Chapter 115: I’m Just a Frail Scholar

The sky grew dark and heavy as the silhouette of a young man slowly appeared—that man was none other than Lu Liang.

He took a single step forward, his supposedly frail frame now standing tall above the twenty-thousand-strong Demon Race army.

Lu Liang’s face didn’t reveal much, letting the wind tousle his hair. He glanced down at the crowd below, then a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

Lu Liang squinted and smiled. “You’ve all come from so far. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer, so why not let me see you off on your journey?”

The demon soldiers, still feeling smug over breaking through the city gates, froze at Lu Liang’s words. Their smiles turned stiff as they stared upward at him in perfect unison.

Kasao’s fury boiled over. He stomped forward, squaring off against Lu Liang. “Where’d this little brat come from? Haven’t even weaned yet, huh? Name yourself! I don’t kill no-names!”

Lu Liang’s squint deepened and his smile remained unfazed. “I am but a frail scholar. As for my name, it’s not worth mentioning, so I’ll keep it to myself. As for you, get ready for the next life.”

Kasao erupted, nearly foaming at the mouth. “You cocky brat! Just wait, I’ll dig out those eyes of yours and see if you’re blind or just stupid!”

With both axes in hand, Kasao soared into the air, ready to bring Lu Liang down with a single mighty blow.

“No need for more words. Give it your best shot.”

Lu Liang’s sentence had barely ended when his silhouette flickered. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right before Kasao, calmly striking him with a single palm.

“What? How are you this fast!”

Caught off guard, Kasao couldn’t react in time. He took the strike head-on, his body spinning out of control like a bird with broken wings and crashing straight into the ground.

The impact was so intense Kasao hit like a meteor, smashing several demon soldiers beneath him.

They died instantly, leaving a deep crater in the earth.

Kasao stared at Lu Liang in terror. “You brat, what the hell are you?”

Turning his back, Lu Liang sighed. “I told you, I’m just a frail scholar, nothing worth mentioning. Guess I won by luck.”

Kasao howled with rage. “Frail scholar, my ass! You’ve really pissed me off now! I’ll offer your head as a sacrifice!”

“Try this on for size! Demon King’s Heart-Piercing Thrust!” Bulging veins stood out on Kasao’s forehead as he gripped his long spear and lunged upward.

The pitch-black spear in his hand let out a thunderous roar, like a black dragon tearing through the air.

“Interesting move. I’m a little excited to see what you’ve got.”

With tens of thousands of eyes fixed on him, Lu Liang moved like a phantom. With just two fingers, he effortlessly stopped Kasao’s attack.

Kasao’s confident smile froze. He suddenly realized that his spear wouldn’t budge, clamped tight in Lu Liang’s grasp.

In a panic, Kasao cursed. “Let go of my spear if you’ve got the guts!”

“Kasao, we’ll help you!” Moran and Muyan, sensing something was off, shouted and prepared to join the fight.

“Such a proper sneak attack—unfair play, isn’t it? Guess I’ll join in then!”

Lu Buwei stepped up from the sidelines, blocking their way before they could process what was happening.

In an instant, Lu Buwei conjured two giant hands that clamped them tightly in place, leaving them completely immobilized.

Moran glared at Lu Buwei’s infuriating face. “You damn old fart! Not you again! We haven’t even settled things with you and you just served yourself up!”

“Lu Buwei! It’s time you paid for last time’s humiliation!” Muyan roared, bursting the giant hand restraining him.

“Demon God’s Edge: Final Truth!” Muyan declared.

“Measuring Tape Blade: Thousandfold Sweep!” shouted Moran.

Moran tore free, and the two exchanged glances before unleashing their strongest moves.

A colossal demon apparition filled the sky, gripping a gargantuan sword. Thousands of measuring tape blades shot toward Lu Buwei in a flash of emerald green.

Lu Liang spun around in alarm. “No, Teacher, it’s dangerous—get back!”

Lu Buwei scoffed. “Bunch of chickens and dogs, nothing to fear! When your path’s blocked, punch your way through! Furious Arhat Thousand Fists!”

A menacing Arhat loomed behind Lu Buwei, then launched a storm of tens of thousands of fist winds.

Moran and Muyan’s all-out attacks crumbled like jokes; the towering statue, the blades and sword lights, all as flimsy as paper.

Before the onslaught of fists, everything shattered almost instantly. The two were swept up by the shockwaves and slammed into the ground.

To their shock, they realized their cultivation had dropped a whole major realm from that single attack!

Moran spun, roaring, “Lu Buwei, what did you do to us? Why did our cultivation drop again?”

“You old bastard, don’t tell me you can pull the same trick twice! Just kill me if you must!”

Muyan refused to back down. Eyes red, twin blades flashing, he lunged at Lu Buwei as Moran stared in disbelief.

“Enough noise.” Lu Buwei barely flinched as he casually landed a palm strike.

That sudden blow crashed into Muyan’s chest. He spat blood and fell to the bottom of a deep pit, his eyes wide with shock.

His hand trembled as he raised it and realized his cultivation had dropped yet again—a blow like a bolt from the blue that left him stunned.

Humbled again and again by the same man, the shame burned hotter than death.

Unable to stand it, Muyan leaped from the pit, roaring, “You rotten old bastard! What the hell are you up to? Why does my cultivation keep falling as we fight?”

“Oh that? My fists are pretty effective against your Demon Race. Maybe even your natural nemesis. So, how’s it feel to have your cultivation cut down?” Lu Buwei replied, rubbing his knuckles.

As a top expert of the Demon Race, Muyan could barely stomach this constant humiliation—he’d rather die than endure more of it.

“I’ll kill you myself, you old bastard!” As his voice fell, Muyan pounced again.

Moran hurriedly pulled him back, face grim. “Don’t! We can’t beat him. Let’s just take down that kid together. We’ll gang up three on one!”

Muyan snapped back to his senses. It made perfect sense. He pointed at Lu Liang and barked, “Demon warriors, attack! Kill that boy!”

All two hundred thousand demon soldiers unleashed their strongest moves, filling the sky with a crushing pressure.

The heavens trembled, the earth and sky went black with their onslaught.

Lu Liang shook his head with a chuckle. “Come on, I’m just a frail scholar! Not worth kicking up such a fuss.”

“But if you insist on picking a fight—well, even a scholar can kill!”

Lu Liang flashed a chilling smile. Suddenly, a terrifying sword aura at the ninth level of the Sword Emperor Realm erupted from him.

No one was more shaken than Kasao. He finally realized—Lu Liang was matching him blow for blow without even using cultivation. How humiliating was that?

Kasao couldn’t take it anymore. He roared, “Die, brat! Shaking Heaven Fist!”

Kasao tossed aside his spear and charged, fist whistling through the air.

His strike shot straight for Lu Liang’s forehead, stopping just a hair’s breadth away.

Kasao’s face went slack with shock.

He never imagined his best move would be caught by Lu Liang’s bare hand—effortlessly calm, as if nothing happened.

“Die, die, die!” Having lost all composure, Kasao kept swinging wildly.

Lu Liang sidled up close, whispering in Kasao’s ear, “Don’t look back at the explosion. It should be a beautiful firework—Buddha’s Wrath: Truth!”

“What did you say?!”

Kasao snapped his head around, just in time to see countless demon warriors charging at Lu Liang. Suddenly, each had a glowing lotus blooming before them.

In a flash, the lotuses merged with their bodies. Their faces twisted—sorrow, terror, agony, disbelief.

Everyone could sense it. The moment the lotus entered, a forbidden force crushed their power; their magic and cultivation vanished like smoke.

In that instant, two hundred thousand demon elites were reduced to helpless lambs ready for slaughter!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

One after another, enormous demon bodies burst into brilliant red lotuses, then scattered into dazzling fireworks across the sky.

They spun and danced in the air, blooming one after another.

Kasao’s eyes filled with disbelief. “Why the hell can you seal all our warriors’ powers? What are you really?”

Lu Liang smiled gently. “Told you over and over—I’m just a frail scholar, no one special. Why won’t you listen?” He sighed.

Kasao was utterly broken. Now he knew: there was no beating this man—they could only find death here.

His mind made up, he shouted at the only ones left—Moran and Muyan. “Generals! Run for it! These two are out of our league—I’ll cover your retreat!”

“No, Kasao! If we team up, we still have a chance!” Muyan reached out, struggling up.

Moran snapped out of his daze, glanced back at the squinting Lu Liang and the stone-faced Lu Buwei, suddenly gripped by terror.

“Kasao’s right. We can’t win against the two of them. Muyan, we have to go—now or never!” Moran dragged him away.

He knew deep down their proudest moves were useless against those two—and would only be crushed mercilessly.

Moran said heavily, “Kasao, your sacrifice won’t be forgotten!”

Without another word, Moran hauled the still-stunned Muyan up and took off at full speed.

Watching them flee, Lu Liang shook his head. “All guests are welcome—how can I let you leave unescorted? Let me see you off properly.”

Seeing Lu Liang about to give chase, Kasao bellowed, “You brat, you’ll have to get past me first. Even if I die here today, I’m dragging you with me!”

But Lu Liang ignored him completely, slipping past as if Kasao didn’t exist. He only cared about catching up to Moran and Muyan.

“Kid—let’s go to the underworld together!”

Left with no choice, Kasao chose self-destruction to buy time. His body ballooned as he hurled himself at Lu Liang.

“Ah, so crude. Why do people always want to drag others along to the underworld? I have business to attend to. You’ll just have to go on alone.”

With a gentle smile, Lu Liang flashed forward, raised his hand, and simply squeezed Kasao until he shrank to the size of a pebble.

A faint pop sounded in Lu Liang’s palm. Kasao died with regret, never dreaming he’d go out so humiliatingly.

Lu Liang and Lu Buwei watched as Moran and Muyan fled in disgrace, both wearing satisfied smiles.

“Teacher, are we really going to just let them go?” Lu Liang asked with a smile.

“Let them be. Not worth our trouble,” Lu Buwei replied with indifference.

Just then, a ray of sunlight pierced the overcast sky, shining down on the land as soft goose-feather snowflakes drifted onto Lu Liang’s face.

“So it’s snowing already.”

Lu Liang stretched out his hand, catching a pristine flake as it landed softly in his palm.

He slowly opened his bright eyes, wonder gleaming within as he stared at the snow.

Lu Buwei watched the falling snow and sighed. “Lu Liang, it’s time for us to go.”

Lu Liang followed at a leisurely pace. “Teacher, there’s nothing fun about the Lower Realm. Why not head above instead?”

Their figures grew smaller and smaller amid the drifting snow, until they dwindled to a single dark speck and vanished.