Chapter 852 – Assassination in the Ancestral Hall (2/2)

The old Guardian had been one of the Longevity Sect's first-generation elders. He had enormous reservoirs of true essence, and his cultivation was at the peak of Star Condensation, even already half a step into the Divine.

Let alone the fact that Tang Thirty-Six was only at the initial level of Star Condensation, even if he suddenly exploded with ten times his strength, how could he possibly block such a fierce blow?

And even if he scrambled towards the courtyard, how could possibly escape the range of the wind stirred by the palm?

The old Guardian's palm descended like a mountain.

The snowstorm outside the ancestral hall seemed to be pulled by some invisible force. The winds stilled and the snow suddenly began to fall at a slower speed.

The old Guardian's palm seemed about to strike Tang Thirty-Six's head.

Suddenly, the snowstorm came back to life, and the snowflakes began to descend once more.

A sword glow flashed in the snowstorm.

This was an extremely bright sword glow, shining upon the courtyard's winter plums, stools, and the eyes of the assassin.

This was also an incredibly gloomy sword glow, all of its Qi restrained. It was like it had been stained with a hundred-some days of fallen leaves and dust, in complete harmony with the ancestral hall.

Several snowflakes falling from the sky were suddenly stained red.

It was the red of blood.

An expression of disbelief appeared in the old Guardian's eyes.

The palm stirred a howling wind.

The sword glow silently moved.

The candles of the ancestral hall were all extinguished.

The dense collection of memorial tablets fell over, one by one.

The beams and walls were covered in palm prints and sword slashes.

With a whoosh, the ancestral hall fell quiet once more.

The old Guardian stood on the stone steps in front of the ancestral hall.

His left palm had been run through by a sword, and had blood dripping from it.

The left side of his chest had also sustained a deep wound from which blood was trickling out.

His right palm was up against his opponent's left palm.

His opponent was a man dressed in the garb of a servant.

This man was very ordinary, devoid of any unique characteristics.

For the past five years, this man had always drooped his shoulders, just like Wang Po waiting outside the city at Chicken Crow Mountain.

But today he could not, because his left arm, from wrist to shoulder, had been completely broken by the old Guardian's palm.

Just who was this person that could fight the Tang clan's old Guardian and end it with both sides suffering grievous wounds!

Even though it was a sneak attack, it was still very difficult to believe.

……

……

The old Guardian had a vague recollection of this person. He was the mute servant of the ancestral hall.

He naturally knew now that this person could not possibly be some ordinary mute servant.

Nor was he a Tang clan expert arranged by the Old Master, as he knew all of the Tang clan's secrets.

So just who was this expert who feigned being mute and had swept the courtyard of the Tang clan's ancestral hall for half a year?

Someone who could ambush an expert half a step into the Divine had to be a master assassin, and one of about the same level of cultivation.

Peak Star Condensation? There was only one assassin on the continent with this level of cultivation.

The old Guardian knew the assassin's identity. His pupils constricted as he shouted, ”Attack!”

This order was naturally for those white-clothed assassins.

But at this crucial moment, he forgot one very important matter.

The assassins lunged towards Tang Thirty-Six, their sword intents swift, forceful, and frightening. They were many times colder than the snow of midwinter, able to make one shudder in fear.

Countless chilling sword glows appeared in the drifting snowflakes, followed quickly by the sound of sharp edges stabbing into bodies and groans.

The blood spilled onto the snow of the courtyard was especially dazzling.

Several assassins lay collapsed in pools of blood, no longer breathing.

These assassins were all of very high level and were exceptionally alert. Yet they could never have imagined that they would be ambushed by their own companions.

A forceful and frightening sword intent enveloped the courtyard of the Tang clan's ancestral hall.

The mute servant retreated to the courtyard.

The seven white-clothed assassins walked to his side.