The Gate of Hundred Demons

With the appearance of the Corpse-driving Old Ghost, the atmosphere in the entire area froze to an icy stillness.

A mournful flute melody echoed through the treetops!

Crows emerged one after another from the woods!

Their raucous cawing, filled with sorrow and desolation, instantly drew the attention of everyone present.

Amid the flock of crows, a gaunt man in gray robes, a long flute tucked at his waist, stepped lightly upon the birds as he descended gracefully.

"Dark Crow, Wusu," the lean man said indifferently.

An Yi couldn't help but exclaim, "Damn, what a show-off!"

This was the kind of entrance reserved for protagonists! Even though their group was full of "chosen ones," none of them could match this level of flair.

Lin Chen's expression, however, darkened further, his already grim face turning even colder.

The two monks, Long and Hu, paled visibly.

They knew all too well—these newcomers were infamous dark practitioners!

"The Demonic Monk, the Corpse-driving Old Ghost, and Dark Crow… My god, these three have actually shown up! Just what kind of background does An Yi have?"

"I don’t know… Should we run for our lives?"

Many of the martial artists who had come for An Yi’s 500-million bounty were already trembling in fear.

These three dark practitioners were notorious for their brutality.

Any one of them was enough to send shockwaves through the martial world.

No one had expected all three to appear together!

The Yellow-Robed Beauty and the other women from the Joyous Sect didn’t dare even breathe loudly.

She suddenly realized—tonight, they had stumbled into something far beyond their involvement.

"All members of the Joyous Sect, retreat!" the Yellow-Robed Beauty gritted her teeth and ordered.

"But, Holy Maiden—"

"Live to fight another day! We’re leaving now!"

With the arrival of the three dark practitioners, the air itself seemed to solidify, suffocating everyone with an oppressive weight.

Many martial artists fled in panic.

This was clearly not a battle they should be part of.

Yet, some rogue martial artists remained, their gazes fixed on the three dark practitioners with undisguised greed.

The Demonic Monk, Yu Tian, stepped forward and pointed at An Yi, smiling politely.

"Esteemed warriors, this is the real An Yi!"

"What? He’s not Lin Chen?"

"No wonder we couldn’t find him! Look closely—he’s the one in the photo! Just his hair color is different!"

"Damn it! He’s been tricking us with a fake name all along!"

In an instant, the martial artists turned their fury toward An Yi.

The Corpse-driving Old Ghost grinned.

"The 500-million bounty was issued by our Hundred Ghosts Sect. Whoever kills An Yi will not only claim the reward but also earn a place in our ranks—directly promoted to the rank of Guardian!"

The remaining martial artists exchanged hushed, excited whispers.

"I’ve long heard the Hundred Ghosts Sect gathers the most formidable dark practitioners! To think even these three legends are part of it!"

"What a generous offer! Who’s really pulling the strings behind the Hundred Ghosts Sect?"

Though they spoke cautiously, their eyes betrayed their shifting intentions.

The 500-million bounty wasn’t the main attraction.

What truly tempted them was the chance to join the Hundred Ghosts Sect!

Most of them were rogue martial artists without a faction. Joining a sect meant security, backing—a true foundation.

And the Hundred Ghosts Sect was the best choice of all.

Rumors said the sect possessed teachings from immortals—not just immense power, but even the secret to extending one’s lifespan!

For martial artists, this was the ultimate dream. And now, it was within reach.

As for whether it was a dark sect?

What did that matter to them?

One by one, their gazes locked onto An Yi, their expressions turning predatory.

Lin Chen frowned. "This is trouble."

An Yi released Shangguan Qianqian from his arms and drew his combat knife.

"Run if you can. I can’t protect you anymore."

Shangguan Qianqian replied coldly, "They think I’m your accomplice. Do you really think I can escape?"

Fang Jueming, along with Long and Hu, clenched their fists.

Tonight would be a brutal fight.

"Interesting… No wonder you were so confident."

A blind young man perched effortlessly on a tree branch, his weight seemingly nonexistent as he listened intently to the commotion ahead. A thoughtful smile played on his lips.

Thousand Taoist said leisurely, "Even a lion uses its full strength to catch a rabbit. I don’t act without absolute certainty."

The blind youth chuckled. "Fascinating. It seems An Yi has no way out this time. Make sure to capture him alive—the immortals have taken quite an interest in him."

"Rest assured, Envoy." Thousand Taoist clasped his hands respectfully.

Though arrogant by nature, he knew better than to provoke those above him.

This blind man’s strength far surpassed his own, and he was highly favored by the immortals. In terms of seniority, he was even Thousand Taoist’s elder.

The incited rogue martial artists turned their frenzied gazes toward An Yi, their bloodlust rising.

"Go!"

The Demonic Monk, Yu Tian, uttered a single word.

His voice carried an eerie power, instantly driving the martial artists into a frenzied rage. They roared and charged forward!

Qin Shan and Liu Dachao exchanged uneasy glances—these men had lost control.

"Who dares?!"

Long stepped forward with a thunderous bellow!

The sheer force of his voice sent the front-line fighters staggering back, their minds clearing momentarily.

"A disciple of Lantuo Temple?"

The Demonic Monk’s eyes narrowed.

In a flash, he appeared before Long and struck with an open palm.

Boom!

The seemingly gentle impact sent Long flying like a cannonball!

"Long!" Hu cried out in alarm.

Before he could react, Yu Tian was already upon him, launching another attack!

"Dragon Coiling Force!"

Fang Jueming suddenly intervened, his fist twisting through the air with explosive force!

His punch collided with Yu Tian’s palm!

Boom!

A shockwave rippled outward, sending a fierce gale whipping through the area.

Yu Tian’s expression shifted. "Incredible speed."

This kid was only at the Mingjin level, yet with this bizarre fist technique, he could actually hold his own!

"Xiao Ming!"

An Yi flicked his wrist, sending an air blade slicing toward Yu Tian!

Yu Tian shattered the attack and retreated, smirking. "Come at me together!"

Fang Jueming tightened the bandages around his fists with his teeth, his eyes burning with determination.

"Master, leave this monk to me!"

An Yi studied Fang Jueming’s unwavering gaze, then grinned.

"Fine, the bald bastard’s yours!"

As he spoke, three more air blades materialized in his hands, cutting down three charging martial artists in an instant.

Though air blades weren’t lethal, they required little energy—perfect for dealing with weaker opponents.

In moments, over a dozen fighters lay bleeding on the ground without even getting close to An Yi.

These men had come to kill him—he saw no reason to hold back.

Meanwhile, Lin Chen faced the onslaught of martial artists with icy calm, a killing intent simmering in his eyes.

He slowly raised a hand.

A strange force enveloped the attackers, freezing them in place.

Seizing the moment, Lin Chen dashed forward, his Cloud-Splitting Staff a blur of motion.

With a final flourish, he retracted the staff.

The dozen immobilized fighters collapsed in a heap.

At the same time—

Qin Shan joined the fray, grabbing two men and hurling them aside like ragdolls.

Liu Dachao moved like the wind, knocking out four opponents in rapid succession, his excitement growing.

But when he delivered a powerful palm strike to an old man’s back—

The old man didn’t even flinch.

"Little brother, sneaking up to hit someone from behind isn't a good habit!"

The gaunt old man gripping a bamboo stick turned his head a full 180 degrees, flashing Liu Dachao a sinister, eerie grin.

Liu Dachao’s face turned ashen.

Corpse-driving Old Ghost!

Shit!

Wrong target!

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