809: Chapter 798: Ning Fan’s Swordsmanship 809: Chapter 798: Ning Fan’s Swordsmanship Cultivating to the True Origin Realm is like a rebirth for every ancient martial artist, a return to their original true state.
For the Second Elder, this was his last chance.
If Ning Fan hadn’t seen through it, the Second Elder would still be pretending to be a normal person by now.
But now, he was panicking—his greatest secret had been discovered by Ning Fan.
This was a tremendous blow to him.
“It seems I was right.
Without stepping into the True Origin Realm, your path can only end in death!”
Ning Fan smiled, though it seemed as if he was regretfully pitying something.
Strictly speaking, this should have been a great blessing for him.
Right now, the Second Elder was his biggest obstacle in dealing with the Yunteng Family.
If the elder didn’t die, it would be nearly impossible for Ning Fan to leave the Yunteng Family alive today.
The Half-step True Origin Realm could allow an elder who should have been paralyzed to move normally.
But ironically, the Heavenly Silkworm Gu that once permitted him to persist to this day had also become his death sentence.
“Uncle?!”
Teng Zhuhai, who by now had understood some of what was unfolding, couldn’t help but cry out anxiously.
“Heh, I didn’t expect you to see through it.
But what if you did?
I admit, your potential is rare in this world.
But to my Yunteng Family, the greater your potential, the greater the danger.
Even if I perish alongside you today, so what?!”
The Second Elder’s expression became grotesque and twisted.
His desiccated, skeletal hands no longer concealed by any façade revealed him for what he truly was—a withered, dying tree on the brink of collapse.
This dramatic transformation stunned the members of the Yunteng Family.
Not long ago, they had been proud of the elder in the Half-step True Origin Realm.
But now that they knew how little time the Second Elder had left, their faces fell into mourning one after another.
The Second Elder, at this moment, no longer cared how anyone else felt.
Stepping into the True Origin Realm was as attainable for him now as a daytime dream.
Perhaps this was fate…
“At dawn, the time left to this old body is slim… In the future, the Yunteng Family must depend on you, Zhuhai!”
The Second Elder exhaled deeply, as if relieved, then cast an expectant gaze toward Teng Zhuhai.
Even if he managed to kill Ning Fan today, it might buy him a short reprieve.
But it would change nothing.
His body had reached its limit.
Unless an immortal intervened or a miracle granted him entry to the True Origin Realm, he had to begin preparing for the end.
If Ning Fan hadn’t shown up today, if the Yunteng Family hadn’t provoked him in the first place, how different things might have been.
The Second Elder would still have had some time left.
But now, every move he made no longer cost True Qi, it cost time.
Ning Fan, having seen through this, had no need to hesitate about what to do next.
“Uncle, Ning Fan is already a grasshopper after the autumn frost.
Leave the rest to us!”
Teng Zhuhai, unwilling to watch the Second Elder, now akin to a flickering candle in the wind, continue like this, finally stepped forward.
Behind him were several ancient martial artists of the Yunteng Family, looking as if they were prepared to take over.
But the Second Elder simply shook his head, his eyes filled with an appreciative light as they fell on Ning Fan.
He let out a hearty laugh and said, “What a pity… the Yunteng Family couldn’t become friends with you.
Young man, you are truly exceptional!”
Perhaps it was true what they said about the dying—words from one at death’s door were often kind.
The Second Elder’s tone no longer resembled one addressing a mortal enemy, but rather a kindly elder admiring a younger generation.
Ning Fan gave him a surprised look and then sighed softly, saying, “That’s impossible.
The path your family walks can never align with mine.
Using demonic techniques like the Evil Gu that bring harm to others… such people could never be my friends.
However, you aren’t too bad yourself.
Though your Sword Intent is still in its infancy, it has taught me much.
For that, I do owe you thanks.”
In the end, their stances were irreconcilable.
Yet, out of respect for the elder nearing his demise, Ning Fan’s tone carried some reverence.
He admired the Second Elder’s determination to persevere with his shattered body until now.
What Ning Fan didn’t know was that the pain the Second Elder endured with every movement was far beyond what an ordinary person could imagine.
“Your tongue truly spares no one… But for the Yunteng Family, I will do one last thing.
You shall join me on the Road to the Yellow Springs.
Having a young companion will make the journey far less lonely!”
The Second Elder had no intention of debating whether the path of the Evil Gu was right or wrong.
That was a decision for the future generations.
What he could do now for the Yunteng Family was to use his crippled body to block Ning Fan and eliminate this threat forever.
“Heh, so I’m the villain now.
But to honor your swan song, villain or hero matters little.
Could I trouble you for your name?”
Ning Fan shrugged helplessly.
Though he did not like the elder, he couldn’t deny the elder’s commitment to his ideals, a quality beyond the reach of most people.
“Teng Qiming.
And you?”
“Ning Fan.
Remember to tell King Yan my name when you arrive in the Underworld.
For my sake, he might grant you a better next life!”
The remark left the Second Elder both amused and exasperated.
It was as if Ning Fan were implying that despite all the evil he had done, reporting Ning Fan’s name in the Underworld would not only keep him from the Eighteen Levels of Hell but also ensure a fortunate reincarnation.
With a question and a response, both moved to strike at the same time.
Their figures crossed again, swords tracing arcs of light that reflected in the onlookers’ eyes.
A figure leaped through the air, trailing a white streak of sword light.
When it finally landed in the center of the great hall, it was Ning Fan.
His expression was strained; his left shoulder bore a deep wound that exposed the bone.
Yet his gaze brimmed with excitement.
It had been too long since he had experienced such a fierce and exhilarating battle.
Even though a single misstep could have cost him his life, Ning Fan couldn’t suppress his thrill.
The contest of swordsmanship had taught him so much.
“This is my final strike, the culmination of everything I’ve learned in this lifetime.
This strike is aimed at your heart!”
The Second Elder turned, spinning his sword with a flourish.
He stepped slowly toward Ning Fan, his expression calm as he spoke.
He could feel it—his time was nearly up.
In this moment before death, the Second Elder grasped something he had long sought.
The Sword Intent within him, which had been but a budding sprout, was now blossoming like tender shoots.
Some wield Sword Intent that commands armies.
Others, Sword Intent as unyielding as steel.
For some, it flows like mountains and rivers.
But his Sword Intent was different—simple, unadorned, still as a placid lake yet capable of striking with thunderous force.
At a distance of just five steps from Ning Fan, his sword moved.
It was a simple strike, ancient and unembellished, a straightforward thrust devoid of excess flair.
Yet it burdened Ning Fan with immense pressure.
Every escape was sealed.
He was trapped, with nowhere to hide.
This one strike was unblockable—just as the elder had claimed, it was meant to pierce his heart.
“Show me your best!”
Ning Fan gritted his teeth, his forehead damp with sweat.
There was no point in dodging—so he didn’t.
He swung his sword with all he had.
Thud!
A sword pierced Ning Fan’s left chest, emerging through his back.
Meanwhile, Ning Fan’s soft sword stopped just shy of the Second Elder’s throat, not penetrating even a fraction, merely resting against the folds of his wrinkled skin.