Chapter Eleven: Another World Awaits

Feng Qichuan slipped into the house, puzzled. According to what Huailing had previously described, Ma Yu had stayed inside all along and hadn't gone out—so why was he nowhere to be found now?

It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

"Could there be some hidden secret here?" Feng Qichuan scanned his surroundings, determined not to miss a single detail.

It wasn't until he inspected the bed that he noticed a faint, barely perceptible bulge on its left side. It was so subtle that only the keenest observation could have revealed it.

"As I thought, it's hollow underneath." Feng Qichuan's eyes lit up. Though he couldn't immediately find the mechanism, knowing the entrance was enough—with the strength of someone who had attained the acquired realm, he could break through with ease.

A muffled thud echoed as a staircase leading straight into the earth appeared before him, stretching a dozen meters or so. At the end of the stairway, a faint glimmer of light flickered in and out of sight.

Feng Qichuan focused all his attention, holding his breath and moving forward at a measured pace.

Soon enough, he uncovered the true face of the secret passage.

Below was an underground palace, even more vast than the city lord's mansion above.

He had barely set foot inside when two second-rate martial artists spotted him. Shocked to see an intruder, they opened their mouths to shout.

But Feng Qichuan was swifter—his blade fell before a single word could escape their lips.

"As expected, this is the Moruo Sect’s branch." A glance at the two men's attire made the truth clear to Feng Qichuan.

And Ma Yu's true identity—he was now certain beyond doubt.

As he stood there, momentarily stunned, a shadow shot toward him, swift as an arrow.

Feng Qichuan, highly alert, dodged the attack with a sidestep.

At once, more than a dozen first-rate martial artists surged forth, eyes fixed on this unwelcome guest.

Among them was the killer who had previously escaped Feng Qichuan by sheer luck.

"Ma Yu!" Feng Qichuan glared, his left hand gripping his sword hilt.

"So you're Feng Qichuan, the escort master. Your skills are indeed impressive—truly unexpected," Ma Yu said, his words cold and mocking, though his voice was full and resonant.

He had been testing Feng Qichuan just now.

When his underlings first reported to him, he had his doubts.

Since when had tiny Yingchuan produced a second martial artist of the acquired realm?

Indeed, the first had been himself.

Feng Qichuan wore a solemn expression. He had already sensed Ma Yu’s strength—the man’s inner force was formidable, easily a match for his own, perhaps even superior.

"I never imagined," Feng Qichuan said, "that the illustrious city lord would turn out to be a heretic."

Ma Yu let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Illustrious? I’d call it notorious, rather. And what’s so bad about being with a heretical sect? This world is steeped in evil. Rather than be corrupted by darkness, why not become darkness itself? Those who call themselves righteous are nothing but hypocrites—they wear the lamb’s fleece of justice while acting the wolf in secret."

Feng Qichuan made no rebuttal, unwilling to waste words on such a debate. "Our paths are set—we cannot rest while the other lives. Why quibble over meaningless things?"

"My friend, we have no personal enmity. It was my underling who acted on his own. You’ve already killed one of mine; let me hand over this one to you as well—two lives for two lives, and let this matter rest. What do you say?" Ma Yu pointed to the murderer who had acted before, speaking unhurriedly.

The man who had slain Feng Qichuan’s wife and child trembled, his face ashen with dread.

He knew well that if Feng Qichuan nodded, Ma Yu would hand him over without hesitation to settle the debt.

Feng Qichuan sneered bitterly. "How laughable. Even if I slaughter all of you, it will not quench my hatred. My feud with the Moruo Sect is one of life and death."

"Then die!" A murderous glint flashed in Ma Yu’s eyes. If they could not be friends, then he must be eradicated.

Feng Qichuan braced himself. The pressure from his opponent was immense—most of all, he still hadn’t fully gauged Ma Yu’s strength.

Ma Yu’s palms were like a tiger’s, broad and ferocious. He leapt into the air, both hands slashing down at Feng Qichuan’s vital points.

Feng Qichuan’s gaze turned steely. His left hand drew the blade with lightning speed, and a chilling arc of sword-light cleaved the air, thunderous and fierce.

Blade met palm with a crisp crack—Feng Qichuan was forced back several steps by the collision.

Ma Yu, meanwhile, stood motionless, as steady as a mountain.

Shock flickered on Feng Qichuan’s face—for once, his blade had failed to give him the upper hand.

"Stay here," Ma Yu pressed his advantage, unleashing a flurry of deadly strikes, each move more forceful than the last.

The razor-sharp force of his inner energy gouged marks into the surrounding walls.

Feng Qichuan’s pupils contracted. He knew that if this continued, defeat was inevitable.

Ma Yu’s cultivation was already on the verge of the late acquired realm.

A desire to retreat stirred within Feng Qichuan. He had yet to avenge his wife and child—how could he die now?

How could he face them in the underworld, empty-handed?

The space here was cramped—breaking free would not be easy.

"I have no choice but to risk everything," Feng Qichuan thought. Glancing up, he spotted the sealing stone above the stairs, held fast by two iron chains.

Suddenly, he darted left, using the wall to leap upward, and swung his sword fiercely at the chains.

Ma Yu, realizing Feng Qichuan’s intent, moved instantly, appearing behind him in a flash.

He gathered all his force into his palms and struck hard at Feng Qichuan’s back.

Five bloody marks scored Feng Qichuan’s back—a ghastly sight.

The residual force pierced into his organs.

Feng Qichuan coughed roughly, a heaviness filling his chest, but at the brink of life and death, he would not fall.

The sealing stone would not hold Ma Yu for long—he had to escape at once.

Without hesitation, Feng Qichuan threw himself back the way he had come.

Ma Yu cursed furiously. "Despicable cur! I’ll tear you to pieces!"

Not only had Feng Qichuan discovered his true identity and the location of his stronghold, but if word got out, all his years of painstaking effort would be undone.

"Sir, he won’t get far. Yingchuan is only so big. We can search every house if we must—let’s see if he can fly away," said one of the first-rate martial artists.

"Hmph, flying away is unlikely, but an enemy at the acquired realm is always troublesome. An open attack can be parried, but a hidden one is hard to defend against. If he stays in the shadows, it will be a real problem for us," Ma Yu snorted coldly, his mood foul.

"Sir, wasn’t the villain who slaughtered the Hu family two years ago never caught either?"