Volume One: Odd Jobs in Changshui County Chapter 89: The Fall of the Ancestor

“The patriarch has fallen!”
Zhong Zhengming could not help but burst into heartbreaking tears.
The omen of blood rain, as if the heavens themselves mourn.
In truth, when a mighty figure perishes, vast amounts of spiritual energy return to the world, causing blood rain to nourish all things.
It is like the death of a whale, bringing forth life for myriad creatures.
Yet the range is so vast, its effects are barely perceptible.
At this moment, if one stood at the very center of the catastrophe, the spiritual energy there would be wild and violent. Even the finest spiritual sanctuaries would pale in comparison.
Provided, of course, one could absorb such turbulent energy.
“That is why I have taken action against you.” The Demon-Slaying Envoy Li spoke slowly. “Director Zhong, you and I bear no enmity, but with the Zhong patriarch gone, this enormous family holds countless treasures and resources. If the descendants survive, those who take control will be uneasy.”
“Among the new generation of the Zhong family, you rank in the top five—your importance is self-evident.”
“But you are fortunate compared to others. The strongest of your generation, Zhong Tianming, has reached the seventh tier of martial cultivation, nearly advancing to the sixth. His death was exceedingly tragic. As for you, those above have ordered only your head; besides that, I will try to preserve your body intact.” Demon-Slaying Envoy Li wiped his blade as he spoke, his words chilling as a death knell.
In the arena stood a formidable demon, nearing the seventh tier of demonic power, and eight or nine martial cultivators of the eighth tier.
Such force was more than enough to deal with Zhong Zhengming.
“And what of you?” Zhong Zhengming looked to the demons, “Since time immemorial, demons and humans have been irreconcilable. Why would such powerful demons obey these humans?”
“Director Zhong, we wish to live. A martial cultivator of the sixth tier has warned us—help kill you, and they’ll send us into the Hundred Thousand Mountains and spare our lives.”
“If we refuse, we may be the ones to die.”
“Though we love this land, for the sake of survival, we must kill you and flee to the mountains.”
“So, Director Zhong, we invite you to meet your end!”
The serpent demon, coiled atop a great tree, its two bodies and single head flickering, hissed out its words.
“So be it, do it.”
Zhong Zhengming seemed to relinquish any struggle.
“Young master, no! Even if the patriarch has fallen, the Zhong family could go into hiding and perhaps rise again in the future.” Director Xue pleaded anxiously.
“Ha, do you truly believe that's possible?” Director Song of Nanwu County, his face scarred by a blade, sneered. “The world’s tides shift; fallen noble houses rarely rise again. Old officials of the previous dynasty shout daily of restoring its glory, but how many succeed?”
“Across thousands of years of history, not one has managed it.”
“The Great Zhou Dynasty has ruled for over five centuries. The strength of the previous dynasty’s remnants far surpassed the Zhong family. Yet did they restore their nation? Did they ever threaten the rule of Zhou?”

The killing cuts deeper than any blade.
Director Xue’s resolve wavered at these words.
“Do it—send Director Zhong on his final journey.” Demon-Slaying Envoy Li spoke, “We are but drifting reeds; even within the Demon-Slaying Bureau, what are we? To outsiders, we are lofty officials, but within the bureaucracy, what use is authority? When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. With the patriarch gone, the Zhong family has no purpose.”
Li pressed closer.
The martial cultivators of the eighth tier advanced.
“Kill!”
As they closed in, Zhong Zhengming suddenly erupted.
His aura rose sharply, and in the blink of an eye, he reached the seventh tier.
“He… he’s reached the seventh tier!” Director Bai exclaimed. “The rumors were true!”
None had expected Zhong Zhengming to conceal his true cultivation.
“So what?” Director Song of Nanwu County shouted. “Eighth or seventh tier, what’s the difference? With so many here, no matter how powerful, he cannot escape.”
Director Song slashed at Zhong Zhengming, but his attack was easily parried.
Demon-Slaying Envoy Li joined the fray.
The serpent demon, coiled on the tree, exhaled black smoke unceasingly.
The smoke was deadly; a single breath rendered one powerless, ready to be slaughtered.
Those from Nanwu County and the Demon-Slaying Envoy had already taken antidotes, so the black fog posed no threat.
Director Xue, upon inhaling the smoke, felt his body go numb, his movements sluggish, chest tight, breath labored.
“Hold your breath!”
Director Zhong reminded him.
Director Xue steadied himself and held his breath.
Fortunately, martial cultivators of the eighth tier had steady, slow, and long breaths.
Yet the toxic mist also burned exposed skin. Blisters erupted across Xue’s body, then his skin began to rot, the pain unbearable.
Director Zhong, in contrast, remained unharmed.
His family, knowing he worked in the Demon-Slaying Bureau, had supplied him with many rare elixirs to guard against demonic poisons.
Director Xue, merely a servant, enjoyed no such privilege.

Within the black mist, Zhong Zhengming fought as he retreated.
Director Xue managed to block only one eighth-tier martial cultivator; the remaining seven or eight attacked Zhong Zhengming together.
Amidst the clash of blades, Zhong Zhengming barely managed to defend himself, yet still suffered wounds.
“Die!”
In a moment of peril, Zhong Zhengming shouted, and from the ring he carried, a phantom drifted forth.
The phantom grew immense, towering as if to touch the heavens.
Its presence radiated destruction, ancient and wild, pressing down on all.
“This is a wisp of the Zhong patriarch’s will—retreat!”
Demon-Slaying Envoy Li panicked and called out.
Not even Zhong Tianming, the strongest of the new generation, possessed a trace of the patriarch’s will. Yet Zhong Zhengming did.
The patriarch was a first-tier martial cultivator; at such a level, even a fragment of his will was impossible for eighth-tier cultivators to withstand.
“Go!”
Within the black mist, Zhong Zhengming struck aside the martial cultivator assailing Director Xue, then seized Xue and fled.
The wisp of will was but an illusion, not truly the patriarch’s.
It could only buy them a brief moment—how far they could escape was uncertain.
Zhong Zhengming, at his peak, pushed his seventh-tier strength to the limit.
He almost seemed to fly; a single leap carried him a hundred meters away.
...
Not far away, a delicate-featured man watched intently.
Seeing Zhong Zhengming break free from so many foes, the man cursed them as fools.
He then sped toward Zhong Zhengming.
His speed was no less than Zhong Zhengming’s—perhaps even greater.
The distance between them narrowed swiftly; within a few breaths, he appeared in Zhong Zhengming’s line of sight.
“That is Deputy Envoy Bian Yuan from the Demon-Slaying Bureau of Anxi Prefecture, a branch of the Bian family.” Director Xue’s right eyelid twitched as he warned Zhong Zhengming.