Great Li Martial God

As Holy Lords who commanded one of the Western Desert’s six great powers, the three of them were among the very top tier of martial world experts throughout the entire Western Desert, legendary figures of the senior generation whose reputations commanded universal respect.

And yet here they were, reduced to this wretched and pathetic state. If the martial world figures around them recognized who they were, they would be utterly humiliated in front of everyone present. Even after eventually recovering their martial cultivation, they would never again be able to hold their heads up in the Western Desert’s martial world, forever becoming objects of ridicule.

But their attempts to hide their faces were clearly useless against anyone paying close attention. After all, word of the battle at the Yellow Spring Market had already spread, and virtually every faction now knew about it.

As a result, not only those personally acquainted with the three Holy Lords, but even martial world figures who had simply heard the rumors could make a reasonably accurate guess at the identities of the three figures crammed together on the camel’s back, transparently trying to conceal themselves.

In an instant, whispered conversation began breaking out at intervals along both sides of the street, as onlookers who had identified the three Holy Lords’ identities quietly confirmed the news from the Yellow Spring Tribe to one another.

More than a few who knew the full story suddenly realized with a start that the so-called great demon lord who had single-handedly suppressed three Holy Lords in the Yellow Spring Market was none other than the Eighth Prince of Great Li, the man soon to take command of the Hidden Kill Pavilion as its next Pavilion Master.

...

”Blood Spring, just look at the three of you. How did you end up in this state? I won’t mince words, if it had been just you alone against that Great Li prince, losing would have been one thing, barely forgivable.”

”But from what I heard, all three of you went at him together, and he still suppressed you. That makes me genuinely wonder whether the Holy Lords of the Yellow Spring Tribe are getting more useless with each passing year, or whether you were simply all talk and no substance from the start.”

”Heh heh... Ghost Prison, no use hiding anymore. Weren’t you the one who used to boast endlessly that no one in all the world under heaven could do anything against you? So what’s with this posture now, not even daring to lift your head?”

...

Transmitted voices from various acquaintances along both sides of the street began reaching the ears of the three Holy Lords, who had their faces buried low. It was clear that these people had recognized them at a single glance.

The words were laden with mockery and contempt, every one of them gleefully rubbing salt in the wound, savoring the sight of the three in their current embarrassing state.

This left the three Holy Lords seething with shame and fury, their old faces burning red. And the further Li Musheng’s group traveled, the more people were secretly transmitting words to them.

Some were old acquaintances, some were old adversaries who had butted heads with them before, and some were people whose identities they couldn’t even place at all, still sending voice after voice of mockery their way.

With their martial cultivation gone, the three Holy Lords had no way to circulate true qi to block out incoming transmissions, and could only endure it by force.

Before long, under the relentless bombardment of transmitted voices from every direction, all three were completely overwhelmed, their heads ringing, utterly unable to bear it any longer.

The Ghost Prison Holy Lord in particular was younger than the other two and had considerably less patience for enduring humiliation. Faced with the mocking words flooding in from every direction, he finally could take no more and was the first to snap.

He wrenched his head out from where it had been buried in the camel’s shaggy fur, eyes splitting with rage, and bellowed in a low, furious voice at those around him, ”All of you, shut your mouths.”

The moment those words fell, the surrounding area went suddenly silent.

In an instant, the young girl Ah Xiu, Cang Yinyue, and the others all turned to look, and even Lianxing and the other Hidden Kill Pavilion assassins following behind lifted their gazes toward the three Holy Lords.

At the same time, the outburst from the Ghost Prison Holy Lord startled the people who had been transmitting their taunts into a moment of stunned silence, giving the three Holy Lords a brief respite from the noise in their ears.

The Rakshasa Holy Lord and the Blood Spring Holy Lord, still keeping their faces buried in the camel’s fur, exchanged a quiet, sidelong glance with each other. Neither of them had expected the Ghost Prison Holy Lord to be so brazen, openly exposing their identities in front of everyone.

Their original plan had been simple: as long as they kept their heads down and gave no response, then even if the martial world figures around them recognized who they were, it would not truly matter. Once this ordeal was over and they recovered their cultivation, they could simply deny everything, and there would be nothing these people could do about it.

For the Rakshasa Holy Lord and the Blood Spring Holy Lord, raising their heads was simply not an option right now.

And then, just as the Ghost Prison Holy Lord had finished his furious outburst at the crowd and the area had fallen quiet, he suddenly whipped his head around and fixed his gaze on Li Musheng, still seated atop his camel ahead.

After only the briefest moment of hesitation, the Ghost Prison Holy Lord spoke again, ”Your Highness, you said earlier that once we reached White Emperor City you would restore our martial cultivation. Does that promise still stand?”

At those words, Li Musheng turned his head and glanced at the Ghost Prison Holy Lord. He had naturally been aware of everyone secretly transmitting at the three Holy Lords throughout, but had simply not been bothered enough to pay it any attention.

”That’s correct. I did say that.”

Li Musheng gave the Ghost Prison Holy Lord a slight nod, then raised an eyebrow and continued, ”However, you should know that restoring your cultivation comes with a condition. You’ll need to bring the Yellow Spring Tribe’s other two Holy Lords here, so I can see your complete Yellow Spring Holy Technique for myself.”

”As long as Your Highness restores our martial cultivation, that is absolutely no problem.”

The Ghost Prison Holy Lord agreed without the slightest hesitation. After all, even if Li Musheng hadn’t raised the matter, the five Holy Lords of the Yellow Spring Tribe would never let this go and would inevitably face him again to reclaim their honor.

At those words, Li Musheng glanced at the Rakshasa Holy Lord and the Blood Spring Holy Lord, still prone on the camel’s back, then flicked a finger with casual ease.

A thread of energy settled into the Ghost Prison Holy Lord’s body, and in an instant he felt every acupoint throughout his body snap open at once. The vast and powerful martial true qi that had been suppressed and imprisoned began flowing freely again in a heartbeat, circulating without obstruction through all eight extraordinary meridians.

At the same time, the Ghost Prison Holy Lord’s aura began climbing continuously, the true qi of heaven and earth pouring into his body like a whale drinking in the ocean, his previously sealed terrifying martial cultivation recovering at a remarkable speed.

”My cultivation is back.”

The Ghost Prison Holy Lord, his appearance still disheveled and his face still coated in sand, reclaimed the formidable power that was his birthright as a Holy Lord of the Yellow Spring Tribe, and immediately leaped into the air, standing suspended above, waves of bone-chilling martial pressure radiating from his entire body. He could not hold back a burst of loud, uninhibited laughter.

As his unrestrained laughter rang out, the entire long street fell suddenly silent. Not a few of the martial world figures around them lifted their eyes skyward, and found that the air above the street had seemingly transformed into a gloomy, ghostly realm, the very void shuddering without cease.

Seeing this, the Rakshasa Holy Lord and the Blood Spring Holy Lord both showed expressions of barely contained excitement, assuming Li Musheng would now move to restore their cultivation next.

But what they clearly had not anticipated was that Li Musheng made no further move at all, and simply turned away.