Chapter 572 - 272 Corpse Immortal Heritage
Chapter 572 - 272 Corpse Immortal Heritage
Chapter 572: Chapter 272 Corpse Immortal Heritage
The sixth year of the Orthodox reign.
Spring.
The Governor of the Eastern Depot was ordered to return to the capital.
General Xie was promoted to the fourth-rank Martial General, and his subordinates each received promotions, commanded to garrison Lingnan.
Lingnan was a thousand miles away from the capital, and the intentions of the Orthodox Emperor were self-evident.
It was both a show of favor and a warning.
...
Upon hearing this, the martial arts sects cried tears of joy as if they were celebrating the New Year, thanking their ancestors for protecting their descendants through this calamitous time.
In just under two years, the number of experts who died or were injured, and the sects that were destroyed, amounted to more than a dozen major battles between the forces of good and evil.
The horror of military encirclements and surprise attacks had become a nightmare among the people of the martial world.
The Governor of the Eastern Depot was the master of their nightmares!
Those in the martial arts community who had lived through these two years no longer had the courage to provoke the Eastern Depot, but they refused to concede defeat, instead instilling thoughts of hatred and revenge in their disciples.
They eagerly awaited the rise of an unparalleled genius who would slay the Governor of the Eastern Depot and avenge their fallen comrades.
Isn’t that how it’s always written in the storybooks, that justice will eventually triumph over evil!
As for how many just people die before evil is defeated, that’s something no one pays attention to or cares about.@@@@
At the beginning of March.
Drizzle fell like smoke and mist.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop...
Over a hundred cavalrymen galloped on the imperial road, black horses, black conical hats, black cloaks, and standard-issue double sabers at their waists.
Agents of the Eastern Depot!
After recognizing the identity of the riders, whether they were scholars, officials, or wealthy merchants, everyone hurriedly made way with their vehicles, waiting by the roadside for the agents to disappear into the curtain of rain before daring to continue on their way.
The Eastern Depot, established three years into the Orthodox reign, had already reached a state of terrifying notoriety and overwhelming authority.
Zhou Yi’s thoughts stirred slightly, and he lifted the curtain to look ahead.
In the middle of the street lay a young man in white drenched in mud, clutching a jar of wine, mumbling incoherently while intoxicated.
Next to him, several burly men with fierce auras stood confronting the agents.
In all of Daqing, few entities could rival the Inspectorate, and the Prince of Pingxi’s household was one of them, with an influence so potent it was even said to surpass it.
Zhou Yi said coldly, “A few soldier ruffians also dare cause trouble in the capital, execute them!”
“At your command.”
The young seal bearer’s eyes glinted with cruelty as he leapt forward, drawing two short blades from his sleeves. With swift flashes of his knives, several corpses soon lay in the street.
“How dare you!”
The protectors from the Prince’s mansion, which had been hidden, rebuked sharply, hurrying to stand in front of Feng Ze to shield him from the young seal bearer, lest he harm the Princely Heir.
The young seal bearer stood in the rain, casting a contemptuous glance at the drunken Feng Ze.
The number one wastrel of the capital, such a man was only lucky in his birth; had it been otherwise, he likely would have died of cold or starvation in a year of famine.
“Dare to obstruct adoptive father’s path, no matter who it is, our household will not let it pass!”
Upon hearing this, the Eastern Depot agents advanced in unison, each drawing their sabers, ready to kill the Princely Heir of Pingxi at a single command.
“What a grand display of power from the Eastern Depot!”
The lead guard’s expression darkened, but outnumbered by the many agents, and with the situation against them, he signaled to have the Princely Heir carried away to clear the path.
Two guards propped up Feng Ze, their disregard evident as his legs dragged along the ground, carelessly placing him in a street corner.
Seeing this, the young seal bearer’s disdain grew only stronger; even the guards from the Prince’s mansion looked down on the Princely Heir—he truly was a dog son of a tiger father of Daqing.
The sedan continued, but Zhou Yi watched the drunken Feng Ze intently.
His Breath Listening Technique had already been perfected, allowing him to discern the heartbeat of others clearly. Feng Ze’s pulse was strong and stable, akin to that of an expert martial artist, nothing like the good-for-nothing described in rumors.
On closer inspection, the mud on Feng Ze’s body was merely superficial, and the inner layer of his clothing remained as clean as new.
Zhou Yi flicked a strand of True Qi, sending it across the distance towards Feng Ze’s chest, to test whether the other party was concealing his strength or simply bluffing.
The True Qi hit Feng Ze but disappeared without a trace, failing even to rip the outer garment.
Feng Ze, sensing this, slowly opened his bleary eyes, meeting Zhou Yi’s gaze, his expression a mix of resignation, determination, and ruthlessness.
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