The Ethereal Domains

Chapter 445: Who Wants My Head?

Who Wants My Head? . . .

Liu Changjun's voice dripped with a cold and sardonic tone as he addressed Yin Yucheng, "The world's fifth-ranked assassin, did you achieve that title through your gift of gab? What a surprise!"

In return, Yin Yucheng retorted with a cold and malevolent edge, "Liu Changjun, I have a single question for you. How did you manage to enhance your abilities so dramatically in such a short span? Tell me the truth, and I'll ensure your demise is swift and merciful."

His eyes gleamed with avarice.

[Is it through the use of special dan beads or a particular set of martial arts techniques? There must be a way for Liu Changjun to have improved so drastically. If he can do it, then I can too!]

[Liu Changjun, along with Ning Biluo and Zhao Pingtian, will meet their end today. If Boundless Saint succumbs during Ning Biluo's retaliation, it will be a perfect conclusion. I will ascend to the rank of the world's second-best assassin.]

[No, even better. If I can uncover the secret behind Liu Changjun's rapid advancement, I could potentially become the world's top assassin. The possibility exists, and it is tantalizingly close!]

Deep in thought, Yin Yucheng's eyes sparkled with the lust for power as he fixated on Liu Changjun, determined not to miss a single gesture or utterance.

Liu Changjun responded with a chuckle, "I do love to boast! It's been quite the boon for my progress." He paused for a moment and then spoke with overwhelming disdain, "I was once just like you, indulging in endless chatter, bragging, and yet I found myself improving. Hahaha. Hahaha."

His laughter oozed with derision and a wicked satisfaction.

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Unable to endure any more, Yin Yucheng drew his sword.

His sword was entirely black, and in the darkness, it seemed invincible, almost like a part of the night itself.

But before he could make a move, Liu Changjun had already lunged at him. Facing the world's fifth-ranked assassin, who held a higher position than himself, Liu Changjun boldly initiated the attack.

Meanwhile, within Ling-Bao Hall, a group of black-clad individuals stood alongside the walls on the highest floor.

In the central room of the building, Wan Zhenghao's massive frame almost filled the room as he peered intently at the events unfolding outside.

Long Tianyun voiced his question, "When should we make our move?"

[As an alliance with Ling-Bao Hall, we can't simply stand by, can we?]

[I can't fathom why Feng Monarch has us waiting here. The conflict outside is raging like a storm, and Ling-Bao Hall is teetering on the brink. It doesn't make sense for him to refrain from our assistance. If we were to intervene, we could have made a significant difference!]

Long Tianyun and his comrades weren't eager to engage. This wasn't just a mere feud in the martial world; it was a matter of life and death!

Once they stepped into the battle, it was highly probable they wouldn't make it out alive.

However, they were prepared to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their clans, even if it meant facing certain death.

Feng Monarch was present, and Wan Zhenghao had instructed them to await further orders.

Wan Zhenghao's voice quivered as he spoke, "I never suggested you stay out of the conflict." His expression was perturbed. "The issue is that our assailants are all martial world assassins. Both kingdoms and the hostile factions from the north and south hold deep animosity toward us. Yet, there is no sign of their forces thus far."

"None of the world's sects have made a move either," Wan Zhenghao furrowed his brow and continued, "This is not the right moment for you to intervene. The sects are currently biding their time, eagerly anticipating your entry. I cannot predict the consequences if you venture out now; they may worsen."

The room fell silent, each individual drawing a deep breath.

Wan Zhenghao's reasoning was sound, as uncomfortable as it was to acknowledge. Why had none of the major powers taken action yet?

Wan Zhenghao, who had lived for millennia, remained remarkably composed despite the dire situation. His calmness was astounding, a testament to his age and experience.

The plumpness of his cheeks trembled as he peered out of the window and declared, "Let us wait. Feng Monarch will make the final decision."

In his own way, Wan Zhenghao recognized that Feng Monarch had emerged as their pillar of support. Even Boss Wan, whose authority had been supplanted by Feng Zhiling, had come to accept this reality.

"Feng Monarch..." one of the representatives from the five clans muttered under his breath.

[Ling-Bao Hall is in grave danger, and it is vital to salvage the situation. If Feng Monarch is sensible, he will not appear here now. The fact that this place has not yet been overrun by the black-clad assassins is likely because the most formidable foes are awaiting the return of Feng Monarch, whose head carries a billion-dollar bounty.

When Feng Monarch does return, those assassins will undoubtedly be infuriated and swarm him, regardless of his capabilities. In that situation, even if he had three heads and six arms, his life would be in jeopardy.

At this juncture, Feng Zhiling could simply flee and find another opportunity to rebuild his reputation elsewhere. His ability to craft supreme dan beads would facilitate his career revival with ease!]

A deafening explosion interrupted these thoughts, emanating from the combatants on the roof.

Ning Biluo and Zhao Pingtian were growing increasingly agitated. Though they could hold their own, their continued engagement posed a threat to Ling-Bao Hall. With each passing moment, their combat prowess escalated, their strikes turning deadlier.

On the ground, Ling-Bao Hall faced mounting peril. If they did not descend to assist, their seven hundred members would meet a grim fate. This group included Liu Changjun, who was currently locked in combat with Yin Yucheng.

Suddenly, a powerful shout echoed from the distant sky. It was clear, resounding, calm, and dispassionate.

"Who has the audacity to assail my Ling-Bao Hall?"

All eyes, regardless of their allegiances or the shadows they concealed within, turned southward, where the voice had emanated.

It was the voice of Feng Monarch.

Finally, Feng Zhiling had arrived.

At the most precarious juncture, when all had presumed he would not appear and had fled for his life, he made his entrance.

In the southern night sky, a silhouette gracefully descended, his black robe billowing in the wind. His impassive eyes surveyed the onlookers from an elevated vantage point as he coolly inquired, "Who among you seeks to claim my head?"