Chapter 559 (New)

The Master of Divine Abilities glared at Wei Yanho with eyes that promised cold slaughter. Confronted by that gaze, Wei Yanho let out a strained, awkward laugh, attempting to dissolve the elderly man’s murderous pressure.

“Heh, heh… You grasp that it was an unavoidable scenario, right?”

“Unavoidable?”

“Exactly, unavoidable. With that terrifying Bishop standing right over you, how was I supposed to pull off a rescue? I had to manufacture an opening.”

“Grrrr…”

The old man felt the heat of his blood reaching a boil.

In that instant, the Master of Divine Abilities realized a profound truth: what truly incenses a person isn’t hearing a falsehood, but being slapped with a truth that is impossible to argue against.

Wei Yanho was correct.

No soul in the martial world could have snatched him from the lethal grip of Death Demon. Yet Wei Yanho had succeeded. Logically, he should be celebrating the youth, offering tearful thanks for his salvation.

But…

“You worthless brat! What kind of pathetic justification is that? Incompetence?”

“Heh, heh… Well, let’s call it… a strategic distraction?”

“Then you should have directed your insults at Death Demon, not me! Were you actively trying to make my head explode?”

“I hit two targets with one arrow, let’s say. In the end, the outcome was favorable.”

“Grrrr…”

The Master of Divine Abilities was a man of extreme practicality. It was why he harbored a deep loathing for the sentiment that “the journey matters more than the destination.” If the result was a failure, the journey was a waste of breath. The process existed solely as a servant to the result. That had always been his guiding light.

But now, the old man was beginning to understand why the method mattered too.

In a strange twist, Wei Yanho was acting as a grand master, forcing a painful lesson upon him.

“Are you all right?”

Wei Jeonghan, unable to endure the spectacle any longer, stepped in to soothe the Master of Divine Abilities. The old man turned his gaze toward him and began to audibly grind his teeth.

“This… miserable brat… you raised him far too well… entirely too well…”

“Ahem.”

Wei Jeonghan gave an exaggerated cough and found something very interesting to look at in the opposite direction.

“Remarkable how he always lands on his feet…”

Wei Yanho consistently produced positive results. Even outcomes that defied all probability. Yet it was baffling—no, deeply regrettable—how the reactions of those around him remained so vitriolic.

“And your physical condition…?”

“I’m perfectly fine!”

The Master of Divine Abilities dismissed the concern with a sharp wave of his hand.

While he was peppered with various injuries, none were fatal.

“I won’t have the use of one arm for a while…”

The flesh wounds were shallow enough to knit back together given time. The true issue lay with his left arm. The bone had snapped, and the soft tissue was shredded, which would keep him sidelined for the foreseeable future.

“I’m still functional as long as my mind is sharp, so it’s irrelevant. As long as I’m breathing, everything is manageable. However…”

The old man snapped his head back toward Wei Yanho, who was currently whistling at the clouds.

“I apologize for being so… incompetent!”

“Heh, heh, don’t give it a second thought.”

“Grrrr…”

The Master of Divine Abilities let out a sound of pure agony at Wei Yanho’s nonchalance. Every word exchanged with the boy felt like a log thrown onto a fire.

“Is it really necessary to provoke him like that?”

“Bah, that’s how you get these guys to drop their guard.”

“You sounded like you genuinely meant it…”

“The best way to sell a lie is to fold in a bit of the truth.”

“How utterly absurd…”

His silver-tongued excuses were bottomless.

“I need to stop engaging with him.”

He knew better than anyone that interacting with Wei Yanho was a losing game. So why did he keep falling into the trap of his own temper?

The Master of Divine Abilities felt the massive chasm between rational knowledge and actual discipline, and he quickly shifted his attention back to Wei Jeonghan.

“How did you manage to arrive here? Did you have advance intelligence?”

“No. It was simply…”

Wei Jeonghan signaled toward Wei Yanho with a subtle movement of his eyes.

“We were en route to Wuhan, but we decided to pass through here to check on the state of affairs.”

“…It was Yanho’s idea?”

“It was.”

“…”

The Master of Divine Abilities squeezed his eyes shut.

“He actually saved my life.”

Based on Wei Jeonghan’s account, it was a mere whim of Wei Yanho that had allowed him to survive. There had been no logistical reason to pass through Luoyang, yet that fool had insisted, facilitating his escape from certain death.

So why did it feel like his heart was going to burst from irritation? Instead of a swell of gratitude, he only felt a tidal wave of fury.

“Grrrr…”

This youth possessed a unique talent for turning distinguished men into petty children. He knew he owed him his life, but he would rather swallow a sword than voice his thanks.

Besides, how could one even phrase such a thing?

“I appreciate you wandering off-course without a plan and stumbling upon me just in time. I am grateful for your lack of focus.”

What kind of…?

Fortunately, the Master of Divine Abilities was spared the indignity of thanking Wei Yanho, as there was someone present who was far more enraged than he was.

“You arrogant wretches!”

Suddenly, Death Demon, who had been tossed around like a sack of grain, screamed with a fury that reached the heavens.

“It seems you have lives to throw away! How dare you treat me…?”

Wei Yanho, however, didn’t even flinch.

“Old man, why is he making such a racket?”

His response was just as “positive” as ever.

“He has every right to be livid.”

“If it were me, I’d have bitten my tongue off in shame by now.”

“To be honest, as one human to another, I feel sorry for him.”

From Death Demon’s perspective, the situation had reached a peak of absurdity.

The Master of Divine Abilities stole a glance at Death Demon and leaned in to whisper to Wei Yanho:

“Are you capable of taking down that leader?”

“Take him alive?”

“Why would we bother with that? Can you kill him?”

“It’s a bit messy…”

Wei Yanho wet his lips.

“I could manage one of them, but there’s a second presence making things difficult.”

“What if we provide support?”

“Just don’t trip over your own feet; that’ll be support enough.”

“…”

Wei Yanho was nothing if not blunt.

“This isn’t a problem you solve by throwing more bodies at it. Besides, that man over there looks like a real problem.”

“You’re right. In years past, the Poison Demon claimed countless lives. Unless it’s the Poison King himself, standing against him is a nightmare. Even the Poison King can only hold him off, not truly break him.”

“Right, that… wait, what did you say?”

The Master of Divine Abilities frowned at the sudden change in Wei Yanho’s tone.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. What did you call that man?”

“Who? The Poison Demon?”

At the mention of the name, Wei Yanho’s interest flared visibly.

“He’s a specialist in toxins?”

“Yes. The supreme expert in the Demonic Arts of Poison.”

“Ohhh, is that so?”

Wei Yanho’s face twisted into a predatory smile.

“Then this is actually quite doable.”

“What?”

“Old man Poison King put me through enough hell to build up a decent resistance. I don’t give a damn about poison.”

Even a stray’s waste can be medicine if you know the secret.

Wei Yanho licked his lips.

I wonder what that fellow’s poison actually tastes like.

“So we just need to handle those two old fossils, right?”

“Are you certain you can do this?”

“Honestly, we don’t have a choice in the matter. We can’t flee, and if we let them walk, they’ll leave a trail of corpses across the land.”

“Mmm…”

Despite his attitude, Wei Yanho was dissecting the reality of the situation with ice-cold logic.

“We cannot let the Poison Demon slip away.”

Given the villain’s nature, if they allowed him to roam the Central Plains, the casualties would be astronomical. He had to be ended right here.

“It will be a grueling fight, but I’m placing my bets on you. You’re the only one left I can rely on.”

“I’ve been hearing that line way too often lately.”

Wei Yanho gave a casual shrug.

“Well, I suppose it’s the burden of the talented to do all the heavy lifting while everyone else watches.”

“Grrrr…”

The Master of Divine Abilities let out yet another groan of frustration.

If he could just find a needle and thread to sew the boy’s mouth shut, he would die a happy man. Looking at him was a constant reminder that the tongue is the source of all calamity.

Regardless, Wei Yanho sauntered forward with supreme arrogance.

Observing this, Death Demon’s face contorted.

“This little worm…”

Every stride, every flick of the eye, felt like a personal insult. No, it wasn’t just a feeling. Wei Yanho was openly mocking him.

Death Demon felt a silent, searing rage swelling within his chest.

Who was he?

He was a Bishop of the Demon Cult.

The mere mention of the Demon Cult sent the Central Plains into a state of panic. Only those who climbed over a mountain of corpses could earn the sacred title of Bishop. It was a rank that inspired terror even among their own followers.

Never in his long life had he been spoken to like this—especially by a brat from the Central Plains!

“Huu…”

Death Demon pulled in a deep, steadying breath, forcing himself into a state of calm.

He wanted to separate the boy’s head from his shoulders this very second, but…

No one who let their emotions drive them survived long enough to become a Bishop. Despite the fire consuming him, his eyes remained calculating and frozen.

“He’s no amateur.”

He had already seen flashes of Wei Yanho’s capability.

The boy’s sword was far too powerful and precise for his age. A single lapse in focus, and his own life would be on the line.

“The Demented Soul Demon didn’t give this boy enough credit.”

The Demented Soul Demon had claimed Wei Yanho was roughly equal to a Bishop. More accurately, he hadn’t quite reached that peak yet, but by their next meeting, he likely would.

It was an annoying, vague assessment.

While all Bishops shared the same rank, their actual combat effectiveness varied wildly. So what did “on par with a Bishop” truly mean?

Death Demon wet his lips.

He didn’t need a formal evaluation of Wei Yanho right now. His mission was to end him, not study him.

“He possesses terrifying growth, reckless bravery, and an eerie calm… This boy is a genuine threat.”

His skills were dangerous, but his mind was even more so.

Even for seasoned warriors, bringing 100% of their potential into a life-and-death struggle was nearly impossible. The adrenaline of combat tightened the muscles and clouded the brain. Anyone who could tap into 70% of their power while blades were clashing was considered a master.

But Wei Yanho?

“He is drowning in confidence.”

He showed not a single ripple of stress. Even now, staring down Death Demon and Poison Demon simultaneously. Facing two Bishops, he looked as relaxed as a man taking a leisurely stroll through the woods.

That kind of certainty didn’t just come from being strong. It was a core part of his being.

Incredible growth, and the ability to fight at his absolute peak without hesitation.

“Dangerous.”

This boy was a true peril. Perhaps he was the single greatest hurdle to their grand designs. It felt ridiculous to think that of a child, but he couldn’t deny the reality standing before him.

“Plucking the Master of Divine Abilities from my grasp was a noteworthy feat. I’ll grant you that. You are a rare specimen.”

“Heh, heh, I appreciate the kind words.”

“…”

Death Demon let out a dry, mirthless laugh at Wei Yanho’s apparent sincerity.

“He is utterly impossible to read.”

Usually, the powerful projected a heavy, oppressive aura. But from Wei Yanho, there wasn’t a hint of it. It was strange, yet undeniably impressive.

“However…”

“Yeah, I know, now comes the part where you kill me, right?”

“…What?”

“Or do you tell me I’ll regret the day I met you? That meeting you was the greatest misfortune of my life? Or are you going to tell me to give your regards to King Yama?”

“…”

Wei Yanho let out a long sigh.

“Why do all you old-timers have zero creativity? I’m dying to hear something original for once.”

Shiiing.

Wei Yanho pulled his white sword from its scabbard.

Then, with a dark, mocking grin, he said:

“Since I clearly can’t expect any imagination from you, I’ll just have to show you mine. Steel yourselves. This is going to be something you’ve never seen before.”

The white blade caught the sun, flashing with a brilliance that was almost blinding.