C13 Battle Saint Monkey

Qin Guang wielded his wooden stick with an endless golden glow, unleashing a fierce aura powerful enough to pierce the heavens, crashing down upon the five individuals blocking his path. The stick was surrounded by black fragments, a testament to a force too great for this realm to bear.

Yet, Qin Guang himself was not unscathed. Brilliant golden blooms of blood sprouted from his pores as he struggled under the strain.

Among the Hei Family's youth, Qin Guang had never stood out. His coach had even advised him to pursue a path of agility. But now, the strength that burst forth from his slight frame was astonishing, leaving onlookers to wonder where such immense power had originated.

Exceeding the limits of his physical capacity, the force Qin Guang unleashed was a tremendous burden. While his rage persisted, he could maintain control, but once his fury subsided, his body risked near collapse.

Nangong Fan, witnessing the scene, was utterly dumbfounded. The events unfolding before him shattered more than a decade of his beliefs. The docile youngster who had always trailed behind him was now a figure of terror.

Still, a sense of warmth flowed through him, knowing Qin Guang's transformation was a response to the insults he had suffered.

With a single swing, Qin Guang's stick indiscriminately shrouded the five young men who had just risen. Wrapped in his fiery wrath, he was indifferent to the consequences. His heart swelled with malice, and he sought to rip apart anyone in sight, friend or foe, driven by a ferocity that challenged the heavenly way.

The five sheltered youths, never having stepped out from their family's protective embrace, had never encountered such savagery. Merely the intensity of Qin Guang's presence was enough to send two of them into a state of abject terror.

They had been exposed to the grandeur of hunts led by their family elders, which had given them a false sense of security and some notable successes. But now, faced with the raw brutality of true combat, they realized how sheltered they had been.

An unrelenting killing intent and a suffocating aura dominated this secluded corner, a stark reminder of the harsh realities beyond their sheltered lives.

The five of them had brought their fate upon themselves. They had deceived Qin Guang with claims that he possessed the aura of their young master and ventured into this secluded alley, eager for a thrill. Little did they expect the usually timid Qin Guang to unleash such formidable power.

In this place, their cries for help would go unanswered by the heavens and unheard by the earth.

Qin Guang's speed was astonishing. Even with Nangong Fan's spiritual energy enhancing his strength, he could only catch a fleeting glimpse of a golden blur darting among the five men.

The staff whirled through the air, followed by the sound of a watermelon being crushed.

Nangong Fan hadn't misheard; the sound was unmistakably that of a watermelon splitting open. Yet, before his eyes, three heads burst instantly. Under the shadow of the golden staff, they were smashed to a pulp, with bits of red and white strewn across the ground, a ghastly tableau of violence and gore.

Another was overpowered by Qin Guang's deceptive strength. His slender frame belied the horrific force that sent his victim flying, leaving him to convulse briefly on the cold floor before life left him.

Of the five, only the arrogant young man, thrown a bit farther away, managed to react. The rest perished in an instant.

The arrogant youth narrowly evaded the deadly swing aimed at his head, but a tremendous force still hurled him through the air. His right shoulder was punctured by a gaping, bowl-sized wound, from which blood poured freely.

With a single swing, Qin Guang had decimated five men, leaving only one severely injured survivor.

The arrogant young man, disheveled and terrified, scrambled past Nangong Fan, paying no heed to the figure before him. His pupils dilated with boundless fear, he stumbled and rolled away, fleeing desperately. His voice, hoarse and strained, echoed through the alley, "Monster! There's a monster here! Save me! Somebody, please save me!"

Qin Guang stood at the far end of the alley, clutching his wooden staff. He glanced at the macabre mix of red and white on the ground, his eyes radiating an even more intense ferocity. Any semblance of humanity had vanished from his gaze, leaving only a trembling body that responded to Nangong Fan's stare.

Qin Guang paid no attention to the four individuals, now a gruesome spectacle, as they collapsed to the ground. With a bend of his knees, he sprang into the air, vaulting over the wooden house with ease. Clutching a wooden stick in both hands, he brought it crashing down on Nangong Fan, who stood at the alley's entrance, with the crushing force of a mountain.

Nangong Fan surveyed the chaos strewn across the ground with a sense of revulsion and oppression. The impending blow felt as though the heavens themselves were bearing down on him, rendering his arms as heavy as lead, unable to lift in defense.

A thin stream of spiritual energy coursed through Nangong Fan, escaping in a thunderous cry. The sound of shattering glass echoed from the uninhabited wooden house nearby. Buoyed by the spiritual energy, Nangong Fan managed to shake off his discomfort, rolling away in a bear-like maneuver just as the wooden stick met the cobblestone with a resounding clang, the impact sending tremors through the ground.

Lying on his side, Nangong Fan had a clear view of the shattered cobblestone and the now misshapen wooden stick.

Qin Guang released his twisted grip on the stick, his hands contorted as if they were wrung into spirals. His furry fists clenched once more, hurtling towards Nangong Fan.

"Little brat," croaked Nangong Fan.

At the sound of his voice, the furry fist halted abruptly before Nangong Fan's face, close enough for him to feel the ticklish brush of golden soft hair against his sweat-drenched skin.

The malice in Qin Guang's eyes melted away at the sound of Nangong Fan's voice. His golden pupils flickered with uncertainty and conflict. In a sudden motion, he withdrew his hands, clutching his small head in a grip of agony. A bestial roar of pain escaped him, unrecognizable as human.

"Young Master... It's clearly not you..." Qin Guang's raspy voice lingered in Nangong Fan's ears.

Gradually, the golden fur on Qin Guang's body receded, revealing the skin of an ordinary person. His fiery golden eyes softened into a normal black hue. Drenched in sweat, he collapsed to the ground with a thud, his small frame curling up as his closed eyes twitched with the expression of someone in deep anguish.

After Qin Guang exerted his might, he ultimately collapsed from exhaustion.

Nangong Fan scrambled to Qin Guang's side, smoothed out his body, and sat down with him on the ground. He gently cradled Qin Guang's head in his lap and tenderly stroked his fierce-looking face. Together, they resembled two destitute souls huddling for warmth amidst the biting cold, exuding a sense of comfort.

In front of them lay three headless corpses, one split in half, with a gruesome mix of white and red strewn across the ground. Beyond that, a fresh stream of blood meandered away, forming a small river that trailed off into the distance.

The distant uproar of a crowd could still be heard, chants of "Slay the demon," "Defend the heavenly way," echoing in the air.

Nangong Fan's head spun with dizziness. He rested his head against Qin Guang's and lost consciousness.

Their heads nestled together, Nangong Fan and Qin Guang found solace in each other's presence, as if it were the only source of warmth in the world.

A figure in a white robe watched them from a shadowy spot atop a wooden hut, lost in thought. "I never imagined the kind-hearted child I once took in would have such an extraordinary origin. Fiery Eyes of Truth... Monkey... There are mentions of a Heavenly Divine Beast, the Battle Saint Monkey, in the 'Records of Strange Beasts.' To think that a Heavenly Divine Beast has appeared here. Is it a blessing or a curse?"

Hei Yuqing looked up at the sky, his eyes reflecting a mix of combativeness and dissatisfaction. By the time the crowd reached the alley, he had vanished from the eaves without a trace.

"I need water... I'm so hungry..." Nangong Fan's eyes fluttered open weakly, revealing only the flickering candlelight and the barren ceiling above. His voice was raspy and feeble.

"My dear little master, you're finally awake," a crisp female voice rang out from beside the bed. Footsteps receded, followed by the sound of a door opening. Moments later, the footsteps approached the bedside once more.

Nangong Fan's gaze fell upon a delicate arm that reached out to support him.

Hei Yushang was perched on the edge of the bed, cradling a steaming bowl in one hand and stirring it with a spoon in the other. Her lips pursed gently as she blew on the hot contents of the bowl.

She ladled out a spoonful of porridge and gently blew on it before bringing it to Nangong Fan's parched lips, feeding him slowly. "Is it too hot?"

Nangong Fan's heart fluttered. He shook his head softly, his gaze tenderly following Hei Yushang as she bustled about—it was clear she was inexperienced in caring for others.

Once the porridge settled in his stomach, a glimmer of pleasure appeared in Hei Yushang's eyes. "Would you like more porridge?"

"No, thank you, Aunt." Nangong Fan's speech had become much clearer. He accepted the handkerchief from the woman in the black dress who had been gently wiping his mouth. The cloth was subtly scented, evidently a personal item she used regularly. "How is Qin Guang doing?"

"He's under strict watch in the northeastern cabin," Hei Yushang replied, her eyes reflecting a hint of gravity. "Hei Yulong and his son, Hei Jiao, are adamant that you're implicated in the murder. It's a bit of a mess, but just a minor one. As for Qin Guang, he won't be easy to rescue—the Law Enforcement Hall is getting involved tomorrow. Speaking of which, the punishment they wanted to impose on you has been nullified by the black dragon seed you brought back. There's even a reward for you."

"The Law Enforcement Hall, tomorrow? Seems like tonight is the only chance we have to strategize." A serious expression crossed Nangong Fan's face. He couldn't just abandon his best friend, and he wasn't the type to worry about consequences. As for the Law Enforcement Hall's reward, he dismissed it outright. What could they offer a non-cultivator like him? To those who practiced cultivation, mere gold and silver were trivial.

"Little Zhe, what did you say?"

"Nothing at all, Aunt. You should get some rest—you have to return to the barracks tomorrow." Nangong Fan flashed a radiant smile.

"Alright then, you should get some rest too."

With a shake of her head and a graceful turn, Hei Yushang vanished from Nangong Fan's view.

The Black Family Estate housed no fewer than three hundred families, with dozens of young men and women engaged in daily training.

Without rules, there can be no standards. Committing murder within the estate is a grave offense; not even Qin Guang or the direct descendants could escape the consequences, risking the loss of their privileged status and potentially half their lives. The four individuals involved, barring the direct descendants, faced almost certain death as a life must pay for a life.

Yet, the authority to enforce the law rested solely with the Law Enforcement Hall. Qin Guang's failure to immediately send the offender there was a result of Hei Yulong's resentment and Hei Jiao's fury. The proud young man with the pierced shoulder was, of course, Hei Jiao. Such an injury effectively rendered Hei Jiao's right arm useless. How could a young prodigy not seethe with anger? And how could Hei Yulong, who had pinned his hopes on Hei Jiao's rise to power, simply accept this fate?

If they could ensure the downfall of the sole direct descendant, Hei Ze, stripping him of his status and leaving the Hei Family without an heir, a new direct descendant would need to be chosen. Given Hei Jiao's talents, he was the prime candidate. With the Hei Family's resources, even regenerating an arm wasn't out of the question, let alone recovering from a mere shoulder wound that affected the strength in his right arm.

Nangong Fan didn't grasp these intricacies. The last words Qin Guang had uttered before his breakdown resonated in his mind, filling his heart with a surge of warmth. His fists tightened involuntarily.

"You may insult me, but anyone who dares to insult the young master will meet their end!"