Chapter 448: Seven Slayers Hall

Chapter 448: Seven Slayers Hall

The Fire Taoist looked at Xi Menhuai, whose head was now exposed, his face lit up with undisguised glee.

His words carried a hint of mockery, something Xi Menhuai would have swallowed quietly in the past.

No match for him in skill, he had no grounds for rebuttal.

But today, having suffered a great blow and having drunk heavily, the liquor burned in his blood, fire coursing through his veins. His eyes reddened instantly.

The phrase 'no real skill' struck particularly deep, piercing his heart. Unable to hold back, he glared at the Fire Taoist—someone he would never dare provoke under normal circumstances—and let loose a stream of filthy insults.

Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, his thoughts flowed more sharply than usual, allowing him to hurl obscenities with shocking eloquence.

His tirade was so relentlessly inventive that it lasted a full teapot's worth of cursing without pause.

The Fire Taoist was left utterly flabbergasted, couldn't believe what he was hearing.

At first, hearing Xi Menhuai curse at him, his initial reaction was shock.

How dare this nobody Xiaoxiao find the courage to insult him?

Then came fury—who did this punk think he was? How dare he keep going without end?

Finally, he tried to retort...

But Xi Menhuai’s curses came in such a relentless, machine-gun barrage that the Fire Taoist couldn’t even find a gap to interject.

Occasionally, he jabbed a shaking finger in rage, but it was futile.

Somehow, he strangely found himself listening intently, deciding to learn a few phrases for future verbal battles, so he wouldn't be tongue-tied next time.

And so, he listened for a full teapot's worth of time.

Xi Menhuai, his throat parched from the effort, finally had to stop.

As the two stared at each other in silence, the Fire Taoist suddenly realized—he had just taken this nonstop tongue-lashing. What the hell was he doing just taking it?

Unable to contain his anger, he glared at Xi Menhuai:

"You got the balls to curse at me!?"

"...Damn right I cursed you. What will you do about it? If you're man enough, kill me. I don’t want to live anyway."

Xi Menhuai’s heart was filled with acidic misery. Reflecting on his impulsive decision to make that rash exit earlier, he wondered—what about Jingjing now?

Would she even... would she actually cry over me?

And if she did, would she throw herself into Su Mo’s arms, seeking comfort?

"Then... then they..."

His mind raced with wild thoughts, each one twisting the knife deeper.

As the saying goes, a man does not shed tears easily, but only when his heart is truly broken.

Xi Menhuai was indeed heartbroken now, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks.

The Fire Taoist, upon seeing this, let out a mocking laugh:

"A real man faces death without flinching. What’s with all this whimpering? Quit acting like some weepy girl, utterly disgraceful."

"...You’re the one who’s like a woman, your father’s like a woman, and so was your grandfather!"

Xi Menhuai wasn’t even afraid of death—why would he fear the Fire Taoist?

He immediately fired back.

The Fire Taoist’s face darkened:

"Enough! Leave family out of this."

"Bullshit! I already cursed your ancestors eight generations back earlier. Isn’t it a bit late to say that now?"

I couldn’t even get a word in earlier!

The Fire Taoist seethed with resentment and glared fiercely at Xi Menhuai:

"If you weren’t my cash cow, I’d have beaten you to death today.

"But this sudden change in your temper—what's eating you?"

This struck a nerve with Xi Menhuai.

He was drowning in his misery with no one to confide in.

Now that he was at the Fire Taoist’s mercy, not knowing if he'd live or die, and with the alcohol loosening his tongue, the drunk and bitter Xi Menhuai decided to spill his guts.

He spoke of how he and Shangguan Jingjing had fallen in love, how they had hatched their escape plan.

How everything went to hell at the docks, forcing them to split up.

How his own journey had gone sideways, leading to his capture by the Fire Taoist.

And how, after busting his ass to reach Tianqi Island, Shangguan Jingjing had showed up with some other guy by her side.

At the worst parts, his voice cracked, his fists balled up, and his entire body shook.

The Fire Taoist sneered upon hearing this:

"So that’s it. You’ve been screwed over by a woman too.

"No shit you didn't stick around with the Qi family—there’s a whole screwed-up story behind it.

"Tch, women are no-good backstabbers the world over. That’s a truth I'll drink to."

"Wait..."

Xi Menhuai was taken aback. "You... you got burned too?"

The Fire Taoist gave him a sidelong glance:

"You’d do well not to pry into my business."

"...I told you everything about me, can't you spare a few words?"

"You're young, why so nosy?"

The Fire Taoist glanced at the sky outside the temple. "Time’s almost upon us. They’re nearly here."

"They... who are they?"

Xi Menhuai stiffened slightly.

"Who else?"

The Fire Taoist grinned. "Buyers, obviously."

"Buyers..."

Xi Menhuai frowned deeply. "You’ve called me your ‘fortune tree’—so this whole time, you meant to sell me? But who exactly wants to buy me?"

"You'll know when they arrive."

The Fire Taoist pulled out a roasted chicken wrapped in lotus leaves from his robe, gave it a quick heat over the flames, tore off a drumstick, and flung it at Xi Menhuai.

"But don't worry, they may not wish you harm."

Xi Menhuai held the drumstick but was lost in thought, his face dark.

A seasoned wanderer of the martial world, the Fire Taoist was no fool. Noticing his odd expression, his instincts prickled.

"What’s eating at you?"

Xi Menhuai instinctively shook his head, but after a moment of thought, he looked ready to say something.

Before he could open his mouth, however, the Fire Taoist turned his gaze outside the ruined temple, stood up, and gave a thin smile.

"They're here."

As he spoke, he suddenly pressed Xi Menhuai's head down, hit a few pressure points, then shoved him into a sack, tied it shut, and tossed him behind a pillar.

The moment he was done, the whisper of approaching robes cut through the wind, growing closer.

The fire the Fire Taoist had built roared to life, flames leaping higher.

As the light flickered and embers drifted through the air, three figures materialized in the long-abandoned mountain temple.

All three were dressed identically—swathed in black, each wearing a half-mask.

The leader of the group immediately locked eyes with the Fire Taoist.

"The goods?"

"Where's the money?"

The Fire Taoist’s lips curled.

Silent, the leader held out his palm.

One of the men standing behind took out a bundle from his robe and placed it into the leader's palm.

The leader reached into the bundle, pulled out a gold ingot, and tossed it to the Fire Taoist.

Without ceremony, the Fire Taoist hefted it in his hand, bit down on it, then gave an approving nod.

"Good, good. Your word is good, as expected."

As he spoke, he reached behind the pillar, but his smile froze when his hand found nothing.

When he withdrew his hand, it was empty.

The three black-clad men across from him watched silently, their eyes flickering with confusion.

The Fire Taoist groped behind the pillar once more, then broke into a sudden grin.

"Give me the money first, and I'll hand him over. Right now, I've got my hand around his throat. If you don't pay up, I'll wring his neck."

"..."

The leader's gaze remained calm as he let out a quiet breath.

"As you wish."

With that, he tossed the bundle to the Fire Taoist.

Upon catching it, the Fire Taoist didn't rush. Instead, he set it on the ground, unwrapped it, and carefully examined the contents.

Under the firelight, the gold gleamed brilliantly, downright mesmerizing.

The Fire Taoist audibly gulped, then picked up three ingots.

"For your trouble, gentlemen."

"???"

The three men were stunned. This was payment for goods—never had they heard of a seller giving back part of the payment as "tea money."

What kind of game was this?

But before they could react, the whistle of gold slicing through air reached their ears—sharp and swift.

Their faces fell as they twisted aside, hands shooting out to catch the flying ingots.

By the time they secured the gold and looked back, the Fire Taoist had already sloppily gathered up the remaining treasure. With a swift movement, he kicked his Qinggong into gear and was nearly out of the ruined temple.

Rage exploded instantly.

"YOU DARE?!!"

The Fire Taoist fled at full tilt, shouting over his shoulder.

"I didn’t want this, but inside the temple—"

Before he could finish, twin crimson blade arcs slashed toward him from both sides, arriving in the blink of an eye.

The arcs weren’t dazzling, but their condensed killing intent sent chills down the spine.

In desperation, the Fire Taoist raised both palms, conjuring two blazing palm strikes to meet the attack.

Bang! Bang!

The instant his palm strike met the blade's edge, Fire Taoist grunted through clenched teeth. Not only did the pain from his two fingers—previously broken by Su Mo—flare up again, but he was also flung backward into the ruined temple.

Before he could regain his balance, another blade came slashing at him from behind. With no option, he pushed off the ground, twisting midair until he was upside down. At that moment, he saw the black-clad man’s blade flash upward from below.

Trapped, Fire Taoist had no choice but to exchange blows with his attacker in this awkward position.

As his body descended, two daggers were already closing in.

Fire Taoist cursed silently.

He could only raise his arms to block. The moment he parried the twin blades, before he could gather strength to counterattack, a sudden blow struck his back, sending him stumbling forward helplessly.

Slapping the ground with his left palm, he kicked off—only to see that the people outside had now entered the temple.

There were seven of them in total.

All dressed identically, each wielding a dagger.

Only now did Fire Taoist notice a single blood-red character carved into each blade: *Slay*.

His blood turned cold.

"You… could you be from the Seven Slayers Hall?"

The Seven Slayers Hall was seldom mentioned in the martial world, existing only in hushed rumors among a select few.

Because so few had ever seen them, their existence was often dismissed as myth.

Fire Taoist had heard such tales before, but never taken them seriously.

Yet now, to his horror, he had actually encountered them!

"Goddamn it, why didn’t I recognize them earlier?"

Fire Taoist inwardly seethed, cursing his misfortune.

If these truly were the legendary Seven Slayers Hall, then there would be no surviving this.

The name "Seven Slayers Hall" stemmed from a single phrase: "Heaven bestows all things to nurture man, yet man offers nothing in return to Heaven."

Thus—*slay, slay, slay, slay, slay, slay, slay*!

Their origins and motives remained a mystery—no background, no purpose.

Only one fact burned in Fire Taoist’s mind:

Whenever they struck, no one was left alive.

Under normal circumstances, Fire Taoist wouldn’t have minded testing his strength against them.

But today, he had already been injured by Su Mo earlier.

And now, this eerie turn of events in the ruined temple at night only deepened the dread.

He had clearly placed Xi Menhuai behind the pillar—just an arm’s length away.

As a result, despite being mere inches away, Xi Menhuai had vanished into thin air.

Clearly, this place was strange and no place to stick around.

He sprang up, hell-bent on escaping, and dared not hesitate for even a moment. He lunged toward the broken temple's window.

"Not so fast!"

How could the seven members of Seven Slayers Hall allow him to flee?

Not only had their agreed-upon deal fallen through, but he had also swindled their gold.

Bastard had it coming.

Seven figures launched after him, intent on pursuit.

Yet, to their surprise, Fire Taoist, who had just leaped out of the temple, was suddenly hurled back inside without warning.

For a moment, they were stunned, thinking he might be pulling a fake retreat to mislead them.

But even if such a tactic were effective, why pull this stunt before they even chased him?

Swiftly, the seven figures reversed course mid-air and landed back inside the temple, surrounding Fire Taoist completely.

Seven Slayers Hall always operated in groups of seven.

These seven formed a formation known as the Heaven and Earth Seven Slayers Array!

This formation radiated deadly intent, and when combined with their Heaven and Earth Seven Slayers Blades, they became like reapers incarnate, annihilating all in their path.

Trapped within the formation, Fire Taoist rolled upright and couldn't help but curse:

"Which bastard did this?"

He hadn't turned back willingly—just as he reached the window, before he could even grasp what was happening, a kick to his chest had booted him right back in.

No doubt, this was the same person who had secretly taken Xi Menhuai.

Not only had they torpedoed his whole operation, but now they had thrown him into the midst of these seven killers.

Rage burned through him so intensely that his chest ached.

The seven members of Seven Slayers Hall locked eyes, yet even amid this sudden turn of events, their eyes remained ice-cold.

"Capture him first."

The leader barked the call, and the seven struck simultaneously.

In an instant, steel came down like hail, and murderous aura crackled through the air.

"You really think I'll go down easy?"

Fire Taoist understood clearly—even if he tried to explain that some third party was playing them in this temple, they wouldn’t believe him now.

More importantly, he had no chance to speak at all.

Without further hesitation, he brought his hands together, his palms suddenly glowed blood-red.

Though the pain from his injured fingers still lanced up his arms, pain was the least of his worries now.

He flung both palms upward, his entire body transforming into a blazing flame, darting endlessly through the blade storm.

The Fire Taoist, named for his mastery of the "Profound Extreme Blazing Palm," wielded a technique as fierce as fire itself. Yet, lacking the balance of yin and yang, this palm art was dangerously unorthodox, causing his internal strength to manifest outwardly—resulting in his crimson hair and a flushed face.

Even so, its power was fearsome.

Unfortunately, the Seven Slayers Hall’s blade glows were anything but ordinary.

Within the formation, the Fire Taoist dodged and struck, but in barely a dozen exchanges, his body was already covered in gashes.

A cold sting flashed at his neck—blood welled from a fresh slash.

With a snarl, he thrust both palms forward, sending two flaming palm strikes flying.

The two black-clad figures charging at him immediately split apart, and the palm imprints struck the wooden door of the crumbling temple, igniting a blazing fire.

After driving them back, the Fire Taoist wasted no time. He retreated two steps, allowing the seven to reform their formation.

Then, with a swift motion, he yanked the big red gourd from his waist.

Removing the stopper, the heady scent of liquor instantly filled the air, enough to make one dizzy.

Without hesitation, the Fire Taoist tipped his head back and chugged a huge gulp.

As the liquor coursed down, a deep crimson hue spread from head to toe in the blink of an eye.

With a surge of internal energy, a roaring *whoosh* erupted—flames burst to life around the Fire Taoist, wrapping him in flames.

Reattaching the gourd to his waist, he stood wreathed in fire, palms raised. The surrounding flames obeyed his will, coalescing into a fist-sized fireball in his grasp.

At this moment, the Fire Taoist bellowed:

*"Heavenfire Scorches the Plains!!"*

Did yelling the move’s name actually help? Who knew.

But as his palms thrust outward, a barrage of palm strikes, wreathed in flames drawn from the fireball, erupted outward.

The seven members of the Seven Slayers Hall didn’t even blink.

Faced with the oncoming blaze, they suddenly gathered together, lining up in formation before the Fire Taoist.

Gripping their blades with both hands, they swung downward in unison—

*HUM!*

Seven blood-red blade glows merged into one, forming a colossal slash that split the crumbling temple down the middle, as though cleaving it in two.

In an instant, the fiery palm force was torn apart, exploding against the temple’s broken walls.

"Not good!"

The Fire Taoist’s face fell.

The moment the seven shifted their formation, he knew trouble had arrived.

"Heavenfire Scorches the Plains" was devastating, but at his current level of cultivation, he’d drained the whole gourd of "Pure Yang Brew" just to barely unleash it.

If these seven people had remained scattered in their original seven positions,

even if they weren't reduced to ashes, they would have surely suffered severe injuries.

Yet unexpectedly, the seven suddenly changed their formation, merging their seven strikes into one—a classic tactic of concentrating force to break through a dispersed defense.

With the power of "Scorching Flames Across the Land" spread thin, how could it withstand such an attack?

Just as he was about to close his eyes and await death, a voice suddenly laughed:

"Not so fast, not so fast. I still have some use for this red-haired fellow—can't let you kill him as you please."

The voice came from above, accompanied by silken strands of flowing water descending.

The water formed swords, weaving a deadly net in all directions!

With a deafening hum, the colossal crimson blade energy dissipated in an instant.

The seven masked members of *Seven Slayers Hall* grunted simultaneously, staggering backward with blood trickling from their lips.

When they looked up, their previously calm eyes now carried a hint of wariness.

Through the swirling smoke and licking flames, a young man had appeared unnoticed in a corner of the ruined temple.

A bulging cloth sack rested at his feet.

This person was none other than Su Mo.

The Fire Taoist shot a glance back and gave quick nods:

"I'm out!"

Seeing Su Mo appear, how could he not realize the real nature of the 'ghostly presence' in the temple?

Without a second thought, he spun on his heel and bolted.