Is Not Dying an Option?

"I don't know either." The red-robed man rotated his wrist and spoke slowly, "I'm merely following orders." "You're quite frank." Fang Wen smiled. "To a dying man, there is nothing that cannot be said." The red-robed man spoke in an easy tone, as if the person sitting beside him were not a living, breathing human being, but a corpse that had been dead for hours. Fang Wen countered, "Since there's nothing that cannot be said, why not tell me where this Divine Fire Seal actually comes from? "And what is your true identity? "Oh, right. Back when I was at Zhujige Pavilion, I pried six words out of that black-clad man's mouth." "...What words?" "'Ten thousand li of terror, the Enthroned Sovereign.'" Fang Wen spread his hands. "Seeing as I'm about to die anyway, why don't you tell me what those six words actually mean?" "I cannot say." The red-robed man answered quickly, though it was hardly the answer Fang Wen wanted. Fang Wen let out a scoff. "Well, that takes all the fun out of it. You just said that before a dying man, there was nothing that couldn't be said. Yet in the blink of an eye, you go back on your word..." "Because if I speak of it, even I will die," the red-robed man replied helplessly. "Just because you're going to die, you can't expect to drag me down with you, can you?" "So that's how it is." Fang Wen rubbed his chin. "Back in the front mountain main hall of Zhujige Pavilion, after that black-clad man uttered those six words, a burst of fiery energy erupted from within his body, instantly consuming him until not even ashes remained. "Now that you say this... it seems that so-called Divine Fire Seal can control your tongues, preventing you from casually revealing secrets. "Interesting. Truly fascinating. "There really are all kinds of wondrous arts and divine skills under heaven... "So to speak, all of you have been implanted with this Divine Fire Seal? "Was it done by that Enthroned Sovereign?" "Why pry so much when you're about to die?" The red-robed man smiled as he spoke, but the killing intent radiating from his body grew ever thicker. Fang Wen asked with a helpless sigh, "Is not dying an option?" "No." The moment those two words left the red-robed man's mouth, Fang Wen had already leaped into the air. A technique from the Mahakala Palm—Vajra Throws the Pagoda—shot forth abruptly. Yet it was not aimed at the red-robed man; the palm strike vaulted clear over the members of the Lu'an Escort Agency and slammed down brutally right amidst the throng of red-clad cultists. However, these men were no ordinary jianghu figures. Even though Fang Wen and the red-robed man had been chatting and laughing in apparent harmony, they had never let down their guard. When this palm strike landed, aside from a few who simply could not evade in time—crushed into the earth by Fang Wen's blow, bleeding from all seven orifices to their deaths—most of them managed to dodge to either side. Fang Wen did not care in the slightest. Delivering the palm blow without lingering, he twisted around, and Twin Golden Lotuses was suddenly unleashed. Just as the red-clad figures on both flanks moved to encircle him, the palm force swept across them. Thud, thud, thud! Bang, bang, bang! In an instant, a haze of blood sprayed into the air. The seven or eight red-clad cultists who had just charged forward all suffered caved-in chests as the palm force burst through their backs, showering a rain of blood over the faces and heads of those behind them. Their faces were masked with cloth, but their eyes remained bare. Without time to think, they scrambled back, raising hands to wipe their vision clean. Taking advantage of the opening, Fang Wen called out, "Fall back, all of you." Mo Beidou started to say something, but Lu Guiyan yanked him backward. Now was hardly the time to rush up and help. Any help from them would only get in the way... Meanwhile, the remaining red-clad cultists gathered into a tight group. Seven or eight corpses lay scattered across the ground. Yet standing opposite Fang Wen, there were still at least twenty or more red-clad cultists. Standing amidst the crowd, the red-robed leader said helplessly, "Why put up a cornered fight? "No matter how high your martial arts are, can you really beat every single one of us to death?" Fang Wen chuckled softly, offering no reply. Instead, a gust of wind abruptly swept up from the flat earth, swirling and gathering behind his back. Having just acquired the Heavenly Will Four Symbols Art, he naturally had to test it out and see its effects. Killing intent saturated the woods, and the campfire snapped and fluttered violently under the gathering gale. An intense sense of crisis suddenly welled up within the red-robed leader's heart. Without a second thought, he rallied the men in front of him: "Combine your strength!!" The red-clad cultists shifted positions in rapid succession, leaving only a single man at the vanguard with his palms crossed low, facing inward. Behind him, the cultists raised their hands one after another and pressed them against the back of the person ahead. Surges of flame-like true qi poured forth, causing the palms of the man at the very front to turn crimson red. He abruptly brought his palms up to his waist, turning them upward. Between his hands, raging flames truly flared to life, burning fiercely. Faint, draconic roars began to echo as the man prepared to thrust the palm strike forward. Yet behind Fang Wen, an enormous dharma avatar had risen at some point unknown. Wreathed in swirling wind that howled fiercely, the avatar mirrored Fang Wen as he thrust forth a palm, violently unleashing a strike of its own. A powerful gale bore down, the force of a palm concealed within. The pupils of the red-clad man at the front shrank sharply. He could feel the incoming force—part palm, part blade—so overwhelming that it seemed impossible to withstand. Even with the combined might of all the red-clad cultists present, they might still be no match for him. Compared to his opponent's martial prowess, this realization terrified him to the core. Yet at this very moment, retreat was no longer an option. With flames gathered in both palms, an arrow notched on the bow had to be loosed. With a furious roar, he thrust both palms outward. A dragon's roar instantly tore through the air, the palm force surging forth like a fiery dragon to meet Fang Wen's strike. Yet before it could even reach him, the flames coating the palm force were beaten flat by the wind. When the two currents of true qi collided, the flame-laden strike was struck by Fang Wen's Wrath of the Wind God and shattered in an instant into a chaotic spray of fire, incapable of holding its form. Immediately after, it swirled backward on the howling gale. A blanket of blazing light rained down upon the red-clad cultists. For a time, wretched shrieks rose and fell across the clearing, an unbearable chorus of agony. The red-clad man standing at the very front was spared such a fate. The instant the two currents of true qi clashed, Fang Wen's internal force had already jolted him dead on the spot. Having unleashed the palm strike, Fang Wen merely swept his gaze over the group and slightly narrowed his eyes. The fiery energy contained in their strike was extraordinary. By pooling the full strength of their bodies to contend with Fang Wen, they were now suffering true qi backlash; their meridians were scorched, and dark smoke plumed from their seven orifices. Their deaths were an absolute certainty. Paying them no further heed, he leaped forward, heading straight for the red-robed leader. The red-robed man had originally believed this operation was an absolute certainty, which was why he had dared to speak so arrogantly to Fang Wen. How could he have anticipated that once Fang Wen made his move, he would crush them like dry leaves, throwing them into utter ruin? Terror gripped him completely. Having no courage left to trade blows with Fang Wen, he spun around to flee. Yet before he could take even two steps, an ominous rush of wind sounded from behind. He had no choice but to channel his full internal force, wheeling around to strike back with a palm. The fiery energy that had always proven invincible in the past crumbled completely upon contacting Fang Wen. The tremendous force sent him flying backward, hurtling three to five zhang through the air before he spat out a mouthful of blood with a choked cough. When he looked up again, Fang Wen was already standing right before him. The red-robed man let out a dry laugh. "...Come to think of it, not dying is fine too."