Two Madmen

Two Madmen...

Ouyang Ting's words ignited a firestorm of fury within Chu Mang. A surge of overwhelming aura emanated from him. What had Fan Le possibly done to warrant such a severe punishment? Why was Ouyang Ting demanding his arm to be chopped off?

A tempestuous wind swept the area, propelling the two Ouyang cultivators and Qiyun's third prince, Ye Mo, toward Fan Le, effectively surrounding him. With resolve, Qin Wentian and Chu Mang positioned themselves on either side of Fan Le. The training grounds pulsated with tension, a palpable heaviness weighing down the air.

To be clear, Ouyang Ting wasn't contemplating an all-out brawl. The idea of escalating the situation to that level hadn't crossed her mind.

In all her sparring experiences, she had never encountered such a genuine fright. And her initial reaction was to exact retribution for that fear by demanding Fan Le's arm as compensation. Ouyang Ting's choice of punishment was devoid of emotional attachment, a reflection of how she viewed this as a minor matter.

"Are you alright?" Ouyang Ting's companions asked, a trace of concern in their voices. Ouyang Ting shook her head slightly, causing her companions to direct their gazes at Fan Le, their eyes brimming with a cold, murderous intent.

"Miss Ting." A powerful voice shattered the oppressive atmosphere. All eyes turned to Qin Wentian, who continued, "You're the one who called for us to give our all. I implore you to rescind your command and extend an apology to my friend."

"Absolutely ludicrous. You beckon us to be your sparring partners, only to ensure our defeat? You believe that we should lose? With such a skewed mindset, how can you ever hope to improve? If we were outside these walls, you'd have perished countless times over by now." Qin Wentian's voice was icy, his words like a bitter chill. Ouyang Ting's glare, however, only intensified.

She replied coldly, "Sever this man's arms as well."

"You insolent wench!" Chu Mang's roar reverberated through the air, causing Ouyang Ting's complexion to turn an unsightly shade.

Humiliated within the confines of her own domain? This was an unprecedented occurrence.

"Annihilate him!" Ouyang Ting's furious cry resounded. Qin Wentian's aura erupted without restraint, an undeniable manifestation of his power. His visit to the Ouyang Aristocrat Clan was driven by the intention of reuniting with his friend, Ouyang Kuangsheng. Aware of the challenge ahead to meet him, he understood the clan's strict access controls. Approaching a member of the Ouyang direct lineage wasn't as simple as introducing oneself to a stranger.

Given their close bond, he couldn't overlook the possibility of a relation between Ouyang Kuangsheng and Ouyang Ting. The two could even be siblings. In order to avoid unnecessary complications and out of respect for their history, Qin Wentian had no interest in instigating unwarranted disturbances. Besides, their recent arrival at the Azure Continent gave him no reason to hurry his departure.

"Ouyang Kuangsheng and I share a history. This is your last chance. Revoke your order and offer an apology," Qin Wentian's voice held a frosty edge as the approaching crowd halted. Ouyang Ting fixed her gaze intently on him, her response eagerly awaited.

The advancing group faltered. Acquainted with Ouyang Kuangsheng? Likely an attempt to manipulate the situation and save himself from impending doom. The audacity of the claim was laughable.

Ouyang Kuangsheng, given his lineage and personality, had only a few acquaintances in all of the Azure Continent. Qin Wentian's youthful age and his mere fifth-level Yuanfu aura did little to convince them that his connection with Ouyang Kuangsheng was anything but a fabrication. The whole notion seemed absurd.

"Even if your claim is true, it won't spare you from my wrath today. Attack," Ouyang Ting ordered with icy resolve. Her followers moved into position, converging on Qin Wentian and his companions. Guards from the vicinity joined the commotion, their encirclement creating an inescapable trap.

The strongest among the aggressors, a young man bearing the Ouyang name, boasted a cultivation at the seventh level of Yuanfu. The young lady was at the sixth level, and Qiyun's third prince stood at the fifth. The odds of their opponents' strengths were substantial.

"Get lost!" Chu Mang bellowed, swinging his colossal axe. Fueled by rage, he barreled towards the seventh-level Yuanfu practitioner.

Fan Le engaged Ye Mo in combat, while the young lady lunged at Qin Wentian with her short sword. What baffled them was the inaction of Ouyang Ting's companions. They stood idly by, mere spectators. Ye Mo's expression darkened. Fan Le's prowess was astonishing, and his intent to impress Ouyang Ting was evident. Yet, he didn't foresee his so-called allies lounging in indifference, arms crossed, content to watch the unfolding spectacle.

The young lady's sword thrust was swift and sharp, aimed directly at Qin Wentian. However, a surge of overwhelming demonic qi erupted from his body in response. His eyes remained shut, yet within an instant, a piercing agony shot through the young lady's mind. A tremendous pressure emanated from Qin Wentian, like a tempest within him.

"RUMBLEEE~"

Qin Wentian's Mandate of Force surged outward as he countered the sword with a palm strike. The female couldn't suppress a cynical smile, watching him block her blade barehanded. Did he truly believe he could face her so recklessly?

Despite the tyrannical aura surrounding Qin Wentian, his confidence seemed borderline delusional.

In a heartbeat, Qin Wentian's palm was enshrouded in a veil of demonic qi, forming scales that blanketed his hand.

Peng…

The impact's force propelled the female backward, crashing through the air. Qin Wentian's gaze turned icy as it settled on the third prince, Ye Mo. With a mere finger flick, a streak of sword light whizzed toward him. Caught off-guard by Qin Wentian's unexpected move, Ye Mo couldn't even register the arrow from Fan Le before it pierced his skull, snuffing out his life.

Qin Wentian pivoted, his eyes now fixed on Ouyang Ting and her companions. Each of his steps sent tremors through the ground, demonic qi billowing into the sky. His gaze held a promise of death. Ouyang Ting felt the intensity of his stare, an involuntary shiver coursing through her spine.

"Your strength is commendable," the young man by Ouyang Ting's side stepped forward. Cultivating at the seventh level of Yuanfu, his eyes bore contemptuous scorn as they rested upon Qin Wentian. It was akin to his gaze falling upon an insect.

"However, this charade ends now," he stated softly. As his voice faded, the guards surged toward Qin Wentian's group.

"Bzzz." A pair of Garuda Wings unfurled from behind Qin Wentian. His form vanished, replaced by a blur that shot like lightning toward Ouyang Ting.

The young man's laughter dripped with cold amusement as he interposed himself between Ouyang Ting and Qin Wentian, determined to thwart his advance. Astral Souls churned, conjuring a swirling black vortex in his hands.

"Perish."

As Qin Wentian charged, the young man sneered, conjuring a black palm imprint that radiated an aura of annihilation. The malevolent energy lacerated the air, hurtling toward Qin Wentian.

Within Qin Wentian, his blood surged, a crimson light enveloping his palms. The ancient demon within him seemed to stir from its slumber. Without hesitation, he thrust his palm, summoning an echoing dragon's roar. The palm imprinted on the void—a manifestation of his innate technique, the Dragon Palm Imprint. As he unleashed the strike, his demonic scales turned draconic, covering his arm. The strike combined his Gazing-Dragon Mountain Rampart insight and Divine Energy.

On the sidelines, the two Ouyang Clan women exchanged cold smiles. The black palm strike, known as the Heart Destruction Palm, was lethal enough to claim Qin Wentian's life.

Upon collision, the dragon imprint momentarily flickered as it encountered the opponent's annihilative energy. Yet, its resilience remained steadfast, overwhelming the Heart Destruction Palm imprint and forging ahead. The dragon's might persisted, smashing through the young man's defenses. In a panicked response, the young man converged his palms defensively, striving to deflect the blow. With a resounding boom, his body was hurled through the air, a mere puppet in the face of the strike's devastation.

The explosive potency of Qin Wentian's attack was awe-inspiring. Its power transcended the limits of a fifth-level Yuanfu cultivator, rivalling that of a desolate beast. Even a seventh-level Yuanfu expert would struggle to endure such a strike.

"Shit." Consternation painted the guards' faces, mirrored by the dumbfounded expressions worn by the two Ouyang Clan young ladies.

Coldness descended upon Ouyang Ting, who retreated precipitously. Yet, Qin Wentian's frigid eyes bore into her very soul. A golden beam emanated from his brow, blinding her. Blinking, she beheld his form growing exponentially larger as he bore down upon her.

"BOOM!" Qin Wentian's hands clamped around Ouyang Ting's throat, hoisting her into the air. Each squeeze brought her closer to the precipice of death. Gasping for breath, Ouyang Ting's pallor drained, dread creeping in as life ebbed away.

"STOP!" Indignation resounded among the bystanders. An assembly of experts permitted a fifth-level Yuanfu cultivator to apprehend Ouyang Ting—an act deemed unforgivable.

No one could fathom that Qin Wentian would so audaciously transgress within the Ouyang Aristocrat Clan. Moreover, his explosive prowess exceeded expectations for a fifth-level Yuanfu cultivator.

Qin Wentian surveyed the crowd, his voice chill: "Summon Ouyang Kuangsheng."

"I'll go at once." A young lady vanished in a streak as she rushed off. A nagging suspicion burgeoned in her, that perhaps Qin Wentian did indeed share a connection with Ouyang Kuangsheng.

"Re...lease me." Ouyang Ting choked, clawing at Qin Wentian's grip.

His cold gaze flitted over her before he carried her like a ragdoll, striding toward Fan Le.

"If you're uncertain about apologizing, let me assist." His voice, ice, reverberated.

BOOM!

Ouyang Ting was unceremoniously driven to her knees. The impact of her kneecaps hitting the ground resonated like a thunderclap, fracturing the surface beneath her. This surreal spectacle rendered onlookers incredulous. Were they ensnared in a fantastical dream? A madman was amongst them, a foolhardy one at that.

Forcibly compelling Ouyang Ting to kneel before Fan Le sent shockwaves through the audience. The audacity to induce Ouyang Ting to kneel—to the very person she had intended to maim—was beyond belief.

The two cultivators who had ushered Qin Wentian to the Ouyang Aristocrat Clan wore expressions of desolation. They would inevitably shoulder the blame for whatever fate befell Qin Wentian.

"Do you even comprehend your actions?" Ouyang Ting strained to twist her head, projecting hatred onto Qin Wentian with smoldering eyes.

"Miss Ouyang, if we weren't within the Ouyang Aristocrat Clan's confines, you'd be a corpse by now," Qin Wentian retorted with an icy veneer. He wasn't a brute, but he understood individuals like Ouyang Ting were impervious to reason. Power constituted the most effective method of communication with such characters.

The ruckus attracted several experts to the scene. Originally, the training ground lacked a heavy presence; no one expected such an incident to transpire within the Ouyang stronghold.

Airborne experts converged, their stares akin to honed blades directed at Qin Wentian.

"Release her," a strikingly handsome youth in white commanded.

"Young man, do you grasp the gravity of your actions?" An elderly voice echoed as an aged figure alighted at the training ground. A mere glance from the elder elicited immense pressure upon Qin Wentian.

"My friend was engaged in sparring with Ouyang Ting. Following his victory, Ouyang Ting absurdly aspired to sever his arm. I demanded an apology, only for her to threaten severance of my arms. How does Ouyang Ting perceive us—subordinates or toys, fit to be broken at whim? Senior, imagine yourself in my shoes. What would you do?" Qin Wentian met the elder's gaze, awaiting a response. The elder's irritated glance shifted to Ouyang Ting; such behavior was undeniably excessive.

A defeat remained a defeat. To mutilate an opponent over a loss was a transgression unimaginable.

"Even your lives would have been a small price to pay, let alone an arm," the white-clad youth declared coolly.

"This kneel seems inadequate," Qin Wentian mused, and with an abrupt thrust, he pressed Ouyang Ting's forehead into the earth. Instantaneously, baleful energy surged from the white-clad youth—a visible yearning to rend Qin Wentian apart.

"Should my brother's arm be severed, even ten lives wouldn't suffice for retribution," Qin Wentian maintained, his demeanor unperturbed, radiating unassailable self-assurance.

"Well-said." Another figure sliced through the air, his declaration prompting hearts to gallop. What foolhardy madman dared utter such sentiment, courting death with words?

Yet, upon identifying the speaker, a collective shock ensued. What manner of cataclysm was underway?

A youth garbed in azure materialized, his hair streaming in the wind. His chilling stare swept the crowd, including the elderly man present. "I am apprised of the situation. Ouyang Ting's temperament and her disgraceful conduct render her unfit for the Ouyang Clan. Her behavior today transgressed all decency, staining our esteemed name. I strongly advocate severing ties with her—discard this refuse."

The voice carried an air of arrogance, reverberating throughout the area, inciting trembling trepidation among spectators. This wasn't the sole madman in attendance today!