Chapter Seventy-Four: The Old Taoist Appears

Chapter Seventy-Four: The Old Taoist Appears

“That’s a spatial treasure! This boy possesses a spatial treasure.”

At once, the people around stared at Shen An in astonishment.

It must be noted that among all these people, apart from Li Yuanshan, not a single one owned a spatial treasure. The one Li Yuanshan had was a gift from the sect master himself, reserved for the designated heir to the sect—a treasure belonging to the sect master. Now, this outsider actually had a spatial treasure as well. How could this not shock them?

“Who is this outsider, truly?” Li Yuanshan pondered, uncertainty clouding his mind.

While he was lost in thought, Shen An suddenly erupted with power. He had realized that the man called Li Yuanshan was truly formidable, far beyond his own strength. He needed to catch them off guard and escape at once.

In a flash, Shen An unleashed his full strength—power nearing the mid-third rank. His sudden explosion sent an opponent flying. In that instant, Shen An spotted a gap unguarded on the other side and darted toward it.

Only then did Li Yuanshan react. He moved unhurriedly, merely casting a glance in Shen An’s direction, a faint smile curling at his lips. But before his smile had faded, he vanished from where he stood.

In the next moment, he stood in Shen An’s path.

“Where do you think you’re going? Come back!” With a thunderous shout, Shen An immediately felt blood streaming from his ears and nose—the very force of the man’s voice had injured him.

Such an opponent was truly terrifying. Shen An swore that, even in Silver City, he had never encountered an expert of such caliber. In fact, not only Silver City—even in all of China, it would be nigh impossible to find someone this strong.

A growing sense of unease crept over Shen An. He dared not be careless in the slightest. He instantly shut off his five senses, drew his black iron blade, and his eyes flashed coldly.

Within Shen An’s gaze, his eyes gradually turned a golden hue. Under the strain of his spiritual power, his ability to see through illusions was pushed to its limits.

“How interesting,” Li Yuanshan murmured softly.

Suddenly, Li Yuanshan’s sword flashed forth, a blade of light forming in an instant and cleaving toward Shen An with unimaginable speed. There was no way for Shen An to dodge.

He stared wide-eyed, fixated on his opponent’s movements. The moment the sword light appeared, blood streamed from his eyes—he had seen his own death.

With a jolt, Shen An bit his tongue, regaining clarity just as the sword light closed in. He raised his black iron blade in desperate defense.

The moment his blade met the sword light, it was instantly shattered by the overwhelming force, reduced to fragments.

As the black iron blade broke, another identical blade appeared in Shen An’s hand, continuing to block the sword light. The second blade, the third, the fourth… up to the tenth.

Only after the tenth blade was destroyed did he finally withstand Li Yuanshan’s attack.

At this point, Shen An’s hands trembled uncontrollably. He felt utterly spent, as if doused in ice-cold water, a chill radiating through his body.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Before Shen An could catch his breath, Li Yuanshan appeared before him once more. This time, he did not draw his sword; instead, he reached out with his hand, which transformed into a claw, lunging for Shen An’s throat.

An inexplicable urge surged within Shen An, as if he was compelled to offer his neck willingly.

Suddenly, he realized something was wrong and struggled against the compulsion.

Li Yuanshan smiled wickedly, like a demon. “Outsider, today you die by my hand.”

With those words, his claw tightened in mid-air.

Crack!

The sound of shattering bones rang out. Shen An hurriedly opened his eyes and felt his neck—he was unharmed.

His gaze shifted forward.

Before him, the whisk in the middle-aged Taoist’s hand shattered into pieces.

Shen An did not see the man’s face clearly, but from his back, he recognized him—it was the Taoist who lived on Phoenix Mountain.

For a moment, Shen An’s mind went blank.

“Go! Leave this place at once. There is a path behind you that I have opened,” the Taoist said, shoving Shen An backward with great force.

Shen An felt the powerful energy radiating from the man. As he retreated, he looked toward Li Yuanshan.

In an instant, Li Yuanshan flew into a rage.

“Old man, you dare to help an outsider!” Roaring furiously, he attacked. The Taoist, now without his whisk, met him barehanded.

The others, seeing Shen An retreating, rushed after him. They were no minor threat themselves—Shen An fended off several waves of attacks as he withdrew.

Just as he was about to break free, a burly man appeared on his left.

“Outsider, let’s see where you run now!” The man swung his massive hammer at Shen An’s head, filling him with despair.

“Space—”

Before the word was fully out, Shen An suddenly felt a hand reach from behind, grab his collar, and yank him out with great force.

Pop!

It was as if he had broken through some barrier; Shen An felt as though he had surfaced from underwater, bursting through a membrane at last to see the familiar world again.

Startled, he looked up to see the young Taoist.

Before Shen An could thank him, tears began streaming uncontrollably down the young Taoist’s face. The boy wiped his eyes, staring ahead.

“Master!” he cried in agony.

Shen An looked back—there was nothing, the place was empty. He knew the Taoist had not returned.

A wave of guilt washed over Shen An. He sighed, sorrow welling up within him.

“My master is gone.”

The young Taoist, Xiao Miao, wept as he clawed at the stones on the ground.

Shen An said nothing, keeping him silent company.

Only when Xiao Miao was spent did he stare blankly at the ground.

After a long while, Xiao Miao looked up at Shen An.

“My master told me to follow you,” he said.

Shen An remained silent.

Xiao Miao continued, “My name is Xiao Miao. I have no Taoist title. My master foresaw something—a calamity. He knew he couldn’t escape it, so he told me to follow you from now on.”

Hearing this, Shen An felt only a deep sense of guilt.

The Taoist had died saving him.

Trapped in that place, even with his formidable power, Shen An could not believe the Taoist had any chance of survival.

“I’m sorry,” Shen An said sincerely, bowing his head toward the direction from which they had come.

Then, he lifted his head, clenching his fists.

“Li Shan Sect.” The words were spoken so only he could hear, his fists tightening ever more.

Suddenly, Shen An’s vision went dark, and he collapsed to the ground.

The next morning, Shen An finally awoke.

He looked around, deep in thought.

He turned his mind inward, into his spatial realm.

There, beside the lake within, a small pool had appeared. Inside the pool was the “spiritual spring” he had absorbed that day.