Chapter 2240: Revenge

For this wedding, welcoming the bride was naturally the top priority. Fang Long had specially dispatched masters from the Yin-Yang Sect to escort her along the way, along with guards from the Demonic Sect and the Heartless Dao, out of concern that some irrational disciples within the sect might commit extreme acts.

After all, Qiu Honglei was extremely popular within the sect, and some disciples might find it difficult to accept that she was now getting married.

However, they thought, no matter how extreme the reaction, surely no one would directly assassinate the Saintess.

When the assassin suddenly darted out from the crowd, everyone initially thought it was merely some fanatical admirer of the Saintess and intended to just give them a casual lesson.

However, the person's movement technique was too fast; they slipped through a gap before the obstructors could form an encirclement.

The Yin-Yang Sect masters among the guards finally reacted, all trying to draw their weapons to intercept.

Unfortunately, the assassin's sword was too fast; by the time the guards had their weapons halfway drawn, a red dot had already appeared on their foreheads, sword energy piercing their brains, leading to instant death.

Immediately after, the sword's momentum did not diminish, piercing directly into the palanquin, from which a woman's scream erupted.

The assassin did not hesitate for a moment; with a tip of their toes, their entire being transformed into a streak of light and vanished into the distance.

The entire process took but a blink of an eye. Mere moments before, the many spectating disciples were still grieving the Saintess's marriage; who could have known that in the next instant, the Saintess would be stabbed to death inside the palanquin!

The Shadowy Pavilion!

The same words appeared in everyone's minds.

Only the ace assassins of the Shadowy Pavilion could achieve such a precise one-hit kill and escape thousands of miles away.

Normally, with the Saintess's cultivation, facing an enemy head-on, even an ace assassin from the Shadowy Pavilion could not instantly kill her.

But today was her wedding day, and surrounded by guards, her guard was surely exceptionally relaxed.

Furthermore, with her vision obstructed by the palanquin, she simply had no time to react and was ambushed and killed by the assassin.

Many calm individuals on the scene instantly pieced together the entire event, but the majority were crying hysterically.

The Saintess was not only the goddess in the hearts of many male disciples within the sect but also a symbol of the sect, and she had died right here!

Many, frantic, rushed forward to check the situation inside the palanquin, but the guard team, burdened by their duty, dared not let them approach and instinctively stopped them. This quickly provoked public outrage, with many beginning to curse, and some even starting to fight.

Just as a chaotic brawl was about to erupt on the scene, a soft voice suddenly rang out: "Stop!"

Everyone trembled, for they were too familiar with this voice. They all turned their heads to look, only to see a captivating woman slowly walking over from not far away. Who could it be but the Saintess?

Many people were somewhat bewildered. If the Saintess was here, then who was the woman who had just died in the palanquin?

Qiu Honglei said with some sadness, "Junior Sister Pan had anticipated that someone would cause trouble at this wedding, so she suggested taking my place in the palanquin to attract attention. I was initially somewhat dismissive, but I never expected it would truly happen as she predicted. Tragically, in trying to save me, she lost her own life."

She had been secretly following nearby, but she never expected such an unexpected turn of events.

The original plan was for Pan Qiaoqiao to attend the wedding in her place, drawing out Lu Sanyuan and others. Who knew she would die here instead?

Left with no choice, she had to reveal herself and continue as the bride. Saving her master was paramount. As for the rest, she believed Ah Zu would understand, since it wasn't a real wedding ceremony anyway.

At this moment, the guards had already opened the palanquin's curtains, and as expected, sitting inside was Pan Qiaoqiao of the Demonic Sect.

The surrounding Demonic Cult members were somewhat bewildered. Hadn't Pan Qiaoqiao and the Saintess always been on bad terms? How could they be acting like sisters this time, with one even sacrificing her life for the other?

Had they been putting on an act for outsiders all these years?

But this acting was surely too good.

Although this matter was strange, no one dug deeper into it.

Most people were still relieved; after all, the Saintess was now safe and sound.

As for Pan Qiaoqiao, although she also had some admirers on ordinary days, her popularity was far less than Qiu Honglei's.

Only the guards originally responsible for the escort mission were somewhat shocked, because they also had a task to keep an eye on Qiu Honglei.

They had no idea when the other party had left!

They must have thought Pan Qiaoqiao and she had conspired from inside and out to help her escape.

However, if the Saintess had truly been killed, all of them would have faced severe consequences. Now, it seemed the outcome was good.

Soon, everyone carried Pan Qiaoqiao's body out and found another palanquin for Qiu Honglei to sit in.

The immediate priority was to safely escort the Saintess to the wedding venue. As for other matters, they would report them in detail later.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the assassin, moving like lightning, weaved through various buildings, casually tossing their hat, mask, coat, and other items into various corners along the way, soon becoming indistinguishable from other ordinary Demonic Cult disciples.

The corners of his lips curved slightly upward; he was clearly very satisfied with this assassination.

Suddenly, his body trembled, and he looked up at a man not far ahead.

Zu An was also observing him. "Brother," he said, "your sword was incredibly fast just now."

The assassin actually had a somewhat delicate appearance. His face had a paleness, as if he hadn't seen sunlight in years, but it wasn't the kind seen on dark elves; he was purely human.

After what had just happened, Zu An had also rushed to the scene upon hearing the news. Although this assassin was fast, how could he be faster than Zu An?

Originally, he had intended to secretly follow the other party, to see if he could find any clues about the Shadowy Pavilion.

The Shadowy Pavilion was truly too mysterious; even the Embroidered Uniform Guard had only fragmentary knowledge of them.

However, after following him for half a day, Zu An found that the assassin hadn't gone to any secret hideouts of the Shadowy Pavilion. Instead, he had changed his attire and disguised himself as an ordinary Demonic Cult disciple.

He didn't have that much time to waste on the other party, so he simply revealed himself.

"How long have you been following me?" the assassin asked, merely to mislead the other party. No sooner had he spoken, his body suddenly moved like lightning, appearing before Zu An in the blink of an eye. A slender sword, drawn at an unknown moment, was thrusting towards Zu An's forehead.

Just moments ago, two senior masters of the Yin-Yang Sect had their lives taken by this very sword, without even having time to draw their weapons.

However, the assassin's pupils constricted sharply, because his unfailingly effective fast sword had stopped dead, lightly gripped by two very ordinary fingers as if it were nothing.

Normally, if anyone dared to be so arrogant as to try to pinch his sword, with his sword energy, he could certainly sever their two fingers directly and then follow through by thrusting his long sword into their brain.

But now, no matter how much force he exerted, the sword in his hand could not advance even an inch.

He was greatly alarmed and decisively abandoned his sword, retreating rapidly. As an assassin, he had always scoffed at notions like 'the sword lives, the man lives; the sword perishes, the man perishes.'

As an assassin, the most important thing was to preserve one's own life; only then could one complete the mission.

Although the sword was important, compared to one's life, what did it amount to?

Perhaps it was the terrifying pressure from the person opposite him, but he had never felt himself move so fast, even half again as fast as he had been when assassinating the Saintess.

Even so, he still dared not relax even slightly. At the same time, he scattered a handful of poison powder behind him and activated all the various life-saving magical artifacts he had accumulated over the years.

If he could just get one breath's time, he could vanish into the alley ahead, then change his appearance and blend into the crowd, and the other party would never be able to find him again.

However, his body suddenly trembled, and his eyes revealed a fear he had never experienced in his life: his pressure points had been struck.

What kind of terrifying monster was this person? Why was his cultivation so formidable?

Zu An withdrew his fingers and came back to stand before him. "I just have some questions for you," he said, "no need to run so fast."

The strength the other party had just displayed was completely on par with the chief disciples from the various sects who competed in the Daoist Grand Tournament on Purple Mountain. Judging by his age, he seemed younger than many chief disciples, yet he possessed such cultivation. The Shadowy Pavilion truly was unfathomable.

Seeing the young man's terrified expression, Zu An smiled and casually sat on a nearby stone. "What's your name?" he asked.

The young man's lips were tightly sealed; he clearly did not want to speak.

"You won't even answer such a simple question?" Zu An sneered. "Do you believe I'll send you to the Yin-Yang Sect? The people there don't just like beautiful women; they're also interested in handsome young men like you."

"You!" The young man's expression changed. He wasn't afraid of torture, but the thought of that chilled him to the bone. "With your distinguished cultivation, how could you stoop to such a disgraceful act?"

"Jing Li, is it?" Zu An smiled, having said that precisely to provoke him. "Who says those with high cultivation must abide by rules?"

The young man's expression changed dramatically. "How did you know my name?" he asked.

"I always have my ways," Zu An said calmly. "Now, tell me what position you hold in the Shadowy Pavilion. With your current cultivation, you're certainly no mere grunt."

The young man's expression flickered, but he ultimately kept his mouth tightly shut.

Zu An frowned slightly. "My patience has its limits," he said. "I have another way to learn everything about you. However, that would require crippling your cultivation, and I imagine you would absolutely not want to see that."

He then activated the Gluttonous Devouring Heaven Art and slowly approached him.

Feeling the terrifying oppressive force, the young man's expression changed, clearly realizing that the other party wasn't bluffing.

He took a deep breath. "I am not from the Shadowy Pavilion," he said.

"Are you still trying to quibble at a time like this?" Zu An snorted. "Everyone can see you're from the Shadowy Pavilion."

"That's precisely the effect I wanted," Jing Li replied.

Zu An's heart stirred, and he had some guesses. "Continue," he said.

Jing Li gave him a complex look. "If I tell you, will you let me go?" he asked.

"As an assassin, you shouldn't be asking such a naive question," Zu An smiled.

Jing Li sighed. "If I were facing anyone else, I naturally wouldn't ask," he said. "However, your distinguished cultivation is the highest I have ever witnessed in my life, and I believe you are not a person who goes back on their word."

"No need to flatter me," Zu An said. "Just tell me."

Seeing that he made no promise, Jing Li actually felt a sense of relief. "Because I have a deep-seated hatred for the Shadowy Pavilion," he declared, "and I need to seek revenge against them!"