The Stars Beyond

Chapter 58: Carrying The Fate Of The Old Arts On His Shoulders

That night, I took down a Grandmaster with a single kick at the Pamir Plateau! Wang Xuan mused that if he had already successfully retired, he could start his memoir with that line.

Sadly, that was pure fantasy. Please visit fr𝐞𝐞w𝒏.𝒸𝑜𝔪 website to read fastest update

Right now, under the watchful eyes of countless onlookers, a young man in his early twenties had defeated Xia Qing with just one kick. Avoiding attention was impossible. However, this put tremendous pressure on him. He was acutely aware of the implications of his actions. Without a doubt, he was now the center of attention. Not just the individuals from the old and new camps on the ground, but even the tycoons and various organizations on the battleships above were probably taken aback.

And indeed, they were. All eyes were on him; from the battleships in the sky to the crowd on the ground, men and women alike looked on with expressions of disbelief. He was simply too young. Even if Xia Qing had been gravely injured, the fact that she had been defeated by a single kick was a bit much to comprehend.

"Who said the Old Arts is dead? Where did this young fellow come from? He's good," remarked an elderly man from a distant super battleship, watching the large screen.

......

A man like him would naturally have no shortage of experts in his employment. A middle-aged man spoke up, "We continue our observation. Perhaps it was a fluke, caused by Xia Qing’s injuries."

In the super battleship where the authorities of the Old World were present, the deputy chief remained silent. He intently gazed at the screen, first focusing on Old Chen, then shifting to Wang Xuan. He uttered not a word.

...

On the ground, practitioners of the Old Arts were deeply shocked. As insiders, they knew all too well the might of a Grandmaster. Such a figure was esteemed and revered. Even if they were severely injured, they could easily defeat practitioners of the Old Arts.

Wu Yin was astonished. Just how powerful is Xiao Wang? What level of expertise did he possess? He had managed to defeat a Grandmaster at such a critical moment. Wu Chenglin also kept his eyes on Wang Xuan. They intended to collaborate extensively with the Adventurer’s Guild, which required the involvement of experts in the Old Arts. Wang Xuan was the perfect candidate.

Qing Mu realized that the impact of Wang Xuan's kick would not just cause a small ripple. Being the center of attention was the last thing Wang Xuan wanted. He was perfectly calm and lucid. His swift and decisive kick might have made him the center of admiration and astonishment. It might seem glamorous, but it also meant he would now be under intense scrutiny, even through a metaphorical magnifying glass.

This was contrary to his original intent. Wang Xuan wanted to maintain a low profile and stay away from scrutinizing eyes. Being in the spotlight came with its fair share of risks, unpredictabilities, and even imminent dangers.

Wang Xuan was the first to rush over, supporting Old Chen. He was genuinely worried, as his old colleague's condition was terrible, breathing heavily with his chest heaving. Additionally, his body was burning hot.

"Master!" Qing Mu, on the verge of tears, held onto the other arm of Old Chen.

"Don't panic. I won't die so soon. I can hold on until we leave," Old Chen replied in a deep voice. Beneath his cold silver mask, his voice still carried an icy tone.

He signaled to Qing Mu to remain calm and not to lose composure here. Any matters should be discussed after they leave the scene.

A group of people rushed over, surrounding Old Chen.

"Old Chen, are you okay?" Wu Chenglin asked.

They recognized the aftermath of today's battle. It signified the resurgence of the Old Arts. The major corporations and various organizations would surely resume pouring resources into their camp. The slowly advancing group, unsurprisingly, had close ties to the three Grandmasters. Their contempt was evident. They had discerned that Old Chen was now severely weakened. The fact that he had not pursued Xia Qing at the end was a clear sign that he was no longer capable of fighting.

"Attack!"

From the ranks of the New Arts camp, a voice took the lead, bellowing the battle cry, unable to contain their urge to charge forward. He was backed by a sea of followers. In their eyes, apart from Old Chen, the Old Arts camp was negligible, nowhere near a match for their own side.

Those at the forefront were either close friends or disciples of the three Grandmasters. Their intent was clear: capitalize on the moment, rush forth as one, and take down Old Chen. Their needs to avenge Mo Hai, Xia Qing, and Chen Kai were burning.

Wang Xuan quickly positioned himself at the forefront. There was not much to say. Even if he wished to stay unnoticed now, it was impossible. Seeing the frenzied onslaught of the group, he braced himself for the inevitable battle.

"Let go!" Old Chen murmured, signaling Qing Mu to let go. Then, gripping his blood-drenched black sword, he stepped forward.The approaching adversaries instantly tensed up, their steps slowing. Fear gripped their hearts. They had witnessed Old Chen's prowess today, which had an almost godlike aura of death, chilling them to their cores.

Wang Xuan paused, eyeing the resolute figure of Old Chen as he ventured forth. A suspicion dawned upon him; had his old colleague intentionally waited for these foes to emerge?

Given their recent interactions, where Old Chen had repeatedly baited opponents, Wang Xuan felt increasingly wary, unable to discern the old man's true intentions.

As Old Chen passed by him, he whispered so softly it was almost inaudible, "I'm reaching my limit. Once I deal with their top-tier experts, the rest...I’ll leave to you."

With that, Old Chen leaped, covering a distance of over ten meters in a blink. Brandishing his dark sword, he charged straight into the heart of the crowd!

Although Old Chen's physical state was deteriorating, his valor remained unparalleled. Like a tiger among sheep, he tore through his enemies with an unseen ferocity. His sword gleamed mercilessly as he cut down expert after expert. None of them could halt his onslaught.

Witnessing this, Wang Xuan was stirred. There was no way he could stand idly by, watching Old Chen push himself to the brink of death. There was no more room for subtlety or hiding. A burning resolve ignited within him, propelling him forward into the fray.

Others followed after him as well. They roared as they joined in charge. Old Chen's perilous state deeply concerned them, causing a pang of anguish to strike their hearts.

The old man continued to dominate the battlefield. His blade shimmered brilliantly, ensuring every stroke meant death for yet another master of the New Arts. However, blood trickled continuously from his nose and mouth. His chest heaved violently, as if on the verge of exploding. It was a terrifying sight to behold.

Many realized the grim truth: Old Chen would likely not make it out alive today. His injuries were irreparable, and now he was expanding his last ounce of strength to vanquish as many foes as possible.

The eyes of many from the Old Arts faction reddened with emotion. They felt powerless, witnessing Old Chen carry the weight of the battle almost single-handedly. Nonetheless, they were determined, pushing themselves forward, aiming to join the heart of the battle.

In this moment, many beheld Old Chen shining brighter than ever before, radiant and dazzling. His sword mirrored his brilliance, shining with an unrivaled edge that dominated the battlefield.

However, this brilliance seemed to be his swan song. He had not coughed up blood during his clash with the three Grandmasters, but now his garb was stained with it, and blood flowed continuously from his nose and mouth.

"Fall back, Old Chen! Stop fighting!" Wang Xuan shouted, unable to contain his emotions. A sour sensation tinged his nostrils. Pushing his own limits, he once again tapped into the arts recorded in the Five Golden Pages.

"Charge!" With a final roar, Old Chen swung his sword, heads rolled, and the remaining masters were swiftly vanquished by his blade. Bathed in the same glow as his sword, he gasped, "Had I lived in ancient times, before the Old Arts were lost, I'd have been destined to become a founder, ascending to near-immortality. Who do you think you are compared to that?!”

Standing tall with his sword by his side, Old Chen radiated light. His voice echoed through the mountains. There was a hint of melancholy in his demeanor, mixed with suppressed pride and passion. It was tragic, he was simply born in the wrong era.

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