Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents

Chapter 292: Chapter 290: Exterminating a Clan

After a long moment, he forcibly suppressed his surging rage. The terrifying aura around him slowly receded, but his gaze only grew more sinister and cold.

"I am... aware of this matter."

Tu Baichuan’s voice had returned to its usual calm, yet it was somehow more unsettling than before.

"You are dismissed."

As if granted a pardon, Zhao Kun hurriedly bowed and retreated, not daring to stay a moment longer.

Once again, Tu Baichuan was alone in the Quiet Chamber.

He slowly leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes, his face twisting in the shadows.

"Fang Han..."

He muttered to himself, his voice like the hiss of a venomous snake.

’I’ll let you be arrogant for a little while longer... The moment you show a weakness will be the day you regret everything!’

Outside, the sky had darkened. Dark clouds were gathering, and the faint rumble of thunder rolled across the horizon, heralding an approaching storm.

The enmity between Fang Han and the Dean of the Shen Courtyard was now completely out in the open, with no possibility of reconciliation.

Amidst the Sect’s hidden undercurrents, a new confrontation had become inevitable.

...

The moonlight was the color of blood, spilling across the sky above Lin Family Manor.

What should have been a silent night was torn asunder by shrill screams, the sharp snap of breaking weapons, and a horrifying, gurgling sucking sound.

Scattered fires flickered to life within the manor, illuminating a hellish scene.

Bodies lay strewn about, their blood soaking the earth. Each corpse was unnaturally shriveled, as if drained of all moisture and life.

A figure stood there, his face covered by a ferocious Evil Ghost mask. From behind its eyeholes, his eyes glowed with a bloodthirsty crimson. It was Chu Feng.

He moved like a phantom, darting through the manor with a bizarre, blood-red glow swirling around his fingertips.

Wherever he passed, anyone in his path—be they manor guards fighting back or panicked women and children fleeing in terror—was ensnared by the blood-red glow and reduced to a desiccated corpse in an instant.

Like a hundred rivers flowing to the sea, a dense torrent of blood energy surged into his body. The aura he emitted grew more sinister, cold, and violent, yet beneath the brutality was a hint of morbid satisfaction.

When the last faint wail was abruptly silenced, Lin Family Manor fell into a dead silence. All that remained was the crackling of flames and the thick, suffocating stench of blood.

Chu Feng stood atop the roof of the manor’s ancestral hall. He removed his mask and took a deep breath. The blood energy in the air brought a twisted look of both ecstasy and euphoria to his face.

"Haaa..."

He slowly exhaled a breath thick with the stench of blood. He could feel the crimson Inner Qi raging inside him, swelling to a critical point as it battered against an invisible barrier.

’Fourth Grade... It’s within my grasp!’

Chu Feng clenched his fists, his knuckles white with excitement, a fanatical gleam in his eyes.

’One or two more... I just need to wipe out one or two more vassal families of this size, absorb enough blood energy, and I’ll definitely break through!’

He could already picture it: after breaking through to the Fourth Grade, his power would soar. He would crush Fang Han underfoot, humiliating and torturing him to death as he pleased.

’It’s not enough to just defeat him. I have to find a chance when he’s away from the Sect and erase him completely, without a soul knowing!’

The thought of Fang Han’s calm face twisting in despair sent a near-shuddering wave of pleasure through Chu Feng.

"Fang Han... Just you wait. Your time is coming!"

He let out a low, savage laugh, put his Evil Ghost mask back on, and melted into the night. Like a true evil ghost, he stalked off toward his next potential target.

Leaving a scene of silent, dead ruins in his wake.

...

The morning sun dispersed the quiet tranquility within Courtyard No. 35 of the Qingxuan Sect.

In the courtyard, Fang Han’s aura was perfectly controlled and restrained. He was savoring the closer connection to the winds of heaven and earth he felt now that his *Nine Swords of Sky Splitting* had reached the Mastery level.

The sound of light yet hurried footsteps came from outside. A servant approached quickly and reported with a bow,

"Senior Brother Fang, Elder Zhou Jin of the Law Enforcement Hall requests your presence. He asks that you go to the Hall at once."

Fang Han opened his eyes, a flicker of green light flashing deep within them before vanishing.

’Elder Zhou Jin?’

A thought stirred in his mind.

He had a vague recollection of this Elder.

A year ago, a shipment of Spirit Iron from the Spirit Iron Mine had been swapped for ordinary stones en route to the Sect. He and several other disciples on escort duty had been falsely accused. It was this very Elder Zhou Jin who had presided over the investigation and ultimately cleared their names.

He remembered a solemn-faced old man with sharp eyes who handled matters with impartial justice.

"Understood."

Fang Han’s tone was calm. He straightened his robes, hung the Flowing Wind Sword at his waist, and left the courtyard, making his way toward the Law Enforcement Hall.

The great hall of the Law Enforcement Hall was as solemn and imposing as he remembered. The air was thick with the faint scent of sandalwood and an invisible, oppressive might.

Elder Zhou Jin sat upon the grand red sandalwood chair at the head of the hall. Though his hair and beard were white, his complexion was ruddy. His eyes were gentle yet profound, and his aura, as deep as an abyss and steady as a mountain, inspired awe and reverence.

"Disciple Fang Han pays his respects to Elder Zhou."

Fang Han took a few steps forward, stopped at the foot of the dais, and bowed. His bearing was neither servile nor arrogant.

"Nephew Fang, there’s no need for such ceremony. Please, sit."

Elder Zhou Jin’s gaze fell upon Fang Han, sizing him up. Deep within his gentle eyes, a flicker of nearly imperceptible amazement and admiration passed.

He began to speak slowly, his voice calm yet carrying a natural authority.

"Thank you, Elder."

Fang Han did as instructed, taking a seat in a pearwood chair below the dais with a poised and steady demeanor.

"Nephew Fang, this is only our second meeting. It’s hard to believe it has only been a little over a year."

Elder Zhou Jin stroked his beard and sighed softly, his gaze seeming to pierce through time.

"In that time, you have gone from an ordinary Sub-Branch disciple to a name on the Celestial Pride List, a pillar of our Sect."

His words held genuine wonder, not mere empty pleasantries.

To go from an ordinary disciple to a Celestial Pride True Inheritor—whose status was on par with a powerful Sect Elder—in little more than a year... such a leap was nothing short of legendary.