Immortality begins with the Swordsman.

Chapter 38 You're not worthy?

Where?

Where is Cai Ling Shuang?!

Xue Yongze stood in the line, relatively close to the front due to his status. He looked around, his eyes constantly darting through the gaps in the crowd, eagerly searching for Cai Ling Shuang's figure.

Finally, his gaze sharpened.

found it!

That aloof and proud figure stood not far behind Ouyang Qingzhao, illuminated by the firelight like a snow-capped peak, immaculate and untouched.

A lewd smile curled at the corner of his lips, his eyes burning with a burning greed: "If I can capture her in the chaos, even just to have a kiss, it will be a worthwhile trip."

At that very moment—

"Let's do it!"

A sharp shout echoed through the night sky!

Xue Yongze suddenly awoke and keenly noticed that countless figures appeared like ghosts on the steep slopes on both sides.

"boom--!"

With a sharp crack, a pitch-black earthenware jar fell from the sky, crashing down not far from him and shattering into countless fragments, its liquid scattering everywhere.

Just as Xue Yongze realized there was an ambush, the second black can came hurtling straight at his face!

"Sizzle!"

With a swift swing of his longsword, he cleaved the black jar in two, instantly drenching him with a pungent liquid.

"What is it?"

The thought had barely crossed my mind when I heard someone exclaim, "It's kerosene! Quick—get out of the way!"

Xue Yongze's pupils contracted as he saw flames erupt before him, tearing at him like a demon, instantly engulfing him.

"Ahhhhh—"

Flames shot into his nasal cavity, eye sockets, and mouth, burning every inch of his skin as if countless needles were piercing it at the same time.

He frantically patted the flames off his body with both hands and rolled around on the ground, but to no avail. The flames were like a persistent carbuncle, impossible to extinguish.

"Help me, I don't want to die—"

"You, you—don't come any closer."

The people around retreated in terror, as if avoiding a snake or scorpion, fearing to be touched by the terrifying flames.

However, the roads were narrow and the crowds were dense, so even if one wanted to hide, there was nowhere to escape.

suddenly--

A flash of sword light appeared, its cold gleam dazzling.

Xue Yongze's head tilted to the side and rolled silently to the ground, his body crashing down with a thud. Flames still sizzled on his torso, filling the air with the smell of burning flesh...

"Young Master Dongfang" acted decisively, killing several "fire men" in succession to prevent the flames from spreading from person to person.

But he could only manage what was right in front of him. Further away, the fire had already started, and with the help of the strong winds, it was too late to save the situation.

Now, the situation has reversed, and not only has the momentum been lost, but we are also in dire straits.

And the only way out—

Seeing the crowd scattering in panic, his expression turned ashen, and he shouted, "Gentlemen, the wind is blowing against us; we can't escape! The only way out is ahead. Follow me!"

Upon hearing this, Pei Muchen, Lu Huairong, Liu Wenling, Ji Wumian, and the others did not hesitate and leaped out, rushing towards the Huashan group in front, trying to break through the encirclement.

This would at least deter the Huashan disciples lying in ambush above from throwing oil canisters down, lest they accidentally injure Ouyang Qingzhao and the others below.

"Step down!"

Seeing Ji Wumian and the others attack, Ouyang Qingzhao waved his hand, signaling Cheng Buyou to retreat.

One man and one sword stood silently in the middle of the road, like an insurmountable mountain, blocking their path to survival.

"Go to hell!"

Ji Wumian took the lead, his figure like a fierce tiger, his swordsmanship ruthless, all of which were desperate moves.

The heads of the Pei, Xue, and Liu families followed closely behind and joined the siege of Ouyang Qingzhao.

Gu Changfeng frowned slightly, about to draw his sword to help, when he heard Ye Qingge say calmly:

"Just a few good-for-nothings! Your Uncle Ouyang can handle them. Just keep an eye on them."

She took a small sip of wine, her gaze indifferent and unwavering.

At this time.

Ji Wumian, Pei Muchen, Xue Huairong, and Liu Wenling stood in four directions, fighting against Ouyang Qingzhao. However, the terrain was narrow and the cliffs were steep, so even though more than twenty people rushed at them, they had no way to intervene, and they were locked in a stalemate.

Gu Changfeng listened to Ye Qingge's words and watched Ouyang Qingzhao use her sword with peace of mind.

Upon closer inspection, they were greatly surprised to find that Ouyang Qingzhao was using only the basic sword techniques of Mount Hua.

This beginner sword technique originally emphasized lightness and agility, but in Ouyang Qingzhao's hands, it was interpreted as something else entirely—feminine and graceful.

It was precisely because of this wisp of yin-like power that Ji Wumian and his three companions were unable to do anything to him for the time being.

Gu Changfeng grew increasingly astonished, pondering, "Incredible! It's not just the sword technique itself that's impressive, but the way he wields the sword. This way of using the sword clearly shows he has forged his own unique path..."

Suddenly.

Ouyang Qingzhao's sword style changed suddenly, his sword moves shifting from extremely yin and soft to extremely yang and hard. This sudden change startled Ji Wumian, who was momentarily lost in thought before feeling a sharp pain in his chest.

"puff!"

Ji Wumian looked down at his chest, where he had been stabbed. Blood was gushing out, his face was deathly pale, and his lips were trembling.

"Impossible...you're not injured..." He stared wide-eyed, his voice filled with disbelief.

Yu Guangzhong saw Ouyang Qingzhao give a disdainful smile.

That smile clearly said: I was just kidding!

Ji Wumian's pupils contracted, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, dying instantly.

Pei Muchen, Xue Huairong, and Liu Wenling's expressions changed drastically, and they all stopped in their tracks.

"Clap clap clap—"

A round of applause suddenly came from behind, followed by Gu Changfeng's voice: "Uncle-Master Ouyang is awesome..."

Upon hearing this, Ouyang Qingzhao's lips twitched involuntarily.

Attracted by the sound, Pei Muchen and the others looked up and were instantly drawn to the woman beside Gu Changfeng.

"Ye Qingge?"

"How did she get here?"

"So that's how it is. Ouyang Qingzhao, you're so cunning, so ruthless..."

Ouyang Qingzhao said calmly, "Aren't you ruthless? Wasn't your initial goal to annihilate all three hundred of us?"

Pei Muchen snorted coldly: "Hmph, in the end, the winner takes all and the loser is condemned."

At this moment, "Young Master Dongfang" stepped forward and said sternly, "Things have come to this point; only a desperate fight for survival offers any hope of survival..."

"Let's do it!"

……

A moment later.

The fire was still burning, and a low, mournful wail echoed in the wind.

Blood flowed along the mountain path, and corpses lay strewn about. Ouyang Qingzhao stood quietly among them, his robes fluttering slightly, as if the mortal world had long since vanished, leaving only desolation.

"Young Master Dongfang" knelt on the ground, his clothes crisscrossed with sword marks and tattered, yet without any bloodstains...

He glared angrily at Ouyang Qingzhao ahead, gritting his teeth as he said, "Kill me or torture me, it's all up to you. Why humiliate me like this?"

"Humiliation?" Ouyang Qingzhao smiled faintly. "Given my status, I can afford to kowtow to you a few times."

"Young Master Dongfang" was startled, as if he had seen a ghost: "You...you knew all this?"

Ouyang Qingzhao said calmly, "I've heard that within the Demonic Sect, there is only one person with the surname Dongfang. That person, after achieving mastery of martial arts last year, called himself Dongfang Bubai (Invincible East). In the Demonic Sect, where masters abound, to dare to claim invincibility speaks volumes about the strength of his martial arts."

His tone shifted, his gaze sharp as a knife: "You impersonate him? You dare to challenge me?"