Chapter 36: Lu Changsheng Appears; The Death of the Ghost Mask!

Liu Hongluan trudged forward on the frozen ground. Carrying Long Fei all this time had drained all of her strength. Eventually, she stumbled and hit the ground with a heavy thud, dragging Long Fei down with her.

Panicked, she quickly cradled his head. "Brother Fei, are you alright? We've reached the iceberg deep in Mount Wu. Great Hero Lu may be here... So please, wake up..."

Despite her desperate cries, Long Fei remained completely still, his eyes shut. He was deathly cold, his face ashen like that of a corpse. He was still clinging to life, but any further delay would surely push him to the brink of death.

The Ghost Mask emerged on the frozen plain, visible to his prey. He did not rush in; instead, he walked toward Liu Hongluan with slow, deliberate steps. He glanced at the swirling snow in the sky and extended his hand, letting snowflakes gently land on his palm.

He gave a long sigh. "The only reason you'd run all the way into the depths of Mount Wu must be that there's someone here you're hoping will save you. So, where is he?"

Liu Hongluan gritted her teeth and hugged Long Fei's head tightly, trying to keep him warm. Her only answer to the Ghost Mask was a fierce glare.

"You won't talk?" he sneered. "Fine, it doesn't matter. You can no longer run away from me. If there's someone here, he better come out now, because I'm about to finish both of you off."

The Ghost Mask approached them slowly, weapons glinting in his hands. With a single flick, he could kill both Liu Hongluan and Long Fei on the spot.

Ten steps away... nine, eight... seven, six... Just five steps away from his target, the Ghost Mask suddenly halted, as if waiting for something.

The wind howled across the frozen plain, and snowflakes drifted endlessly from the sky. The biting chill seeped into Liu Hongluan's body, making her tremble uncontrollably.

After a long silence, the Ghost Mask sighed softly. "So there really is no one here. Poor thing, you struggled so hard to reach this desolate place, and no one's coming to save you. Well then, I shall send you on your way."

With that, he raised his weapons. Liu Hongluan wrapped her arms tightly around Long Fei, bracing herself for death's arrival.

Whoosh...!

The wind howled without pause. Liu Hongluan waited for what felt like an eternity, but death never came. She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the Ghost Mask. He stood in place, weapons still in his hands but no longer pointed at her and Long Fei. Instead, they were directed elsewhere, along with his gaze—fixed on something behind.

Liu Hongluan spun her head around, and a shudder instantly passed through her—not from fear, but from an overwhelming surge of joy. A familiar figure was walking toward them.

"Great Hero Lu..." Her voice quavered. She had carried Long Fei into the depths of Mount Wu for this very moment.

Naturally, Lu Changsheng had already seen her and Long Fei, and he was aware of how grim Long Fei's condition was. Even so, his eyes rested squarely on the Ghost Mask.

"You did this to Long Fei?"

"Indeed."

"And you left him alive so you could find me?"

The Ghost Mask gave a slight nod. "If you were the one who killed Shen Lun, then yes, I've been searching for you."

Lu Changsheng remained silent, for Shen Lun had indeed died by his hand.

At that moment, Liu Hongluan said with alarm, "Great Hero Lu, he is the Ghost Mask, the man behind Shen Lun. Brother Fei once said he is among the most formidable martial artists below the Divine Strength Realm. Be careful."

Lu Changsheng nodded, but his expression remained calm as he said evenly, "Hear that? Seems like Long Fei held you in high regard."

The Ghost Mask gave a cold smile. "Long Fei was indeed someone remarkable. Without my personal intervention, no one below the Divine Strength Realm could have handled him. As for that fool Shen Lun, his strength was lacking, yet even wounded, Long Fei would not have been able to kill him. For you to have done it proves your ability is not without merit."

The Ghost Mask's condescending gaze fell upon Lu Changsheng.

Lu Changsheng slowly gripped the short sword in his hand and said evenly, "I've already slain the one who was once hailed as the greatest below the Divine Strength Realm. I wonder if you're stronger than him?"

The Ghost Mask arched a brow and sneered. "The title of the strongest below the Divine Strength Realm can’t be claimed by a mere nobody."

"Is that so?" Lu Changsheng said nonchalantly, flashing a smile. "By the way, he had a moniker in the jianghu. They called him the Saber-Dragging Heavenly King. I wonder if you've heard of him?"

"What? The Saber-Dragging Heavenly King, Li Ji?"

The Ghost Mask's expression shifted at once. It was absurd. How could Li Ji, famed across the martial world, have been slain by this nameless martial artist standing before him?

In that very instant where his heart wavered with doubt, Lu Changsheng made his move. This was the moment he had been waiting for. A lion would go all out even against a rabbit, let alone against a top-tier Organ Refinement martial artist like the Ghost Mask.

Whoosh!

The short sword flashed free from its sheath. Lu Changsheng had perfected Deathflash, and now he executed it as naturally as if by instinct. In the instant the sword appeared, his figure streaked across several zhang, closing the distance to the Ghost Mask in a heartbeat.

In that moment, the Ghost Mask felt only one thing: an intense and overwhelming sense of danger. Lu Changsheng had moved so swiftly that even he could barely track him. The sense of danger flared up in his chest, and almost by instinct, he flung his hand up. The next instant, a storm of hidden weapons erupted.

The Ghost Mask was a master of hidden weapons. His strikes were deadly accurate, never missing their mark. Now his barrage filled the sky like a dense net, closing over Lu Changsheng and leaving him virtually no chance of escape.

However, Lu Changsheng didn't falter in the slightest. Without even thinking of retreating, he lifted his short sword.

Swish, swish, swish!

Lu Changsheng's short sword whirled, weaving into a storm of blossoms. The blades overlapped in dense succession, forming a radiant curtain of light that intercepted the oncoming flurry of hidden weapons.

Clang, clang, clang!

The Ghost Mask's barrage of steel clashed with the swirling blossoms but failed to pierce through. One after another, the weapons fell to the ground.

The very instant he lost his weapons, the Ghost Mask made his move, advancing with a short word in hand instead of retreating. Cloaked by the fierce snowstorm, his approach was silent, and in the blink of an eye, he stood before Lu Changsheng.

Whoosh!

He thrust his sword forward with unbelievable speed—faster than Shen Lun ever could. Within the jianghu, the Ghost Mask was feared for his unmatched mastery of hidden weapons, for once he released them, they almost never missed their mark. However, few knew that the sword he wielded now was far more terrifying. He never drew it except in a true life-or-death battle. Nearly all who had seen this blade had perished.

Now, that short sword hovered just a cun[1]from Lu Changsheng's chest. No one below the Divine Strength Realm could parry at such close range, and Lu Changsheng was no exception.

Even though he had undergone Blood Replacement and cultivated Jade Bones—transforming his physique nearly to the point of rebirth—he had yet to step into the Divine Strength Realm. He retained his mortal flesh and blood, and thus he would not withstand the Ghost Mask's deadly strike.

Liu Hongluan's mouth fell open as fear seized her face. At the same moment, a faint smile touched the Ghost Mask's lips. It was over; the duel had been decided the moment he drew his sword.

However, in this critical moment, Lu Changsheng's expression never shifted. The Ghost Mask even thought he caught a flicker of mockery in those calm eyes. Did this man, about to face death, dare mock him? What right did Lu Changsheng have to do so?

But in the next instant, the Ghost Mask understood.

Shhhk.

A flash of white light surged briefly. Lu Changsheng still stood in place, his body shifting only slightly. The Ghost Mask's short sword had halted, still a cun away from his chest. That single cun felt like an uncrossable chasm.

"This isn't swordsmanship..." the Ghost Mask rasped.

"Regardless, it only needs to kill," Lu Changsheng replied in a frosty tone, his voice calm and steady.

At one point, a dagger had emerged in his left hand, and the flash of white light had been the glint of its blade. Now, blood was dripping from the blade's edge, staining the snow.

With a heavy thud, the Ghost Mask collapsed to the ground. A thin crimson line had opened across his neck, though none could say when it had happened.

1. 1 cun (寸) ≈ 3.3 cm ≈ 1.3 inches ☜