My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 663 - ‘A Battle for the Ages’, Angling for the Mastermind - Part 3

Chapter 663 - ‘A Battle for the Ages’, Angling for the Mastermind - Part 3

Who would’ve guessed? Guo Xi, the famed Soaring Golden Roc, was actually a mole for the empire. A deep-cover agent, planted so long ago he’d nearly reached the end of the rebel campaign without anyone suspecting a thing.

Clearly, the Ministry of Martial Arts had never planned to reveal him until Li Yuan became too much of a threat. Then, they played their hidden card.

And Guo Xi played his part flawlessly. With the bait of the Human Emperor’s secret, and the trust earned through his daughter, he’d lured Li Yuan out of the city and into a trap.

Now, Guo Xi quickly stepped aside, keeping his distance. His eyes avoided Li Yuan’s as he murmured, “Qin’er knows nothing of this. I joined the Ministry of Martial Arts before she was even born...”

But Li Yuan didn’t spare him a glance because he’d suspected something all along.

And if this was the trap...perhaps it was the very fish he’d been trying to catch.

Then a scholar stepped out from behind the Lord of Arms.

“Li Yuan is of royal blood,” he said coldly. “If you truly have ties to him, you should not aid our enemies.”

But before he could finish, the Lord of Arms raised a hand to silence him. He let out a long sigh.

“I’ve been alone for far too long,” he said. “Whether Lord Yu has any connection to that Li Yuan or not, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Then he looked straight at Li Yuan, gaze fierce and burning. “If I lose, you walk free.”

Of course...he didn’t mean it. Whether he fell in battle or not, the two hundred elite archers behind him would still fire. Together, they would send this enemy of the Great Zhou straight to the grave.

But then again, he wouldn’t lose.

He had always hoped, perhaps even prayed, that someone, someday, would defeat him in a fair, one-on-one duel.

But no one ever had.

That hope curdled into loneliness, and the loneliness turned to pain.

At times, he even found himself missing those early days, when the Wu Clan sent him to the lowest rungs of the world, stripped of name and status, hidden among the commoners.

The Lord of Arms drew his blade.

He flicked it with a snap of his fingers.

The blade sang.

He stared at it, expression tinged with melancholy, then murmured, almost to himself, “Don’t disappoint me.”

He may have been speaking to the sword—but in truth, the words were meant for the young man standing before him.

All around them, the armored soldiers remained still, watching intently.

Because this was destined to be a battle for the ages, a clash between two of the strongest fighters alive.

On one side, the Lord of Arms, long the imperial court’s hidden blade.

On the other, Lord Yu, whose meteoric rise had turned him into the rebel army’s living legend.

Even just observing a fight like this would be a rare opportunity. A glimpse of the pinnacle. The kind of duel that could unlock a warrior’s next breakthrough.

Li Yuan casually drew one of his blades.

His eyes swept the chamber. No traps, no hidden players. All quiet.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

The Lord of Arms’ eyes flared with killing intent. His figure blurred, part wind, part mist, his blade lashing forward.

When he struck, it was with perfect unity of form and force. His motion compressed into a single dazzling line of light, slicing straight toward Li Yuan.

KLANG! The sound cracked through the air.

A heartbeat later, the Lord of Arms’ weapon spiraled upward, then slammed into the stone floor with a thunk, embedding itself at a steep angle, half the blade buried in rock.

What followed was silence, an unnatural, deafening silence.

Time itself seemed to freeze. The only sound was the faint flicker of flame from the sconces on the wall.

No one had seen it clearly. No one had even imagined such a scene.

“Not bad. But do you have anything else up your sleeve? If so, best use it now. No point wasting both our time,” Li Yuan said calmly.

His eyes remained fixed on the Lord of Arms, still hoping, still searching, for the one behind the curtain.

Maybe it was this man. Maybe it was someone else, someone watching from the shadows, cloaked in silence.

The Lord of Arms, however, just stared at him, wild-eyed and spellbound.

“What martial art was that?” he asked, voice trembling with awe.

Li Yuan frowned faintly, but answered, “It’s not martial arts.”

“Not...martial arts?” the man repeated. Then, as if enlightenment had struck him, he muttered, “So...you’ve reached the realm of transformation.”

His eyes lit up with fanatical heat. “In that case, spare me, teach me!”

A nearby scholar interjected anxiously, “Sir, no! He’s the Divine Monarch of the rebel army, our sworn enemy!”

But the Lord of Arms didn’t so much as blink. He locked eyes with Li Yuan, his tone desperate and reverent.

“Lord Yu...you’re going to die here today. But before you do, pass that skill to me. Let me see the path ahead in your place. If you have a final wish, I swear I’ll fulfill it.”

He had crossed the line, no longer a soldier, but a man wholly consumed by the martial path. Yet his identity, his loyalty, still chained him to the empire.

Li Yuan looked at him, eyes dimming with disappointment.

He glanced around, already preparing to break the siege.

As for his true self, the one card he’d kept hidden...he wouldn’t reveal it yet. Not unless the real puppet master showed their hand.

And just then, from somewhere beyond the chamber, came a sound.

Plop, plop, plop... The soft, deliberate slap of footsteps.

They were growing closer. One look, and the truth became horrifyingly clear.

The two hundred elite guards, each armed with heavy crossbows and warbows, lay sprawled on the ground like scattered puppets, lifeless.

Guo Xi jerked his sword free, trying to stand firm, but his limbs had already turned to water. He barely lasted two seconds before collapsing with a grunt.

Even the Lord of Arms, who had moved swiftly to retrieve his blade, only managed a few steps before crumpling to the stone floor.

At some point, a faint, sweet fragrance had begun to seep into the air.

It was subtle, cloying. But wherever that scent reached, people dropped like wheat before the scythe.

That was everyone except for Li Yuan.

Li Yuan was celestial, a man touched by the heavens. His resistance to cold, to poison, to all worldly afflictions was unmatched. How else could he feast recklessly at the bottom of a toxic lake and walk away without a scratch?

Now, he simply watched, amused by the chaos unfolding around him.

He liked this feeling, this sensation of another mountain beyond the mountain because that meant the real player was about to appear.

The footsteps echoed behind him.

Li Yuan turned.

A Daoist priest in a deep violet robe had entered the chamber. Behind him followed a procession of blue-robed disciples, each holding porcelain jars and incense canisters, the source of the sweet scent still hanging in the air.

None of them seemed affected. Clearly, they had taken antidotes in advance.

Li Yuan fixed his gaze on the man in violet.

“Heavenly Master?” he asked.

The man gave a courteous bow.

“This Humble Daoist pays respect to Lord Yu.” Then, with a casual laugh, he added, “I had planned to come rescue you, but it seems you hardly needed my help.”

Li Yuan’s voice was calm. “Rescue me? Why?”

The Heavenly Master straightened, his tone serious. “To study the Human Emperor’s Martial Canon together.”

Li Yuan blinked, his brow tightening. A flicker of confusion, and then disappointment, a deep, visible disappointment...

“That’s it?” he asked, his voice dull.

The Heavenly Master, once the Junior Heavenly Master, now the man carrying the mantle, looked genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Because Li Yuan’s reaction was...wrong. Off.

But what unsettled the Heavenly Master more was the dynamic.

He was supposed to be the mantis catching the cicada, already in control of the situation.

And yet, the young man before him was looking at him with eyes that saw too clearly, eyes that knew.

That disappointment grew heavier by the second.

Li Yuan wasn’t just disappointed in him. He was disappointed in the entire scheme.

The true mastermind...still hadn’t shown.

The bait hadn’t worked. The line remained slack.

That meant maybe there was no fish at all.

And yet, Li Yuan exhaled softly and gave a faint smile, as if brushing dust off his sleeve.

“In that case,” he said quietly, “we have nothing more to talk about.”

Li Yuan would never ally with the Lord of Arms, nor with the twisted Heavenly Master who used kidnapped children to refine pills. Doing so would destroy the credibility he had painstakingly built, the influence he relied on to explore the secrets of this world.

He patted his waist, then slowly drew his second blade.

In a world where martial strength was weak, being able to truly wield two blades was far more fearsome than mastering one.

Li Yuan sniffed the air, sharp and metallic.

It was blood.

“Did you kill everyone outside?” he asked, eyes still fixed forward.

The Heavenly Master’s face turned to ice.

He clapped his hands once.

At that signal, the dozens of blue-robed Daoists who had followed him fanned out in formation. They moved in silent coordination, stepping and spinning, swords flashing in what seemed to mirror the constellations themselves, each motion a trap, each step a killing stroke.

These weren’t common disciples. Each one was an elite, and together, they specialized in formations designed to kill.

Li Yuan took a single step forward.

A flash of steel.

The formation shattered.

His blade rose, fell, and then rose again. Every motion took two lives.

In mere moments, the chamber was silent once more. Only one man still stood.

That was the Heavenly Master.

His mind rang with shock. He turned to look at the Lord of Arms, only to find the man watching him with mocking amusement.

The Heavenly Master let out a roar and surged forward, sword in hand. He had trained under the previous Grand Heavenly Master himself. His swordplay was no weak art.

But in a single exchange, his weapon was gone.

And Li Yuan’s blade was at his throat.

The Heavenly Master stood frozen, stunned. So many years of scheming. So many years behind the curtain. How could it end like this? Effortlessly. Simply. As if it had all been a joke.

No... He wasn’t a joke.

His fists clenched, memories flooded back, visions of the long path he had walked.

Li Yuan gazed at him with quiet calm.

“You used alchemy to provoke the Ying Clan’s cruelty,” he said. “All to plunge the world into chaos, just so you could ignite the fury of the people...and catch a glimpse of the supernatural, didn’t you?”

“You...you figured that out?” The Heavenly Master blinked. Then, suddenly, he broke into manic laughter. “So what if I did? To reopen the path for humanity, what’s a little chaos? Let the world suffer a brief pain to bring about a thousand years of glory! My master failed. But I will succeed! Lord Yu, join me! I’ll be your servant, your dog if need be! Together, we will find transcendence!”

Li Yuan let out a long, quiet sigh. “And what then, if you do?”

In that moment, it was as if he was witnessing a cycle repeat itself.

The one inside had fought so hard to escape.

And now someone outside was trying to claw their way in.

When the supernatural vanished, the world found peace.

And now someone wanted to reopen the path, in the name of saving all life.

“To seek that future path,” Li Yuan said softly, “you should not burn the entire world as kindling. All those children...all the people who died...they were innocent.”

And with that, he struck.

A single stroke, and the Heavenly Master fell. The man had been a true figure from the shadows, worthy of the name the one behind the curtain.

The Lord of Arms had been worthy too, the strongest man under heaven.

But unfortunately for them...they faced an enemy from beyond the sky.

Li Yuan didn’t spare a single survivor in the cavern except for one, Guo Xi.

Even Guo Xi himself couldn’t believe he was still alive, but he was.

Li Yuan carried him out of the tomb on his back.

Outside, the personal guards Guo Xi had brought were all dead. Only Guo Qin remained, cornered by a few remaining Daoists.

Li Yuan cut them down without breaking stride, then turned to the wide-eyed girl who could barely speak.

“Let’s go. Time to head back.”