Shameless Siege

Chapter 169 Shameless Siege

Hearing this, Lei Miao stared at Zhao Zhou. If an ordinary disciple had interrupted his battle with Ning Fan, Lei Miao would have undoubtedly unleashed a thunderous rage.

But Zhao Zhou was different.

Zhao Zhou was a member of the Zhao family and also a personal disciple of Yin Yang Peak. His mastery over the flying sword had reached a miraculous level.

His strength was truly outstanding.

"Zhao Zhou, what is the meaning of this?"

Lei Miao glared deeply at Zhao Zhou.

"Hmph."

Zhao Zhou sneered coldly, a barely noticeable flash of malice crossing his eyes.

His original intention had been to strike without warning, directly driving his flying sword to take Ning Fan's life. Once Ning Fan was dead, the infamous reputation of being despicable and cunning would be shared between himself and Lei Miao.

Others feared Lei Miao, but Zhao Zhou of the Zhao family did not.

Unfortunately...

Lei Miao had actually released Ning Fan at the critical moment and refused to pursue the attack, wasting a perfect opportunity.

"The Zhao family is handling matters."

"Everyone else."

"Step aside!"

Following Zhao Zhou's command, over a dozen figures slowly pushed their way out of the crowd. Every one of them wore a plum blossom emblem embroidered on their chest.

-They were Zhao family disciples.

At the forefront stood three personal disciples: Zhao Zhou, Zhao Feixing, and Zhao Chuang. All three hailed from Yin Yang Peak.

"Hiss-"

"These Zhao family members really know how to pick their moments."

"I thought a great battle was about to be ruined, but I never expected this Zhao family siege to be even more thrilling."

"Three personal disciples, plus ranked and ordinary disciples, adding up to over a dozen people."

"This lineup... aren't they overestimating Ning Fan?"

A wave of murmurs rippled through the onlookers. No one had anticipated the situation would escalate to this point.

Over a dozen against one.

Even if the individual strength of these disciples was inferior to Lei Miao's, their sheer numbers were enough to bridge the gap. These dozen-plus Zhao family disciples...

Were far more troublesome than Lei Miao.

"Zhao Zhou, Profound Extreme Realm Eighth Layer. Zhao Feixing, Profound Extreme Realm Eighth Layer. Zhao Chuang, Profound Extreme Realm Seventh Layer. Just these three together are enough to cause anyone a headache, not to mention the dozen or so mid and early-stage Profound Extreme Realm disciples backing them up."

A voice rang out, neatly summarizing Ning Fan's dire predicament.

"Heh heh."

"Ning Fan, hurry up and accept your death!!!"

Zhao Zhou spoke coldly. The next moment, he raised his right hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together to form a sword seal, and pointed at Ning Fan from afar.

"Swoosh-"

The sharp whine of tearing air erupted once more. The flying sword closed the distance in a flash, thrusting straight toward Ning Fan.

Seeing the flying sword approach, Ning Fan furrowed his brows tightly. A wave of irritation washed over him. This flying sword was incredibly difficult to deal with. Ning Fan's current methods mostly relied on close-quarters physical combat, and his physique was not yet strong enough to clash head-on with a flying sword.

Ning Fan could only twist his body sideways, dodging the blade aimed squarely at his torso.

"Swoosh-"

Having missed its mark, the flying sword carved an arc through the air and shot back into the sky, hovering like a hidden viper waiting to strike.

At the exact same moment.

"Come!"

"Die!!"

Zhao Feixing and Zhao Chuang stomped fiercely against the ground. Taking advantage of the moment Ning Fan was off balance from his dodge, they charged forward to deliver a lethal blow.

"Husband, be careful." Yun Qingyao's voice rang out. She darted forward, preparing to intercept Zhao Feixing and Zhao Chuang. However, she had barely taken a few steps before several Zhao family disciples blocked her path. Almost every martial artist who entered the Yin Yang Tower started at the mid-stage of the Profound Extreme Realm at minimum.

Tangled in combat with several Zhao disciples, she was entirely unable to break free and assist Ning Fan.

Ning Fan had to face Zhao Feixing and Zhao Chuang alone.

At this moment.

Having just dodged Zhao Zhou's flying sword, Ning Fan's footing was still unstable. Zhao Feixing and Zhao Chuang arrived at his flanks and threw devastating punches.

With no room to evade, Ning Fan could only raise his fists and meet their strikes head-on.

"Bang! Bang-"

Two muffled impacts echoed in rapid succession. Ning Fan was violently blasted backward. He staggered back over ten meters before finally stabilizing himself by dropping to one knee.

But in that very instant.

"Swoosh-"

The tearing sound returned. The flying sword hovering in the sky plummeted downward, aiming straight for Ning Fan's chest.

"Be careful, Junior Brother Ning!"

"Junior Brother Ning!!"

Several panicked shouts erupted from Li Yunqi, Lin Yu, and the others. It wasn't that Li Yunqi and Lin Yu were idly standing by, but this matter involved a direct grudge between Ning Fan and the Zhao family. If they intervened, wouldn't that give the remaining Yin Yang Peak disciples the perfect excuse to join the fray?

If this escalated into a peak-level war, Lin Yu, Li Yunqi, and the others wouldn't be helping Ning Fan-they would become a burden dragging him down.

These Zhao family disciples had to be dealt with by Ning Fan alone!!

Hearing their shouts, Ning Fan caught a glimpse of the flying sword striking from behind. Seeing the blade driving straight toward his back, he had no choice but to roll across the ground.

He barely managed to shift his vitals out of the way.

"Pfft-"

The sickening sound of a blade biting into flesh echoed outward. The flying sword pierced straight through Ning Fan's calf, leaving behind a bloody, gaping hole.

As the sword soared back into the sky, thick drops of crimson blood dripped from its edge.

"Despicable. Too despicable."

A muttered voice spoke the thoughts of everyone present. However, no one dared to say it out loud.

-The Zhao family could not be offended.

Yet, every single person watching harbored resentment toward the Zhao family's actions. As much as they had anticipated the grand battle between Lei Miao and Ning Fan, they now felt an equal amount of disgust toward the Zhao family's cowardly siege. There was not a shred of martial integrity to be found here.

They were relying entirely on sheer numbers to grind Ning Fan to death!!!

Even if the three Zhao personal disciples won.

They would be utterly despised.

"Unfortunately, a win is a win. I'm afraid Ning Fan won't be escaping this alive today."

"Sigh."

"Ning Fan's talent is peerless. To be eliminated by the filthy tactics of the Zhao family is a sheer tragedy. It truly would have been better for him to fight Lei Miao properly. Being eliminated by Lei Miao's hands would be far better than this."

"An ambush by three personal disciples... Unless a Chief Disciple intervenes, it will be impossible for him to survive."

Murmurs of pity and regret spread through the crowd. Who could have imagined that a rising star of the Yin Yang Divine Sect would meet his end in such a shameful manner?

It was truly lamentable. Truly tragic.

"Heh heh."

"Ning Fan, in this final moment, do you regret disrespecting my Zhao family!?"

A glimmer of smug triumph flashed in Zhao Zhou's eyes. The flying sword hovered quietly behind him as fresh blood dripped down its sharp edge.

"Die for me!!!"

Zhao Zhou formed a sword seal with his fingers and pointed sharply at Ning Fan. The flying sword instantly let out a piercing shriek, shooting straight toward Ning Fan's heart.

Zhao Feixing and Zhao Chuang stood fully prepared. The moment Ning Fan tried to dodge, the two of them would repeat their earlier tactic and relentlessly crush him.

However, this time, Ning Fan didn't dodge or evade the incoming sword.

As the crowd watched in confusion.

Ning Fan flipped his palm, revealing a small bronze cauldron resting in his grasp.

When the bronze cauldron appeared, everyone froze in stunned silence.

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