The Immortal Emperor Returns Chapter 238 - Take Charge of the Fire Dragon Palace

Chapter 238 Take Charge of the Fire Dragon Palace

Everything happened so quickly that it caught everyone by surprise.
The first sensation that jerked them back to the present was the gelidity of the cold sweat that slicked their limbs.
The end of the long silver spear sparkled an icy glow under the brisk sunlight, and its tip is driven deep into the rock face a hundred meters away.
There was Song Ding, a First-Grade Human King, with his corpse now ignominiously pinned to the wall of rock like a rag doll.
Every head spun in unison. Their senses tingled simultaneously, alerting them to the presence of a stranger.
And they saw a youthful figure approaching casually.
War Tiger’s eyes shot wide with recognition and surprise when he saw who it was.
“Sir!”
“It’s been a long time.” Chu Xun looked at him and nodded acknowledgingly.
He flicked his finger and sent a spurt of Immortal Qi into War Tiger.
“Th-Thank you, Dear Sir!” War Tiger gasped hastily. The shot of Immortal Qi entered him and was rapidly rejuvenating his strength.
Chu Xun merely chuckled lightly, his head shaking.
Yan Chong and his cohorts stared at Chu Xun closely, each of them ransacking their minds for plans quietly.
Chu Xun waved a hand and the silver spear shook and dislodged itself from the rock, racing back at its master, leaving Song Ding’s lifeless body to slide down into a heap with a long smear of deep-scarlet blood leading downwards.
Holding his spear, Chu Xun swung it around and aimed it at Yan Chong. The latter winced at the sight of its tip trembling with a low, deadly hum, then it swept aside, aiming at Zuo Ziqiu this time.
“Both of you together. Come on,” Chu Xun called nonchalantly.
“And who might you be?” asked Yan Chong.
Chu Xun’s Internal Breath seemed as if it hardly stirred, but the two men knew better than to be reckless. Whoever this was, he had killed Song Ding with one single stroke. A surprise attack or not, they could both well agree that this stranger was no stranger to being ruthless and shrewd.
“Afraid?” Chu Xun muttered. With a curt snort, he drove the end of his spear into the ground and left it there before taking two steps away for good measure. “How about this?”
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow both were stunned beyond speech. “Is he going to fight Yan Chong and Zuo Ziqiu at the same time with his bare hands?!”
Yet, War Tiger’s eyes burned with excitement and anticipation. “After more than ten years, I could finally see him in action again. What heights has he reached now?”
Yan Chong and Zuo Ziqiu traded furtive glances, both looking similarly insulted. No matter how they looked, challenging two Human Kings, especially when one of them had a Sacred Relic, seemed nothing more than suicide to them.
Whoosh!
Burgeoning with bitterness, Zuo Ziqiu raised his sword at Chu Xun.
Yan Chong stepped beside him, the Eight Trigrams Bronze Mirror clutched tightly in his grasp gleaming brilliantly.
“As if I’d give a damn to who you are! You killed a member of the Sifang Sword Sect and for that, you’ll pay!” screamed Zuo Ziqiu, as venomous as a snake as he swung his sword.
“You talk too much,” observed Chu Xun casually.
The blade of Zuo Ziqiu’s sword trembled. Then he took one step and vanished. As fast as lightning, he charged, causing the ground to crack and shatter with his every step, and he thrust his sword at Chu Xun, sending Sword Qi bolts ahead.
The first barrage of Sword Qi came first and its destructive energy could have easily made anyone numb with fear.
But Chu Xun only raised a hand. Purple tendrils of Immortal Qi curled around his forearm and he delivered a punch, sending a magical bolt of his own.
Pfft!
The crushing might of Chun Xun’s magical bolt dissolved the first volley of Sword Qi with as much effort as water dousing fire, and it went on hitting Zuo Ziqiu’s sword, throwing up sparks and sickening groans of steel gnashing on steel.
Zuo Ziqiu’s expression shifted. Whoever this was, and no matter how hard his fists might be, his sword could slice through steel like a hot knife through butter and yet it failed to injure the stranger’s hands. Before he realized it, a surge of energy washed down his blade, heading straight for his hand!
He channeled his powers quickly to cancel out the transmission of energy through the sword, only he failed. An explosive bang resounded, and he grunted with pain; the foreign force battered through the magical force he channeled to defend himself and he wobbled backwards for tens of meters, with fissures cracking under his feet, until the force finally dissipated completely.
Zuo Ziqiu’s eyes flooded with apprehension. The enemy’s strength was great. Far greater than he expected that even after one exchange of blows, the enemy’s magical energies could transmit through the steel of his sword and injured him so badly that his sword arm still trembled from the shock.
Even Yan Chong, who was about to lunge, could not help but abandon any thoughts of attack after seeing how effortless Zuo Ziqiu was subdued.
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow could not quite believe their eyes. The same Zuo Ziqiu, who had defeated them with ease was now overpowered by only one punch? But how? The stranger looked as young as a teenager!?
War Tiger was the only one, who despite his racing breaths and eyes hot with excitement, did not feel anything wrong.
“You’re too weak,” Chu Xun muttered. His words were simple and direct without any hint of insulting Zuo Ziqiu and not without reason: Zuo Ziqiu was simply too weak if compared to Cui Xingyi, another member of the Sifang Sword Sect whom he slew before.
Zuo Ziqiu’s face ran red with shame and despair. He had never once been so humiliated before in battle as a Human King.
“INSOLENCE!” he bellowed.
His sword shone with cold fury as he swung it in quick, deadly strokes, and countless magical bolts shot from its tip, hurtling like multitudes of arrows that the air trembled at their destructiveness.
Swoosh!
The sky grew dim with the countless of Sword Qi silhouettes—each forged in the shape of swords—filling every inch overhead. The air quivered at the burgeoning amount of magical energies and the swords hummed like a swan-song of utter devastation and carnage.
“Shadow Sword Technique, fall!”
The legion of swords fell as one at Zuo Ziqiu’s signal, filling the skies with icy sparkles and the frigid malice of Death as they swarmed towards Chu Xun.
Chu Xun simpered indifferently. It was hardly his first time facing the Shadow Sword Technique and he wondered if the Sifang Sword Sect did not have much to offer to its students.
He raised a finger and traced the runic script of a word with as much composure as an artist painting a work of art.
Boom! Boom!
With his final swish to complete the spell, the air rumbled and a cold wave of malice rolled forth as a purplish rune appeared in midair: the rune for “Sha”—the rune meaning “kill”.
The Formula of Kill spell.
Chu Xun pointed his finger, as if to give it a little tap.
A thunderous roar came from the rune and an unnatural wind, carrying a funereal aura reeking of death, swept across the battlefield. Then it grew. Formerly the size of a man’s fist, the rune now looked as large as a dining table as its girth continued swelling and so did the strange, murderous aura.
Bang! Bang...!
The thousands of Sword Qi slammed into the “Sha” rune like raindrops pelting on a roof, erupting into multi-colored splashes like fireworks if not for the deafening waves of shock and storms of energy dregs that came from each collision.
The huge “Sha” rune flashed furiously in the sky and every Sword Qi that collided futilely with it only seemed to make it stronger. The air was filled with its gargantuan girth and thick with its presence and before long, nothing left of the whole legion of Sword Qis that earlier crammed the sky; every single one of them had been completely obliterated into nothing.
Zuo Ziqiu’s face fell. Panicking, he stepped unsteadily backwards, as if his knees were buckling and the gigantic “Sha” rune bore down on him like an eagle swooping down on its prey, punching into the ground where he stood with the force of an avalanche.
Boom!
Both Heaven and Earth quivered at the devastating explosion that the sun was partially obscured by the mist of dust that rose in its wake and a long, wide fissure gashed along the surface of the ground.
Zuo Ziqiu had managed to escape, but he could not quite evade from the shock wave of the explosion that hit him and he shuddered, coughing up a huge mouthful of blood.
Roars of dragons reverberated through the air suddenly, and Chu Xun found himself surrounded by eight golden dragons.
Yan Chong had played the same trick again to ambush Chu Xun!
Chu Xun threw his arms forth and a series of popping noises crackled in the air around him: with the bones in his body vibrating in resonance with the Hong Meng Immortal Qi, he expelled his Inner Breath through the pores of his skin all around him, forming a protective mail that gave off a purplish-gold sheen.
He leaped into the air, and formed several hand seals—prerequisites to his next spell—and astonishingly, more rumbles of dragon roars came from inside him.
He threw forth a fist, letting loose a bolt of Immortal Qi that shaped like a fist that screamed through the air.
Bang!
One of the eight golden silhouettes shaped like dragons exploded into golden cinders and vanished.
Bang! Bang...!
More Immortal Qi projectiles shaped like fists rained down. Seven bolts—each of them found their mark, taking out each of the remaining golden dragon-like silhouettes in a string of explosions.
Lastly, Chu Xun blasted another Immortal Qi bolt at Yan Chong and the powerful purple fist-like shadow barreled straight at him.
Bang!
The purple fist-like projectile smashed through Yan Chong’s protective aura as if it was made of glass and smote deep into his chest, sending the man flying into the air and the Eight Trigrams Bronze Mirror fell out of his clutches.
Chu Xun held out a hand and beckoned. The bronze mirror wriggled and magically flew to him.
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow stared on bewilderedly. “He was too powerful. Too exceedingly powerful.”
“G-G-Give me back my Sacred Relic,” Yan Chong croaked amidst his pain. Blood boiled inside him as his Internal Breath, now churning with chaos like a wild horse, almost forcing him to cough up more blood. He had gone through great lengths to attain the Sacred Relic and he would never allow it to fall into Chu Xun’s hands. He sprang up and clawed at it.
Hum!
The bronze mirror gave off a sudden brilliance of gold, shining so brightly that everything in the range of hundreds of meters was engulfed in a huge tidal wave of golden light.
The air shook with eight resounding bellows of dragons and the air and ground, notwithstanding everyone present, trembled with fear. Eight golden silhouettes of dragons tunneled up the skies, and watching from a distance, Lei Bao and Winsome Widow felt themselves suffocating at the dragons’ intimidating splendor in full display as if a huge rock was pressing down their chests. Ahead of them, Yan Chong, who had tried to reclaim the Sacred Relic, felt his legs turned to lead and his knees buckling as if he had fallen down a bog of quicksand. Perspiration formed on his forehead and drizzled down his face.
Chu Xun raised a hand and held it down like he was pressing down hard on something.
The eight golden dragons bore down menacingly as if they were homing in on a prey and the staggering intensity of the force they wielded pounded the ground relentlessly, creating more cracks and fissures.
Yan Chong’s eyes looked bloodshot with thick, red veins and he could barely move an inch, and his hairs were standing on their ends.
Eight golden dragons surrounded him from overhead, their shining brilliance reaching every corner of the skies and they swooped down like the fearsome and awesome beasts they were.
Boom! Boom!
Eight terrible explosions threatened to flatten the canyons in the vicinity of Maple Mountain, and when the explosions finally ended, all that was left were fumes and smog of dust and soot that blotted out the Sun.
It took some time until the smoke and dust finally settled and everyone looked, their faces all aghast with consternation.
Yan Chong remained unscathed, standing alone like a stone effigy, and not far away behind him was a huge crater more than tens of meters wide.
Plop!
Yan Chong’s knees failed him at last and he slunk to down, kneeling dejectedly, still lost in disbelief. He had really believed himself to be dying. For all their might and pomposity, Human Kings were no different from ordinary folk in the face of Life and Death.
He had unequivocally felt the destructiveness of Chu Xun’s powers when the eight dragon-like silhouettes brushed dangerously close-by. Any two of them could have easily seen him reduced into an unrecognizable mass of flesh and blood.
Chu Xun chuckled with slight derision.
“Who, who are you?” a bloodied Zuo Ziqiu stammered, rising from the ground defiantly by using his sword as a walking stick.
“Chu Xun.”
Chu Xun revealed as a-matter-of-factly.
“Devil Chu from Hell...”
“Chu the Ruthless...”
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow’s cry rose in unison.
The news of Chu Xun’s exploits in slaying Human Kings with ease had blazed through the world of Martial Tao and what he did haunted everyone within the circle that it was impossible for anyone to not have heard of the name before.
Yan Chong inhaled slowly with terror as if breathing had suddenly turned into a strenuous exertion.
Zuo Ziqiu’s eyes shot wide. “No wonder! No wonder he wields such might!”
Chu Xun stowed away the Eight Trigrams Bronze Mirror. With a cursory glance at Yan Chong, he muttered dispassionately, “This belongs to a friend of mine.”
That startled Yan Chong to the brink of tears, and he had only his luck to curse for such misfortune.
“I have come to assume leadership of the Fire Dragon Palace,” Chu Xun declared himself.
Lei Bao and Winsome Widows shared disbelieving glances.
Whereas Yan Chong and Zuo Ziqiu could hardly lift their heads up and they could hardly dare utter any syllable, let alone protest.
“Please. If you have any objections, kindly put them forward,” said Chu Xun with a calmness so eerie as if Death would come for him at the slightest hint of any outcry.
“I have no objections,” War Tiger remarked readily, the only one pleased at the unexpected outcome, “Squad Purple Phoenix agrees for Master Chu Xun to be Lord of Fire Dragon Palace.”
“The Demon from Hell... leading the Fire Dragon Palace...” Winsome Widow murmured loudly, before she broke into a demure smile, “Squad Flaming Fox stands by the vote as well.”
Winsome Widow understood full well that nothing could stop Chu Xun in his bid to take over Fire Dragon Palace today.
Gratefully, Chu Xun responded with a slight nod. He flicked a finger and sent a small jet of Immortal Qi into her forehead.
Her expression turned rapidly into one of pleasant surprise. Overjoyed, she gasped, “Thank you so much, my Lord!”
Lei Bao’s expression wavered uncertainly. His gaze traveled to Winsome Widow, as if wishing for advice, and the latter quickly shot him a knowing look and he caught her gist immediately. Clasping his fists in salute, he said loudly, “Squad Torrid Tempest pledges fealty to you too, Immortal Chu, to be Master of Fire Dragon Palace.”
Chu Xun nodded approvingly and shot another tiny burst of Immortal Qi into Lei Bao to help him heal his wounds.
“I, too, am willing to swear you my fealty, Immortal Chu,” Yan Chong declared anxiously although he fell silent almost right after, eyeing Chu Xun warily with dread.
Lei Bao and Winsome Widow too watched with equal foreboding. They were all aware of Chu Xun’s bloody reputation.
But Chu Xun did not say a word and the silence only served to enhance the palpable tension that Yan Chong felt his pounding heart was at a mere hair’s breadth away from racing up his throat.
Chu Xun had never been known to be benevolent or merciful before.
Beads of sweat rained down Yan Chong’s forehead as if he had just stepped out of a rain and he shivered violently and nervously like a prisoner awaiting his death sentence.
“I accept your fealty,” Chu Xun answered suddenly.
Stunned, Yan Chong looked genuinely shocked by the response and he exhaled heavily with relief. He would have collapsed from anxiety if Chu Xun chose to remain silent and the man’s presence weighed down on him with the heaviness of a mountain which was horrible enough to crush him.
Winsome Widow and Lei Bao looked at each other and they both caught in each other’s eyes the same surprise that they shared—laced with a tinge of despair at watching one as dignified and powerful as a Human King being shamefully trampled upon.
“Give me a drop of your blood,” said Chu Xun out of nowhere.
Puzzled, Yan Chong nevertheless did as he was told. He squeezed his fingers and forced out a single drop of his blood.
With a lazy wave, the drop of blood floated into the air to Chu Xun who made several hand seals. The deep-red globule shone radiantly suddenly as if it was going to burst.
Then he flicked his finger and the droplet of blood shot straight into Yan Chong’s head right between his brows.
Yan Chong felt himself shuddering involuntarily. What was that?! Something has been added into his mind, although he could not quite put a finger to it, except for an uncanny sensation of chill clinging to his back.
“You,” Chu Xun motioned to Zuo Ziqiu, “Come hither.”
With his grievous wounds, Zuo Ziqiu knew that he has no hope of escaping Chu Xun and he inched closer reluctantly.
Similarly, Chu Xun drew a drop of blood from him, performed an enchantment using a series of hand seals and injected the blood right back into him.
“What have you done to me?!” Zuo Ziqiu breathed, panicking. He felt the same as Yan Chong. A strange, inexplicable sensation of coldness down his spine as if a knife had been held to the back of his head; as if his life could be ended any time, anywhere.