Dance Of The Dragons
Chapter 443 : Denial (3)

Chapter 443: Chapter 443 : Denial (3)

A deafening silence settled in the desert, as pairs of eyes swiveled toward Qiao Wei, and then to Shang Zichen. Standing on one side was Qiao Wei, a renowned cultivator, one of the strongest and most righteous ones in the Human Realm. On the opposing side was Shang Zichen, the Second Young Master Shang, the second son of the late Shang Daoming, the previous Tian’an Shang Sect Leader.

"Master Qiao Wei, are you accusing me of the heinous crimes?" Shang Zichen’s eyes narrowed to slits.

"Indeed, I am," Qiao Wei answered in a straightforward manner, unwavering in his resolve to unmask Shang Zichen’s terrible deeds.

An unknown light ignited in Shang Zichen’s eyes. The flicker, like a dying firefly caught in a gust, sparked anxieties of a brawl. The air grew frigid, goosebumps erupting across all cultivators’ skin as they braced for impact.

Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the light vanished, replaced by a raw cry that clawed its way out of Shang Zichen’s throat, ripping through the tense silence. "It’s the demonic cultivation! Huang Taichen has applied his dark magic on the Venerable Sword Saint Of Wushan!"

Huang Taichen widened his eyes in fear.

"He did not!" Qiao Wei hissed.

"Qiao Wei!" Bai Siyang stepped between him and Shang Zichen. "Listen to Shizun. Return to Wushan Temple with me at once!"

"Only if Shizun is willing to shelter Huang Taichen from the other sects," Qiao Wei insisted. "Shizun, please. I am not willing to give up on my disciple."

"Of all youngsters you can take as your disciple, you have to take in a troublesome one!" A crimson tide of anger flooded Bai Siyang’s eyes, making them bulge with rage. "Qiao Wei, you are really disobedient!"

"Master Qiao Wei, you don’t know what you are talking about. This is the strongest proof of demonic possession. Everyone, Master Qiao Wei is one of us. Let’s free him from Huang Taichen’s influence!" Shang Zichen cried out, inviting the others to holler their agreement in response.

With no possibility to make the others side with him, Qiao Wei had no other choice but to unsheath his sword.

"Qiao Wei!" Bai Siyang roared. "You dare to point your sword at your own shizun?"

"No," Qiao Wei pointed the sword at Shang Zichen instead. "All I beg from Shizun is to please step aside."

"Wei Wei!"

Bai Siyang tried to pull Bai Ling to his side, but the young woman escaped her father’s grip and launched herself at Qiao Wei.

"Wei Wei... Wushan Temple Sect has been your home ever since you were a child. My father took you under his wing more than fifteen years ago. We grew up together. Wei Wei, please, please return with us," she begged with tears in her eyes.

Qiao Wei gritted his teeth.

"Little Ling, I am sorry. I cannot return unless I can safeguard Huang Taichen’s safety. I will accept any kind of punishment afterward. All I need is some time."

Bai Siyang sucked in a deep breath.

"Fellow cultivators, I am sorry," Bai Siyang’s voice was heavy with a mixture of disappointment and rage. "It seems that I failed to teach my disciple well. Today, I am going to capture him by force and bring him back to Mount Wu, whether he likes it or not!"

Following Bai Siyang’s declaration, all cultivators launched at Qiao Wei, Huang Taichen, and little Zhang Fengxi with a battle cry.

Jaw clenched in tension, Qiao Wei lifted Zhang Fengxi into his arms and flung him in Huang Taichen’s direction.

"RUN!" he hissed before he swung his sword and faced the raging cultivators ahead of him.

"SHIZUN!"

"JIANBAO!"

Zhang Fengxi struggled to free himself from Huang Taichen, who was stumbling over his foot to get to Qiao Wei.

The sparkling sand, whipped into a frenzy by the desert wind, flayed Qiao Wei’s face as the group of cultivators stormed toward him. Their sharp weapons, glinting like malevolent eyes in the harsh sunlight, were raised high, casting long, ominous shadows on the parched earth.

Qiao Wei, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, stood like an unyielding monolith against the oncoming storm.

Before the storm of raging blades even commenced, another kind of storm arrived. An earsplitting blast occurred exactly between Qiao Wei and the group of cultivators. The force of the explosion sent everyone into the air. Some cultivators tumbled gracefully, propelled into controlled somersaults by the invisible hand of the explosion. Others, less fortunate, met the unforgiving sand headfirst, their cries swallowed by the roar of the blast.

"Pfui! Bleargh! Pfffft! What was that??"

The cultivators spoke loudly, one voice louder than the next. The air was filled with fine golden dust, making it difficult for them to see their surroundings, let alone find and attack their opponents.

"Qiao Wei! Qiao Wei!!!" Bai Siyang called out to his disciple as he limped around, but no answer came.

"WEI WEI!!!" Bai Ling cupped her hands in front of her mouth and shouted to no avail.

Qiao Wei, Zhang Fengxi, and Huang Taichen were gone, vanished like phantoms in the swirling haze.

Some distance away from the group of bewildered cultivators, four silhouettes were seen running along the desert. Leading at the front was a woman huddled in a long, sand-colored cloak that covered her from head to toe. Despite her best attempt to keep her hair covered, strands of her curly, long, black hair kept escaping the hood and billowing behind her.

"Esteemed guests, we will arrive soon," she announced to Qiao Wei and Huang Taichen who followed close at her heel.

Cradled in Qiao Wei’s arms, Zhang Fengxi looked around with eyes full of suspicion.

"Where are you taking us?" he demanded to know.

"Banyue tribe’s village," the woman replied curtly. "Someone is expecting to meet you."

"Kind lady, who is it?" Qiao Wei asked.

The woman turned to look at Qiao Wei. With a slight frown and an unreadable expression on her face, she answered, "The High Priestess of Banyue Tribe."