“Flying Sword…. He actually used a Flying Sword to… kill someone in Foundation Stage…?”

　　Although that western desert cultivator was the only one whose throat had been slit by the silver shine, everyone instantly became silent as though theirs had been, too. The noise instantly died down as they watched the scene in horror.

　　The Snowy Mountain Disciple didn’t even leave the horse carriage and used only a single Flying Sword to kill a Foundation Stage cultivator from the west?

　　It had to be said that spirit tools like Flying Swords were rarely used by Foundation Stage cultivators. Flying Tools were entry-level spirit tools with limited power that couldn’t keep up with Foundation Stage strength, and yet that Fang Xiaojiu—without even leaving the carriage—was able to use a single Flying Sword to kill someone in Foundation Stage? Just what kind of battle prowess was that?

　　Bzzz ….

　　The Flying Sword didn’t return back to the horse carriage after slicing the throat of the first cultivator. It paused in the air while releasing a buzzing sound, only to suddenly fly towards the second western cultivator in a flash.

　　The second person had some time to react, and he let out a scream before activating his barrier and turning to flee without daring to slow down. This Snowy Mountain disciple really did dare to come and kill here! This was just too vicious—the reason the cultivators believed Fang Xiaojiu had come to admit his fault was because the Nine Songs Tribe was right there .

　　The cultivator only managed to get a few steps before the silver sword managed to catch up. It crashed into the back of the barrier, and its aura was so powerful that the barrier let out sharp cracking sounds before shattering outright. The second cultivator wasn’t able to use any other methods to defend himself before the Flying Sword pierced straight through his chest from behind.

　　“Ahh….”

　　The third cultivator felt as though his very soul had been scared away, and he could only cry out in fear. He’d managed to escape over ten feet away by now, but that bloodied Flying Sword began to chase after him as well.

　　“Who gave you the guts to dare commit murder here?” A grey robe suddenly flashed as a bulky man flew from afar with a speed so great he almost instantly arrived in front of that third cultivator. His light brown pupils swept around before locking onto that Flying Sword, and he let out a cold laugh before moving his palm-leaf-sized hand down to directly grab and capture it using brute force.

　　After killing two people without pause, the Qi surrounding the Flying Sword was nearly exhausted and it wasn’t as fast as it was originally, enough so the man actually managed to catch it. A look of pride began to appear on his face, but after he looked towards the black horse carriage and prepared to scold the person inside, the last of the Flying Sword’s power was activated and it started to buzz while moving around like a live fish.

　　Surprised, the bulky man quickly used his Qi and strength to suppress the Flying Sword while a tingling numbness settled into his bones. It took quite a long while, but the Flying Sword’s Qi eventually began to dissipate and the bulky man looked towards the horse carriage with caution and alarm.

　　The sword had killed two people one after another and the Qi left over had been its very last strand, but it had still required all of his might to suppress it. Just how powerful was the cultivator who’d commanded it? From proud arrogance to heartfelt terror, the man’s emotions changed in an instant.

　　The inner turmoil in that large grey-robed man was of course not seen by others—all they saw was that he’d been able to successfully restrain the Flying Sword. The third cultivator’s face was as grey as ash after being saved, and he moved behind the large man while loudly crying out, “Please help us, honorable sir of the Nine Songs Tribe! This Snowy Mountain disciple actually dared to kill our western desert cultivators in public! This is a crime so great it cannot be forgiven!”

　　The nearby cultivators were all filled with a sense of joy. Now that this person had arrived, there was finally someone who’d be able to suppress this vicious Snowy Mountain disciple.

　　“Fang Xiaojiu, my master is seeking you. Are you here to beg for forgiveness?” the large man loudly asked while hiding away his look of surprise.

　　“And who the hell are you?” Fang Xing lazily asked in return without getting out of his carriage.

　　“I am Lei Hong, the subordinate of the Nine Songs Tribe’s young master, Lei Jiu!” the large man angrily replied. “I am speaking to you right now, how dare you not get out of the carriage? Who gave you the guts to behave this way? Bind yourself and get out immediately, then come with me to seek forgiveness from Young Master Lei Jiu!”

　　“So you’re a flunky of a flunky? Since when did flunkies become so arrogant as well?” This had actually left Fang Xing rather angry. He’d assumed this was someone of importance, but who would have guessed it was nothing more than a servant of the Nine Songs Tribe? What made it even worse was everyone kept spouting off nothing but “admit your crime” or “go seek forgiveness”; did they really think they represented the highest royal authority? And even if they werethe highest royal authority, what would it matter?

　　From the very first day a cultivator began their training, they would only respect their teachers, who represented the passing on of traditions. Cultivators feared the heavens and earth because the heavens and earth contained the theories and teachings of Dao.

　　What the hell did a royal authority represent?

　　Lei Hong instantly became furious, his dark face turning into a stifled purple-red. “How… how dare you look down on me!”

　　“What does it matter? Aren’t you a flunky of the Nine Songs Tribe? Isn’t the Nine Songs Tribe a flunky of the Huangfu clan?” Fang Xing snickered while leaving little doubt what he thought about their relative standings.

　　Embarrassed, Lei Hong didn’t dare to rebut too recklessly. If he were to say he wasn’t a flunky of the Nine Songs Tribe, he’d naturally be offending his superiors, and if he were to say the Nine Songs Tribe wasn’t a flunky of the Huangfu clan, it was possible his young master Lei Jiu would personally declare him dead. Regardless, being ridiculed by someone to this point was truly unpleasant, but he could only clamp his teeth and coldly shout, “Is this the attitude you hold while seeking forgiveness? All I see is someone trying to revolt!” If he hadn’t sensed just how much battle prowess Fang Xing had thanks to that Flying Sword from earlier, he would have already attacked by now.

　　“I’ve never even heard of what the hell this Nine Songs thing is; where did you get the idea I want to revolt?” Fang Xing cursed with a sneer, showing no respect towards the Nine Songs Tribe at all. With that, he began to move his carriage forward once more, curious to see if anyone dared to stop him!

　　Lei Hong had a truly terrible expression on his face. He didn’t dare to fight against Fang Xing, but letting him go just like that would leave all of the Nine Songs Tribe ashamed of his inaction. It just so happened that his young master Lei Jiu was inside the formation pivot to personally control the formation and capture “Fang Xing”, and Lei Hong had been told not to disturb him without good reason. He didn’t dare send any messages over to his master, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious and helpless.

　　Suddenly, a thought flashed across Lei Hong’s mind. “All cultivators, listen up! The Huangfu clan has ordered for this boy to be captured dead or alive, but it was delayed because of the chaos caused by that little demon Fang Xing. My young master announced that anyone who captures Fang Xing would be able to obtain a summons from the Huangfu clan to enter the Sword Mound and choose a Sword Embryo. This Snowy Mountain disciple is so disgustingly rude and dares to publicly oppose the orders of our Nine Songs Tribe—his crimes are so extremely terrible as well that I wonder if someone might receive a summons if they manage to capture and bring him to my young master.”

　　As soon as those words were spoken, all the surrounding cultivators showed shock while feverish glints appeared in their eyes. The reason for being here was naturally to capture the little demon Fang Xing and obtain a chance at entering the Sword Mound, but there was at least a few hundred cultivators here and only one Fang Xing. All the cultivators knew their odds were low, but when they heard there might be a second chance, all their attention shot towards the horse carriage.

　　There were hundreds of cultivators here, and at least a third of them were in Foundation Stage. Although most of them did not dare to provoke this Snowy Mountain disciple, there were a few who were confident in their own battle prowess and daring enough to give it a try. Furthermore, there were so many of them that if they were to all go in at once, even if this Snowy Mountain disciple had three heads and six arms, it’d surely be difficult to weather through such an onslaught.

　　Lei Hong showed a cold smirk when he saw this and hid himself behind all the cultivators. Not only had he fulfilled his purpose, he’d only said there was achance of being allowed into the Sword Mound upon capturing this Fang Xiaojiu, he never said it was certain. After all, although Fang Xiaojiu had indeed made him angry, his crimes were far from those of Fang Xing; that little demon had directly murdered people belonging to the Huangfu clan while Fang Xiaojiu had merely broken the rules. Simply put, that little demon’s crimes warranted a death sentence whereas Fang Xiaojiu’s only warranted some punishment.

　　“Everyone together, we’ll capture him in one go!”

　　“We’ve got so many people, how can we be scared of just one of him? Let’s see who’s fortunate enough to capture him for a summons from Huangfu….”

　　“Hurry and kneel and beg for forgiveness, Fang Xiaojiu! If you admit defeat and bind yourself, we shall spare your pitiful life….”

　　After being lured in by the temptation of the Sword Mound, all the cultivators began to gradually circle in closer while loudly shouting harsh words and orders. A battle was on the verge of breaking out any moment.

　　“Very well. Let me collect one more round of blood sacrifice to prepare for the battles to come!” Fang Xing coldly laughed, held up the blinds to his carriage, and walked down before turning towards Chu Ci. “Don’t peek, girl. Be careful not to have blood splatter on you!”

　　Chu Ci nodded with a pale face, but didn’t want to worry him and merely responded, “Brother Jiu… be careful!”

　　After Fang Xing got out of the carriage, he looked around with a frigid gaze and a face full of murderous intent. Just when it seemed battle was inevitable, someone loudly called out, “Who has so much guts as to touch our Snowy Mountain’s disciple?”

　　The voice was accompanied by a few swoosh noises, and eight formation flags flew over from afar to land precisely around the horse carriage. A protective formation instantly formed to keep the horse carriage completely safe, and three shadows—one white, one purple, one black—darted swiftly closer to land in front of the carriage and give the surrounding cultivators cold looks.

　　Fang Xing was a bit surprised to see who they were. ‘They’re here as well?’

　　Everyone else was also surprised when they clearly saw who these three were. “The Snowy Mountain’s five disciples are here?” they whispered in shock. “Back off, I didn’t know the disciples of the Snowy Mountain were also here!” All the courage those cultivators showed before washed away like the tide, leaving a large and empty space.

　　Of these three people, one was a white-clothed woman with a white robe, white socks, white boots, and even a hair band that was white. She held a milky-white longsword and gazed coldly at all the cultivators nearby.

　　The purple-dressed woman held a zither in her hands and had a face that was dainty and beautiful, but exceptionally cold.

　　The person in black robes was a man in his twenties, with thick brows, large eyes, and empty hands.

　　The three of them were none other than Xiao Xue, Yu Gu’yin, and Hou Guimen.

　　“Fellow Daoist from the Nine Songs Tribe, it is the fault of our Snowy Mountain to have our disciple offend you. Please kindly forgive us….” As another calm voice rose, all the cultivators moved aside, creating a path down the middle and allowing a golden-robed man to walk closer. This person was in his thirties, with sharp brows and eyes as clear as a cold star. He cupped his hands towards Lei Hong, the servant of the Nine Songs Tribe, but even though his words were filled with politeness, his expression was excessively cold. There was a sense of arrogance to him that implied none were worthy of his gaze.

　　“Royal Big Brother…!” Chu Ci shouted in excitement when she saw who it was.