Chapter 348: Rock The Boat
Rock The Boat . . .
"According to the information you've provided, only I can mimic the Boundless Saint's attack accurately... We are operating within a confined scope. Let's keep this between us," Cha Eun Xiao suggested, "As for the attacks from the two great sects and the other superior cultivators, you both have comprehensive knowledge about them. Do what is necessary... It's time to make our move."
"One more thing. We must make this a substantial matter. The bigger, the better."
Cha Eun Xiao's tone was solemn.
They promptly acted upon his directives.
Seeing Cha Eun Xiao's swift response, the two assassins understood that delay was not an option. Both men were decisive in their actions. They nodded and declared, "Absolutely. We will commence immediately. We may not excel at scheming, but we are experts in creating chaos!"
Assassins employed various techniques to execute their targets. In many cases, a successful assassination operation required creating a substantial commotion to divert attention and achieve the mission's objectives.
Almost every assassin possessed the skill to disrupt the status quo. Such training was a fundamental component of an assassin's skill set. Ning Biluo and Liu Changjun were exceptionally skilled in causing disturbances, ranking among the best in their field.
Cha Eun Xiao had wisely entrusted them with this task.
He couldn't help but wonder about the scale of chaos they would create. With their proficiency in inciting chaos and their fearless approach, the city of Chen-Xing was bound to become significantly more turbulent than ever before, potentially reaching levels of chaos previously unimagined.
In the dark of night, the wind blew gently.
Dressed in black, Cha Eun Xiao sprinted nimbly across the rooftops, carried by the wind.
In that moment, he relished the exhilaration of being unburdened and free, reminiscent of the days he had spent in the Qing-Yun Realm during his previous life.
He couldn't help but feel that his return to the Qing-Yun Realm was drawing near.
Meanwhile, the members of the Sunlight Sect seethed with anger. Swearing under their breaths, their voices never rose above a whisper. It appeared they were wary of being overheard.
The heavily bearded man who had been injured was no ordinary individual. He happened to be the nephew of the Sunlight Sect's Grandmaster. A formidable cultivator in his own right, Mu Zizhu was known for his prowess and had a strong backing. His belligerent and haughty behavior had earned him little favor among his peers.
While they had long given up on the idea of healing the heavily bearded man, a heavy, uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. Even though the Sunlight Sect members harbored little affection for him, the atmosphere rendered them momentarily speechless.
Words of solace seemed nearly impossible to muster in such a situation.
[What could they possibly say? Should they plan revenge against the Cloud Mist Sect's "Wan of the Clouds" once the injured man recovered? Seek vengeance, or worse?]
These were sentiments best left unspoken. Consequently, muttered obscenities were heard, but no one dared to utter any serious threats openly. Such reckless utterances could potentially summon Wan of the Clouds to their very doorstep, and her wrath was not to be trifled with. The Sunlight Sect, among others, would remain silent, and might even attempt appeasement through gifts in the face of her overwhelming power. She represented the epitome of authority and justice in their world.
This was not a unique circumstance. It had happened to others before, and they were well aware of the gravity of the matter. They could only murmur their frustrations in private.
Given that raising the topic of vengeance or a retaliatory strike would hardly console their comrade, they remained at a loss.
The room brimmed with a collective despondency.
The Sunlight Sect members were accustomed to deriving satisfaction from witnessing the misery of others. However, as the tide had now turned, and they found themselves on the receiving end of distress, they grappled with newfound frustration.
"Ah... Look at how things have transpired. We truly find ourselves in a helpless situation," finally, one of them broke the silence. "The House of the Chaotic Storms oversees matters in the capital, and we are effectively under their protection. We must defer to their authority. Additionally, we must remember that women, at times, act unpredictably."
"Exactly. Women often exhibit volatile behavior. They experience discomfort for several days every month, and their mental states may become erratic. Perhaps today is one such day when this particular woman is not feeling her best, and we've inadvertently crossed paths with her misfortune," another offered as an explanation.
"Indeed, that seems plausible. Furthermore, we are martial cultivators, and suffering is an intrinsic part of our journey. The more trials we endure, the wiser we become..."
"A wise individual knows when to step back. We bear these hardships so we may prolong our lives. Such restraint is an act of valor, far from any sense of immorality!"
"Yes, you're absolutely right. We are men of magnanimity, prepared to extend mercy because that's what heroes do!"
Their words flowed incessantly, growing more enthusiastic as they attempted to rationalize the situation. The topic shifted continually. Gradually, they convinced themselves of their sagacity, magnanimity, heroism, and greatness...
In the quest for self-assurance, repeated lies were woven into truths. Be it superior cultivators or ordinary people, when faced with the need to console themselves, they all became unwitting participants in their own self-deception, reveling in the imagined triumph.
As they continued to vent their simmering frustration, the Sunlight Sect members grew increasingly animated. In their zealous display, they momentarily forgot about Mu Zizhu, the unfortunate man lying sprawled on the ground, who now bore a countenance reminiscent of a swine.
His two eyes had swollen beyond recognition, reduced to narrow slits amidst the sea of disfiguration. Blood marred his visage, oozing from his mouth as he drooled uncontrollably. His cheeks bore deep indentations, not a single intact tooth remaining. His limbs and torso, once whole, were now shattered fragments of bone and flesh, broken beyond recognition.
However, hatred burned fiercely within the narrow slits of his swollen eyes. Despite his pitiful state, he remained resolute in his silence.
In that very moment, a sinister voice punctuated the scene with sardonic laughter. "Ah, the illustrious Sunlight Sect, purportedly the most formidable sect in the world. Yet here you are, reduced to this pitiable state. Who could have wrought such a catastrophic change upon you? Hmm, haha. Word has it that a woman is responsible for your woeful condition. How gallant it must feel to be pummeled by a woman. Despite that, you continue to sing your own praises... My, my, you truly are a band of heroes!"
The unmistakable mockery dripped from the speaker's voice, audible enough to be discerned miles away. The Sunlight Sect's senior cultivators collectively looked skyward, their gaze converging on the source of the taunting voice. There, they beheld a dark, enigmatic figure, shrouded in black, poised above the rooftops.
To the uninitiated, it appeared as if this figure were a mere illusion, yet he was indeed palpably real. His eyes emitted an aura of frigid ruthlessness, sparkling with malevolence. To him, it seemed that all life in the world amounted to nothing more than expendable flesh, subject to his will and the whims of his insidious intent..
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