Chapter 10: The Bone Transformation Sect

 It had been ten days since Zhao Heng left the sect to carry out his mission.

In the middle of the Servants’ Peak, at Liu Hong’s residence:

“It’s been ten days, and there’s still no sign of Zhao Heng, yet several of our own men have gone missing. What exactly are you all doing?”

Liu Hong scolded one of his subordinates angrily.

The subordinate, with a bitter expression, replied, “Steward Liu, it’s not that we’re not trying hard, but that bastard Zhao Heng is simply too cunning.

He accepted several tasks in different locations at once. After leaving the sect, he started wandering in circles and specifically chose dangerous and difficult paths.

To track him, we had no choice but to split up, and that’s when accidents began happening.”

Liu Hong, holding a cup of hot tea, listened to his subordinate’s explanation, becoming angrier as he heard more.

“Useless bunch!”

With a sudden exertion of force, the teacup in his hand shattered into pieces.

---

At the foot of Ox Horn Mountain, deep in the forest, Zhao Heng planted his feet firmly and delivered a punch as swift as lightning. A *Rock-Splitting Punch* landed squarely on a foxhound's waist.

The foxhound howled in pain, its spine fractured as it collapsed to the ground.

Zhao Heng stepped forward in an instant, raising his Leopard-Headed Saber and slashing downward. Blood splattered three feet high.

Satisfied, Zhao Heng stood with his blade in hand. This was the tenth foxhound he had killed.

Over the past few days, as he trained and honed his skills in real combat on Ox Horn Mountain, his movements had grown more refined, and the power of his *Rock-Splitting Punch* had increased significantly.

Although he was still far from mastering the technique, its power had far surpassed that of Deng Xing back then. At least, these foxhounds could no longer withstand his punches.

Combined with lime powder and the Leopard-Headed Saber, Zhao Heng had become invincible in the outer regions of Ox Horn Mountain.

After calculating the time, Zhao Heng decided it was time to return to the sect.

First, the herbs he had gathered and the materials from mystical beasts he had collected over the past days had already filled several large bags; he simply couldn’t carry more.

Second, Zhao Heng was running low on lime powder and corpse-dissolving powder. Without these items, he felt uneasy.

And third, he had noticed that no one had been following him over the past few days.

Liu Hong had likely guessed by now that those men had been dealt with by Zhao Heng. With Liu Hong’s cautious nature, he might take action himself if given enough time.

Although Zhao Heng was confident he could fight a Martial Artist at the eighth stage of Body Tempering and escape from a ninth-stage one, he knew he stood no chance against a Bone Forging Realm expert.

Weighing his options, Zhao Heng concluded that returning to the sect was the safest choice.

With that, Zhao Heng squatted down and began expertly harvesting materials from the carcass of his prey.

While he was engrossed in his work, a sudden, intense sense of unease gripped him. His hair stood on end as if a great danger was imminent.

Zhao Heng wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or an illusion, but he continued mechanically carving up the foxhound. At the same time, his senses heightened to their peak, alert to every sound and movement around him.

Just as he finished skinning the foxhound:

“Whoosh!”

A pitch-black needle shot out from the dense forest with a faint, nearly imperceptible sound, aiming straight for the back of Zhao Heng’s neck.

Despite the sound being barely audible, Zhao Heng sensed the disturbance.

He turned sharply, but the needle had already struck his chest.

“Ugh…!”

Zhao Heng’s body trembled as he widened his eyes in disbelief before collapsing to the ground. His body twitched a few times before becoming motionless.

About ten breaths later, a thick tree in the forest shook lightly, shedding its bark to reveal a hollow cavity.

From the hollow emerged a small, thin man dressed in black, holding a flute-like concealed weapon. The earlier needle had been launched from this device.

The man slid swiftly down the tree like a nimble monkey and approached Zhao Heng’s body.

Seeing the motionless Zhao Heng and the materials and herbs beside him, the man’s face lit up with glee.

“Heh, today’s my lucky day. Bagging such a fat sheep—our sect master will surely reward me handsomely!

Still, this guy was quite cautious to sense my weapon under such conditions. Too bad your reflexes weren’t quick enough. Rest in peace; I’ll take good care of these treasures.”

As the black-clad man reached for Zhao Heng’s belongings, a cold voice suddenly rang out.

“Thanks for the sentiment, but you can die first!”

“What!” The man froze in shock.

“Shing!”

A gleaming blade slashed toward him with blinding speed.

The supposedly dead Zhao Heng suddenly opened his eyes, glaring fiercely as he swung his saber.

The attack was swift and precise, a nearly guaranteed fatal strike.

But at the critical moment, the man twisted his body like a spring, bending at an impossible angle to narrowly avoid the blow.

Though Zhao Heng’s blade left a long gash across his chest, it didn’t take his life.

“You…you’re still alive!” The man staggered back, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Zhao Heng was equally surprised.

“You survived that?”

Failing to finish the enemy in one strike was unexpected.

“Who are you, and why did you ambush me?” Zhao Heng demanded coldly, gripping his saber tightly.

The black-clad man sneered, “I am Hua Gu Long, a disciple of the *Bone Transformation Sect*!”

“Bone Transformation Sect? Never heard of it.” Zhao Heng frowned.

The man’s face twisted with rage. “Ignorant fool! Our sect was once a prominent second-tier demonic sect. How could you not know?”

“Demonic sect!”

The term sent a chill through Zhao Heng.

In the Southern Region of the True Martial Realm, righteous and demonic sects were in constant conflict.

The righteous sects, led by the Mixed Origin Sword Sect, had formed an alliance with other major sects.

The demonic sects, led by the Heaven Fiend Sect, also had their own alliances.

Though the righteous sects held the upper hand overall, the demonic sects were known for their ruthless and unpredictable methods. Many righteous cultivators had fallen to their schemes.

The Bone Transformation Sect disciple before him, though weaker than the internal organ-forging demonic cultivator slain by Yun Qingxue earlier, was still a formidable opponent.

If not for Zhao Heng’s keen senses and the protective red undergarment he reluctantly wore, he might already be dead.

---

"Hey, kid, I’ve already introduced myself. What sect are you from? Why are you covering your face out here in the wilderness? Could it be that you're also one of my Demon Dao brethren?"

Hearing the black-clad man's words, Zhao Heng felt a slight relief in his heart.

Luckily, he had been cautious enough to wear a veil. Otherwise, if these Demon Dao scoundrels saw his real face, it would be troublesome.

His thoughts flashed, and Zhao Heng raised his voice proudly: "Hmph, what nonsense! Demon Dao? I, Liu Hong, from the Outer Disciple Peak of the Yuhua Sect, will never change my name! You’re not even worthy to hold my shoes in front of the Huagu Men!"

Upon hearing Zhao Heng's words, the black-clad man instantly flew into a rage.

"You bastard! How dare you look down on the Huagu Men? I’ll fight you to the death!"

The man suddenly charged forward, and two sharp Emei daggers slid out from his sleeves, stabbing fiercely towards Zhao Heng.

Zhao Heng’s eyes narrowed, and he gripped the Leopard Head Knife to counter.

"Clang! Clang! Clang…!"

The weapons collided, sparks flying.

As they fought head-on, Zhao Heng immediately sensed that the man’s cultivation was at the Eighth Layer of Body Refining.

Fortunately, his physical strength was much greater than that of others at the same stage, so in a direct confrontation, he wasn’t at a disadvantage.

However, the black-clad man was extremely agile, dodging and twisting like an eel, making it hard for Zhao Heng to find an opening. Instead, he was forced to constantly defend against the man’s ghostly movements and quick strikes from the daggers.

"Heh heh… Kid, with this little strength, you dare look down on my Huagu Men? You’re truly overestimating yourself," the black-clad man taunted, attacking relentlessly.

Zhao Heng, forced to retreat step by step, realized that he might be in danger of losing. Suddenly, his expression became resolute.

"You forced my hand. I have no choice but to use my strongest move—‘Three-Point Return Slash,’ a high-grade martial skill!"

With a roar, Zhao Heng swung the blade with all his might, aiming a powerful slash at his opponent.

The black-clad man, upon hearing the words "high-grade martial skill," was immediately shocked. Seeing Zhao Heng’s overwhelming momentum as he slashed down recklessly, he became even more alarmed.

Without daring to be negligent, the black-clad man used all his strength, crossing the two Emei daggers to block the falling blade.

"Clang…!"

The sound of metal against metal rang out, but the black-clad man was stunned.

Although Zhao Heng’s strike looked terrifying, it had little actual power.

While he was momentarily distracted, a fist the size of a sandbag hit his chest.

"Stone-Cracking Fist!"

"Boom…!"

The punch landed solidly on his right chest, sending the man flying backward, a mouthful of blood spattering from him.

"You… You dare deceive me!" the black-clad man exclaimed.

Zhao Heng didn’t give him a moment to recover. With a quick step forward, another punch followed.

The black-clad man’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly raised his daggers to block, but Zhao Heng let go of his knife and threw a handful of lime powder at him.

"Whoosh…!"

A cloud of lime powder hit the man’s face.

"Ahhh…!"

The black-clad man screamed in agony, his heart filled with both shock and rage. He almost couldn’t tell who the real Demon Dao person was.

As Zhao Heng’s blade wind and punch both approached, and with the black-clad man already heavily injured, he no longer dared to face the attacks.

Relying on his blurred vision, the man quickly retreated with a strange footwork, swiftly disappearing into the forest.

Even though Zhao Heng swung his knife quickly, he only managed to slice off the man’s bag, but the black-clad man escaped.

As he fled, the black-clad man’s vengeful voice echoed through the forest.

"Outer Disciple Peak, Liu Hong from Yuhua Sect, the Huagu Men will remember you. This isn’t over!"

Enjoying the story? Support me on Patreon to get early access to new chapters, exclusive content, and more! Every bit helps me keep bringing these translations to you. Join the community and become part of the journey.

https://www.patreon.com/Flokixy