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After speaking the last word, Lyu Qingchen started to cough heavily again.

Psyche Masters were the most mysterious group of cultivators in the commoners’ imaginations. But there is one thing that others would never know about other than the group itself; that is, the mysterious Psyche power would actually hurt the masters mentally, and even physically, while they fought against their enemies.

Looking at the piled corpses lying far away, Lyu realized that the empire had lost two precious elites and felt deeply pity, saying,

"Though we have a number of powerful elites in the Tang, few of them can reach the state of a Great Sword Master. You, who have been educated authentically, were supposed to serve your country. How could you betray your country and become a traitor?"

"Traitor? What do you mean by a traitor? Sir, you are from Haotian Taoism, you must know how they criticised the Imperial Astronomer when it was erased: ’Night covers the stars, country is in turmoil!’"

By judging bodyguards’ facial expressions, the middle-aged scholar had already confirmed that the target is not in the carriage. The dead woman was just a bait. He glanced at the broken, garbage-like, gorgeous carriage, and said disparagingly,

"I don’t care what General Xia Hou is thinking, but I know we have the same goal—kill that evil woman in your troop!"

The Imperial Astronomer event several years ago came into Lyu Qingchen’s mind. He said, after seconds of silence, shaking his head, "The basic principle of the Academy was remaining realistic and practical. I would never believe these ridiculous ideas even being from Haotian Taoism, not to mention that you would."

"I have followed the princess for over four years and never thought she would suffer all of this."

Hearing such secrets that normal people would never know, Ning Que seemed to realize the reason for the princess to insist on marrying Chanyu years before, and why the emperor would agree in the end.

Just thinking about this, he couldn’t help but turn his head to face the pretty maidservant beside him, who was looking extremely unpleasant.

Complicated moods that showed on the middle-aged scholar’s face were gradually fading away, and he stopped answering Lyu. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The leaves around him started swirling along with his breath, and his robe also started making noises.

"What else do you want to do?"

Lyu frowned looking at him and said, "You aren’t getting better even after seventy-seven breaths. Your viscera probably have been broken and the Ocean of Qi has been ruined, the same as your Natal Sword. Now you even can’t beat a normal soldier. Are you not even willing to find your inner peace before leaving this world?"

In normal people’s minds, cultivators like Sword Masters and Psyche Masters all could use the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Some foolish villagers even believed that those cultivators with the strongest powers were able to control their lives. As a result, those badly injured barbarians and bodyguards dare not let their guards down, even though the middle-aged scholar was dying.

Upon hearing Lyu Qingchen’s words, they finally believed that the Great Sword Master was dying, as their pain and tiredness started to overwhelm them.

Ning Que still remained alert, throughout the war hiding in fallen leaves just like a quail. He stared at the middle-aged scholar in a pool of blood, moving slowly with his bow and arrow in his hand, and looking for the best position to shoot.

To the Tang, no matter if officials or normal citizens, honor was way more important than their lives. To them, even their enemy deserved respect according to his status when he was fighting to the death.

Now as the respected Great Sword Master was dying, the heads of bodyguards bowed their heads to demonstrate their respects towards him, even if the Master had killed lots of their loyal underlings. That was the reason why Lyu chose to talk with the Master to clear his doubts, so that he could give his last words before the Master’s death.

Ning Que could never be regarded as a typical Tang.

He did value honor, but he had never thought of it as important as life. He didn’t believe that there’s something more valuable than life, and even if there was, it would never be an honor.

He was just a low-level soldier in a border town, knowing nothing about these powerful cultivators. This was the first time for him to see such an unbelievable battle.

However, considering that the Great Sword Master was the enemy now, he would keep alert and be ready to put him down with any methods.

Being homeless since youth, and fighting against barbarians in the frontier fortress for several years, the youngster had developed a deep-rooted awareness: The safest enemy was always the one who had already died, and only when the enemy was dead, might he take off his cap and salute with his eyes to show his respect to the enemy.

And exactly at that moment, things happened just as he expected.

With leaves swirling rapidly around the big tree, the middle-aged scholar’s bloody, wet, indigo robe was blown outward suddenly. Several streams of blood were spurting out from all his facial orifices. All of this seemed like there was a horrible invisible power rushing into his body from those swirling leaves and from all directions, driving his power out through the blood coming out of his body.

"Absorbing the universe within!"

Looking at this, Lyu made an angry face all of a sudden, shouting at the middle-aged scholar angrily, "Who uses Dark Methods in the Academy? How.... how dare you betray your mentors and faith!"

The battle went even more ferocious at the Northern Mountain Road, while you could see nothing special on this old man’s face. For the Tang, now that the battle had started off, death or failure were the most common things that could happen, with nothing to do with morality or justice. However, when he found that the middle-aged scholar ruined himself with Dark Methods, he finally couldn’t help but get angry!

"If you are on a righteous path, why be afraid of using the Dark Method?" The middle-aged scholar lifted his right arm slowly and pointed to the elder man beside the carriage and said, "Let me be lost in the Underworld for good if this is damnation."

The moment that he spoke the last word, one more stream of blood appeared suddenly at the bottom of the index finger of his right hand. The bones inside appeared, slightly, as well. With a painful moan, the finger was ripped off of his hand, and the blood flow spurted out onto Lyu’s face!

Containing the Qi of Heaven and Earth inside his body, molding his flesh and blood into flying swords, compressing energies throughout his life into one shot—those were the most typical Dark Methods!

For the group escorting the princess, Lyu was their most reliable person, especially when all of the barbarians and guards were badly wounded and dead. If he was murdered by this finger, then no one in this world could withstand the attack of the Great Sword Master.

Two grassland barbarians rushed to the middle-aged scholar, shouting. Yet, they fell down on the leaves after two steps. Their curved knives slipped out of their hands as well.

The leader of guards fell to the ground, crawling down and forward, bleeding. There was a crossbow arrow left by a sacrificed guard nearby. Although he had struggled with his full strength, he still fell far behind. Even if he got the arrow, Lyu would be too weak to be struck by the broken finger.

In the dark forest of the Northern Mountain Road, no one would expect that a Great Sword Master, who was from the Academy, would use the Dark Method. No one was prepared for this and could do nothing but watch him win the fight and see people die.

However, Ning Que was well prepared.

He had prepared for this for a quite long time.

When that middle-aged scholar in the indigo robe sighed with emotion, he was not touched at all. In fact, he was carefully watching out for the party’s movements as he gradually moved his body to look for a perfect spot to launch his attack.

When the middle-aged scholar started absorbing the Qi of Heaven and Earth into his body and the falling leaves were swirling in the air, he had already stood up and aimed his boxwood bow at his opponent.

Exerting force on his right arm and hand, the bowstring was pulled out like a full moon, and the enduring string stored tremendous force and continued buzzing. The arrow on the string was shaking slightly and quickly turned calm, like a snake ready to jump out.

When the broken finger flew towards the elder, Ning Que slightly released his index and middle finger. Then the bowstring bounced back quickly and the arrow shot out like lighting through falling leaves and went straight forward into his chest.

"Weng, weng, weng!"

The bowstring vibrated violently. The black arrow flew like lighting and pierced through the falling leaves, tearing the night. Just before the Great Sword Master’s broken finger hit Lyu with the Dark Method, it had shot into the scholar’s chest!

The bodies of cultivators weren’t stronger than those of normal people. Especially Masters of Sword, Psyche, and Fu, due to meditation for years, they had become weaker and needed to pay closer attention to the environment around them, vigilant of attacks. In addition to the loyal guards defending nearby, they would wear light armor inside their robes in case of assassins’ attacking.

With clear determination, at the last moment of his life, this great master did not hesitate to kill the strongest Psyche Master with the Dark Method. So he did nothing when he found that someone was attacking covertly.

There was only a clear lake, which was formed by the Qi of Heaven and Earth, left in his psyche. The broken finger was just like a curved black string. He struggled to crawl forward and had to concentrate all of his spiritual force to strike the elder. He would never allow himself to be interrupted by anyone or anything, not even the cold arrows.

Besides, there was a nice light protective armor beneath his indigo robe. He believed that the arrow which flew from nowhere wouldn’t kill him at such a long distance.

"Pu!" With a muffled sound, an arrow, which was much quicker than normal arrows, hit his chest with its head swirling rapidly. The sharp arrow tore the robe apart into pieces and squeezed between the tiny openings of the light armor.

The arrow was in his flesh and blood started to appear.

The middle-aged scholar still seemed like he didn’t care. He didn’t even lower his head to look at it, and the bloody drops on his face came together to form a stream.

It was painful with an arrowhead in his flesh, but it didn’t matter as he wouldn’t die from this.

But Ning Que shot more than one arrow.