Eternal Life: Talent Grows with Age-Chapter 173 - 129: An Outlier in the Martial Dao! (Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!)

Chapter 173: Chapter 129: An Outlier in the Martial Dao! (Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!)

Meng Ping, sitting in the pavilion of the inner courtyard, was suddenly overcome by a sense of foreboding, a chilling sensation running down his spine.

Even ordinary Martial Artists would sometimes feel a premonition when danger approached—so how could he, a cultivator, not sense it?

Yet the warning came too late; just as the thought entered his mind, he heard the rush of countless objects slicing through the air all around him.

Countless crossbow arrows ripped through the lush garden foliage, the rustling sound heralding the arrival of deadly peril. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Boom!"

In Lu Chang’sheng’s line of sight, the inner courtyard pavilion was drilled through by a volley of armor-piercing arrows, its solid wooden pillars snapping instantly.

A flash of white light burst forth.

Then, all was swallowed up in a rain of crossbow bolts.

Even the pavilion’s foundation—set atop the lake—was blasted apart, arrows shooting wild, plunging into the water and erupting like live artillery shells.

The monstrous force of those heavy crossbows could truly crush mountains and shatter stone.

And, thanks to their intricate design, the power far surpassed any crossbow Lu Chang’sheng remembered from his past life.

He nocked an arrow and let loose a flurry, each bolt whistling through the air, determined not to give the enemy a breath of respite.

Even if it was just a corpse, he’d still fire one last arrow, just to be safe.

After all, the target was an Immortal—there was no such thing as too much caution.

And sure enough, Lu Chang’sheng’s fears became reality.

After a single salvo, the inner courtyard pavilion was in ruins, toppled into the lake below. But before anyone could even reload, a furious, shocked roar rang out.

The voice was thick with rage.

"You insignificant mortals! You took my cultivation technique and didn’t even feel grateful—daring to attack me? You all deserve to die!"

A figure burst out from the rubble.

Gone was the ethereal, refined air he once had; his delicately shampooed hair was now a soaking mess, plastered to his scalp by lake water and dust, his appearance disheveled and hideous.

Meng Ping’s fury went far beyond what anyone could imagine.

The crossbow bolts had nearly killed him; if not for his defensive magical artifact automatically activating just in time, he’d have been riddled with arrows, dead beyond any hope of revival.

He looked down to see the pendant on his chest completely dulled—its surface marred by a barely visible crack. Bloodlust rose inside him.

This was his most precious item—the very artifact that had allowed him to escape the disciples of the True Profound Sect. Yet now, it had nearly been ruined by a pack of mere Martial Artists.

For a cultivator, this was an utter humiliation—a wound to pride that could never be forgiven.

His Daoist robes billowed, and he moved with the wrath of a god or demon, leaping forward and crossing more than a hundred meters in an instant, landing in a manor to the southeast.

"Ka-ka~"

His thick arm clamped down on a True Qi Martial Artist who’d just reached for a fresh bolt, and with a violent motion, tore the man in half.

"Die!"

He murdered indiscriminately, consumed by rage—the low-key harvest he’d planned had evaporated; now there was only slaughter.

With a deafening crash, he hurled a heavy crossbow, smashing two shocked True Qi Martial Artist disciples into blood pudding.

The hurled crossbow didn’t stop there—it crashed through the courtyard wall behind them, sending a monstrous boom rolling outward.

Even people out on the street, several hundred meters away, heard everything clearly.

"What just happened?"

"With that kind of noise, what the hell is going on?"

······

One by one, the locals came running out to see, their faces stricken with shock at the courtyard from which the noise erupted.

"Isn’t that where Scholar Lu and the others were studying Immortal Techniques?"

A wealthy man hurried from his home, peering into the distance with a look of confusion and horror.

"Someone, go inform the Lord of the Mansion—right now," he said to a Protector Institute member beside him.

He quickly gathered his family and fled from the area.

Such a tremendous shockwave—no ordinary True Qi Martial Artist could’ve caused that. Who knew what kind of chaos raged within?

If things truly went south in there and they stayed, they’d surely be courting death.

Meng Ping was truly an Immortal. Even badly wounded, he could crush every True Qi Martial Artist in his path. In a flash, he butchered the True Qi experts in five entire manors before anyone else figured out what was happening.

One after another, people swung their bows and crossbows his way.

They had no choice; they all knew if crossbows couldn’t bring him down, their own True Qi skills would be even less effective.

Hell, even they couldn’t face a crossbow volley head-on—they could only dodge.

But now that Meng Ping realized he was surrounded by crossbow ambushes, hitting him was damn near impossible.

Every arrow whistled past him, missing by a hair—didn’t even slow him down. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head: the moment an arrow loomed, he’d already shifted out of the way.

Once this sunk in, some True Qi Martial Artists spun around and tried to escape.

"Trying to run?"

If the losses hadn’t piled so high, Meng Ping might’ve let them live a few more moments.

But now, overflowing with murderous rage, he’d made this manor his killing ground. No one would get out alive.

Suddenly, a vertical eye appeared in the center of his brow—dark and profound. In an instant, it saw through barriers and locked onto his fleeing prey.

His fingers snapped, firing a string of energy bullets straight at them, blasting through the courtyard wall and slaughtering them where they stood.

This gruesome sight was witnessed by many of the True Qi Martial Artists.

Meng Ping wanted to make an example—he made no attempt to shield what he was doing from the eyes of the enemy fighters.

That instant, everyone understood Immortal Meng’s intention. Despair crept into their hearts, but as True Qi Martial Artists, they wouldn’t just wait to die. One by one, they bounded out from the mansion, heading straight toward Lu Chang’sheng’s position.