhao said with a bright smile to Zhang Wuji.

Zhang Wuji nodded. At once, he prepared to sit cross-legged and begin cultivating the Great Shifting of Heaven and Earth from the inscriptions on the stone walls.

A thunderous crash echoed suddenly.

"What was that?!" The sound yanked Zhang Wuji from his meditative state.

"Young Master… it’s a man," Xiao Zhao stammered, tugging at his sleeve and pointing behind him.

Turning, Zhang Wuji saw a young man in white, sword in hand, walk calmly into the stone chamber. Broken stone slabs lay scattered at his feet, evidence that he had just shattered one of the thick barriers—most likely the very passage they had entered from, which should have been sealed after Xiao Zhao’s ritual bows and kowtows.

"Who are you?" Zhang Wuji asked, frowning at the stranger.

The youth smiled. "No one in particular—just a sweeper in this world."

No sooner had he spoken than the youth sprang into action.

"Careful!" Zhang Wuji cried, shoving Xiao Zhao aside.

He hadn't expected this stranger to attack at the slightest provocation.

With a resounding thud, Yang Wenhao sent Zhang Wuji flying with a single kick, slamming him into the solid wall. Blood spurted from Zhang Wuji's lips.

"Young Master!" Xiao Zhao, having been pushed aside, rushed to his aid.

"We've neither grudge nor enmity with you. Why do this?" Zhang Wuji gasped, bewildered at drawing such a formidable foe out of nowhere. The oppressive aura emanating from the youth made it clear—he stood no chance.

"Indeed, we have no personal enmity," Yang Wenhao replied. "But someone requires your death."

The system was not a person, yet its will was more absolute than any human’s.

"Someone requires my death?" A glint of cold understanding flashed in Zhang Wuji’s eyes as if he had already guessed who wanted him gone.

Yang Wenhao saw this but offered no explanation. Whoever Zhang Wuji suspected was none of his concern. His only goal was clear: kill Zhang Wuji, and he could finally return home.

The sword in his hand glinted dangerously—a blade of alloy, harder and sturdier than any other weapon in this world. In all likelihood, it was the most unbreakable weapon to be found.

Watching the young man approach step by step, Zhang Wuji panicked. "Please, friend, my grandfather is the White-browed Eagle King of the demonic cult. If you’d be willing to grant me mercy, I would repay you tenfold in the future."