Chapter Sixty-Six: Severed Arm

At this moment, Master Lu was intent on a swift resolution; facing Wenhao, their every move was fierce and unrelenting. Wenhao understood well that the outcome of this battle would ultimately be decided between himself and the old patriarch of the Lu family. Anxiety crept into his heart, for Lu fought with utter disregard for his life.

“Old fool, since you wish for death, I’ll oblige you!” Wenhao shouted, and suddenly, two black tornadoes manifested at his sides. The violent aura caused everyone nearby to pale in alarm.

The twin tornadoes pressed in toward the old master. Lu responded with a low shout, undaunted, his hand radiating a brilliant golden light.

With a blade-like palm, he struck fiercely at the incoming tornadoes.

A deafening explosion erupted as the tornadoes collided with the golden blade, the Lu family courtyard blown open, bricks and stones flying in all directions.

“Master, who do you think will win?” Lu Han asked nervously, watching the fierce combat.

Some nearby fighters halted their own battles, swallowing hard as they witnessed the devastation.

“So this is the destructive power of a Profound Lord?” someone muttered.

“It’s impossible to say for now; both are evenly matched. But in a fight, several factors—technique, martial skills, experience, even courage—are all key to victory,” Old Ling analyzed.

Lu Han nodded deeply. In his previous duel against Li Zong, it was only thanks to the overwhelming power of ‘Sword’s Frost Lotus’ that he prevailed.

Listening to Old Ling’s weak voice, Lu Han wanted to speak but held back. Ever since Old Ling’s last intervention, his soul form had faded even more, as if on the verge of disappearing. If he acted again, he might vanish entirely.

The battle raged on.

“Old fool, you can die now!” Wenhao roared.

Old Ling frowned. “Looks like this time, there will indeed be a victor.”

Lu felt the nearby surge of energy, a hint of gravity settling on his aged face.

Wenhao’s hands moved relentlessly, forming seals. With a sweep of his arms, each hand conjured a fist-sized orb of energy, formed from profound force, with a black energy dragon curled inside.

A roar echoed from within the spheres.

Those of lesser cultivation clapped their hands over their ears and crouched on the ground.

Even Lu Han felt his blood surge and churn.

Old Ling’s frail voice sounded in Lu Han’s heart. “This is a martial art inspired by the Black Flood Dragon, already bearing the might of a high-level Profound Technique.”

Wenhao smiled cryptically. “Old fool, from this day forth, Maple Leaf City will belong to me alone. No more will the three great families and the City Lord’s Mansion stand as equals!”

“Origin Black Flood Scissors!” Wenhao bellowed, thrusting the profound energy spheres forward, unleashing their boundless force upon Master Lu.

With another roar, the spheres transformed as soon as they left his hands into twin black dragons, each over ten meters long.

The two dragons instantly intertwined, forming the shape of a pair of scissors, as if intent on slicing their target in half.

Seeing the dragons before him, Master Lu’s gaze sharpened. His profound energy shifted, enveloping him in gold, turning him into a gleaming blade, as if he were a peerless golden sword freshly drawn.

‘Golden Spirit Blade Technique,’ perfected—man and blade united!

“Grandfather…” Lu Han whispered.

“Your grandfather’s comprehension is impressive; he’s achieved unity with the blade. Now, he is the blade itself,” Old Ling said.

Master Lu stomped the ground, golden light flashing as he seemed to transform wholly into a blade.

A dazzling golden blade, over ten meters long, charged toward the dragons.

The Lu family’s signature martial art: Giant Spirit Golden Blade.

In an instant, two mighty forces collided, like meteors crashing together.

Yet, as soon as they met, the golden blade fell behind, and the Origin Black Flood Dragons pressed on.

The blade’s glow dimmed but did not retreat.

Wenhao sneered.

“Even with your matching martial art, at best it carries the power of a mid-level Profound Technique. How can it compare to my ‘Origin Black Flood Scissors’?”

The black dragons, charged with fierce energy, pierced through the golden blade.

A metallic clang rang out.

An arm flew through the air.

“Father!”

“Grandfather!”

“Old Patriarch!”

The Lu family members fighting nearby stopped in shock as they witnessed the scene.

Suddenly, the golden blade flickered strangely, its aura stronger than before.

“Kill!” A furious shout erupted from the blade, tinged with killing intent and pain.

Wenhao’s smile froze.

A golden sword-light pierced through his body.

“Aaah…!” Master Lu landed hard, coughing up blood. He barely had time to wipe his mouth before pressing his fingers to his left shoulder, staunching the bleeding.

A hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; his left arm was gone, severed at the shoulder by the Black Flood Dragon Scissors.

Yet his expression quickly returned to normal. For the safety of the Lu family, sacrificing an arm was worth it.

“Ugh…” Wenhao clutched his chest, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t expect you weren’t fighting at full strength. Had you done so at the start, your arm wouldn’t have been lost, but then you wouldn’t have succeeded either,” Wenhao’s voice trembled.

Lu Han was puzzled by Wenhao’s words.

Old Ling explained, “Your grandfather didn’t use his full strength at first. If he had, he’d have been injured from the start. Instead, he conserved his power, and though he lost an arm, he unleashed his energy at the critical moment, catching Wenhao off guard. Truly bold—a single arm, discarded without hesitation.”

“Grandfather!” Lu Han hurried to support the faltering old master.

“Grandfather, your arm…”

“It’s nothing, dear boy. If you hadn’t brought me that letter, Tianhong wouldn’t have forced me out of seclusion, and the consequences would have been dire,” Master Lu said kindly, gazing at Lu Han. Having passed on the family headship, he’d stayed in seclusion for years, rarely seeing his grandson.

Despair filled Wenhao’s eyes. The golden blade had pierced his chest, severing his heart’s veins. He would not survive, unless he possessed some miraculous elixir or treasure—things even the Wen family in the imperial capital lacked. And even if they did, by the time it arrived, he would already be dead.

“Lu Han?” Wenhao stared at him with a chilling glare. Were it not for Lu Han, he would have succeeded, the Lu family would be his, and even if Master Lu emerged from seclusion, it would be too late.

As for the Lie family, with two of the three clans subdued, how could they resist?

“You little bastard! If not for you, I would have won!” Wenhao spat bitterly.

Lu Han looked at him coldly.

Wenhao had conspired with the Li family and Lu Han’s uncle, first causing him to fall off a cliff, then trying to seize the clan.

Had Lu Han not survived and returned, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

“Haha… Haha… Who would have thought that after all the chaos I stirred in the imperial capital, I escaped unscathed, yet now I must die in this tiny Maple Leaf City. But before I die, little bastard, you’ll go first!”

Wenhao’s expression twisted with malice as he stared at Lu Han.

Suddenly, he stomped forward, unleashing a palm strike toward Lu Han with all his remaining strength. There was no art or technique—only the intent to kill.

Master Lu, grievously wounded, could barely stand without Lu Han’s support.

As Wenhao’s palm descended, Lu Han’s hair stood on end.

There was no way to dodge or withstand this strike.

What could he do?

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