My Disciples Are All Villains
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chapter-390
Who was an expert?
Lu Zhou gave the others an earnest demonstration of what it meant to be an expert.
Leng Luo and Pan Litian had trouble keeping Kong Yuan at bay. However, Kong Yuan seemed so defenseless before Lu Zhou.
They suddenly remembered a question in their minds. Everyone had been talking about how the Patriarch of the Evil Sky Pavilion’s great limit was at hand. Every year, they guessed and they probed, but they were never right. Every time, they would find an excuse to attack. The excuse was the truth that everyone believed in; the 1,000-year limit.
Under ordinary circumstances, a cultivator’s cultivation base would deteriorate rapidly in the final 100 years of their lives. How did the pavilion master manage to maintain his cultivation base? There was another possibility; the Evil Sky Pavilion’s Patriarch had truly found a way to attain the Nine-leaf stage.If they had not seen this with their own eyes, they would never believe that the Evil Sky Pavilion’s Master was capable of such a terrifying display of power.
The three men of the Old Age Pavilion thought of the same phrase at the same time; the villains had returned to his peak. Perhaps, at the pavilion master’s level, his control over his powers had returned to his natural state.
There was no grand execution or flashy display of energy bursts.
Just like before, when Ba Ma charged toward Lu Zhou, he drew Unnamed across Ba Ma’s body. Just like what he told Yu Shangrong; if he wanted to kill his opponent, all he had to do was to swing his sword with force alone. Unnamed’s sharpness exceeded the understanding of the people gathered present on the scene.
Crack!
A sound that resembled bamboo plants being hacked off rang in the air. It was crisp and satisfying.
The satisfaction they felt could hardly be put into words. The people of the Evil Sky Pavilion felt, for the first time, just how wonderful this cracking sound was. It was so wonderful that the weights immediately lifted from their shoulders.The witchcraft genius of Lou Lan, Ba Ma, had died.
The surroundings of the Evil Sky Pavilion fell silent.
Lu Zhou looked at the blood-cultivated body on the boulder and felt no sympathy. Witchcraft had light and dark sides. Unfortunately, Ba Ma chose the path of darkness.
“Your amazing might knows no bounds, master! My horizons have been widened!” Zhu Honggong was the first to break the silence.
The others looked at Zhu Honggong.
“Uh, can’t help it... can’t help it...” Zhu Honggong scratched his head. When he did that, he cried out in pain. The chiseled surface of the boxing gloves proved to be hazardous.
This was not the time for flattery. After all, they could still see the puppets moving forward albeit at a slow pace. Without the spellcaster controlling them, the puppets surrounded them like robots.
There were too many of them. They had shocking defenses as well. If they were to kill the puppets one by one, who knew how long it would take?
Lu Zhou looked at the purple mist in the sky and the avatar under him. He stroked his beard and said, “Whitzard.”
Roar!
Whitzard, standing on auspicious clouds and bathed in Auspicious Qi, flew above the purple mist.
The scene that unfolded during the battle with the Ten Shamans was reenacted.
Hua Wudao widened his eyes. He looked at Whitzard scattering its Auspicious Qi.
The purple mist was being pushed down by the Auspicious Qi until it was on the ground.
Without the support from the purple mist, the puppets fell to the ground.
The process took quite a while. When the purple mist was completely gone, and all of the puppets had dropped to the ground, Whitzard let out a long howl... As though it knew it had completed its mission, it flew back and vanished into the darkness.
Lu Zhou noticed that Whitzard’s status was shown as resting on the dashboard. He guessed that it would last seven days again.
The others looked in the direction where Whitzard vanished. They were slightly stunned. They rubbed their eyes.
‘Isn’t this too great of a prank? Why wasn’t this done sooner?’
Naturally, Lu Zhou had his own intentions. If he unleashed Whitzard, Ba Ma would most likely turn tail and run. Taking care of Ba Ma before these puppets was the best course of action. As he looked at the puppets on the ground, he shook his head. He had lost a lot in this battle. There were no rewards of merit points, and he brought much trouble upon himself. That was not all. The purple mist had absorbed half of the plants’ lifespans in the area. Many trees were now dried and withered.
Xu Jing took a few steps forward and slowly descended to the ground. He looked at the corpses strewn on the ground and sighed. He straightened his palm and said, “Amitabha!”
“Old monk, what’s there to be Amitabha-ing about?” Zhu Honggong was creeped out by the bodies.
“They were controlled by Ba Ma and had no quarrels with me while they were still of this world. All of this is that grand shaman’s mistake.”
Zhu Honggong nodded, “I think you have a point.”
Xu Jing turned around in midair, faced Lu Zhou, and said, “Benefactor Ji, virtue lies in all living things. Everything comes in a circle in its own time. I’m willing to set up an altar at the foot of the mountain to help these souls find peace. Please grant your permission, benefactor.”
Lu Zhou surveyed the surroundings. The dead deserved respect. In the end, he replied, “Alright.”
“Thank you, benefactor.” Xu Jing straightened up and said in a clear voice, “On behalf of the deceased, I thank all the benefactors here.”
“Old monk, you’re something else... I’ll leave them to you, then.”
“It is but my duty.”
Mingshi Yin looked at Xu Jing and said, “You’re the first monk whom I can actually tolerate.”
Lu Zhou returned to the Evil Sky Pavilion.
“Safe journey, Pavilion Master.”
“Safe journey, master.”
When Lu Zhou was finally out of sight, the others sighed with relief.
“Old Pan, are you alright?” Leng Luo noticed Pan Litian’s exhausted state.
“I won’t die from this.” Pan Litian gripped his Wine Gourd tightly. He coughed twice before he rose to his feet.
Pan Zhong flew down to support Pan Litian. He said, “Don’t push yourself too hard when your cultivation base isn’t restored yet.”
Pan Litian was not angered by this. He laughed. “However... in many circumstances, you can only know if you’re capable of surviving an ordeal when you push yourself to the limit.”
“Don’t try to fill my head with wild arguments. I’ll help you get back.”
The other disciples looked on as Pan Litian and Pan Zhong flew back to the Evil Sky Pavilion.
At this moment, Hua Yuexing descended from above the sky of Evil Sky Pavilion. She recalled her Falling Moon Bow and shook her head. She had much work to do. Throughout that battle, she had only killed a limited number of puppets.
Hua Wudao walked up to her and said, “Don’t give up. Those were the pavilion master’s direct disciples. They can’t be compared to the conventional standard of talent.”
“Oh.”
...
Meanwhile, Lu Zhou returned to the eastern pavilion.
The two swings of his sword did not seem to contain great power, but it did deplete two-third of his extraordinary power. After all, the power was capable of besting an Eight-leaf opponent. Moreover, this was on top of wielding Unnamed.
He flipped his palm. Unnamed hovered above his hand.
The black rune?
Lu Zhou remembered the scene in the Mausoleum of Swords. Unnamed had absorbed all of the Demon Sword’s black runes and converted them to its own energy. Was it sharpened because of this?
With a thought, Unnamed turned into a hammer. It was not covered in runes when it took the shape of other weapons. He put Unnamed away.
Lu Zhou cleared his mind of distracting thoughts. He sat with his legs crossed and entered his Heavenly Writing’s meditation state.
This time, he used a Deadly Strike Card and an Impeccable Card. The number of item cards he had was decreasing. Judging by the current prices, he would run out of cards sooner or later. All he could rely on was the extraordinary power. He had to think of a way to improve his cultivation base.
...
Early the next morning.
Lu Zhou had just opened his eyes when a voice reached him from the other side of the door.
“Master, Xu Jing requests an audience.”
“Alright.” Lu Zhou stood up and gauged his extraordinary power. It had merely increased a little after a night’s worth of meditation. He was slightly worried about the pace of his meditation. Could this have something to do with the fourth Open Heavenly Writing scroll? Would the pace improve with every opened scroll? However, he did not dwell upon this. Instead, he left the eastern pavilion.
He stood outside the great hall and saw a lively scene.
A crowd was gathered between the two majestic stone pillars outside the great hall. They wore monks’ robes.
Golden Court Mountain was not a small mountain. There were several thousand square meters before the great hall. However, it was completely occupied by the monks.
‘What is this about?’
The great hall faced the east so the morning sun shone on the Evil Sky Pavilion.
Lu Zhou walked slowly toward them.
Xu Jing emerged from the crowd, straightened a palm, and said, “Amitabha.”
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