The old Taoist was formidable, his Internal Energy exceptionally strong.
The amount of Internal Energy isn't simply tied to the number of years spent cultivating—it’s not a straight Y=aX line, but rather a curve that rises sharply. The higher you go, the more Internal Energy you gain each year. But also, every year requires more effort, wisdom, and time—especially once you reach the Innate stage and start breaking through barriers.
Take another world for example—after reaching the Innate stage, every new level brings a much greater boost than the last. Especially when breaking through from King to Heavenly King, or from Heavenly King to Saint Origin, the leap is huge. Up till now, neither Teacher Yang nor Queen Jill knows just how deep Saint Origin-level Internal Energy actually goes. Wu Jiaoniang may be high-level enough, and if you convert her rank, she’d be there, but since she turned young again, it’s only been less than three months, and she hasn’t fully recovered her powers.
Her quality is top-notch, but her quantity has always been lacking. It’s like those legendary mages in online games—every skill is maxed out, but the total MP pool is too small, so you can’t pull off the ultimate move.
So, just how deep is a hundred and thirty years’ worth of Internal Energy? How much can you actually burn through with that? Jill Young honestly has no clue.
But today, the old Taoist from Serenity Abbey showed her firsthand.
"Storm Sleeve Strike!" The old Taoist swung his arms, his wide sleeves billowing as endless Internal Energy whipped up a fierce wind, roaring straight toward Jill Young across more than ten meters. In a flash, Jill dodged, and with a loud swoosh, the spot where she’d been standing was hit by a storm so strong it tore up two inches of ground. Countless gravel pieces shot backward like hidden weapons, packing a serious punch.
Whoosh! Jill Young instantly dashed up to the old Taoist, launching a wide, sweeping Flying Dragon Kick straight at his face.
But the old Taoist held his arms out in a relaxed circle, striking a stylish pose as he swept forward—another loud swoosh, and the fierce energy seemed to form a tornado in midair, completely enveloping Jill Young.
"You wicked brat, watch me purify you!" The words were straight out of a xianxia drama, and the old Taoist’s moves weren’t far behind. Internal Energy burst from his whole body, shooting out like it was free, pouring from every pore. The invisible force surged upward, wrapping Jill Young in a cocoon of raw power—like a turbocharged juicer and steamroller combined. Even a rhino would get squished to bits in there.
Such technique, such inner strength—I've truly never seen anything like it.
But suddenly, the old Taoist's face flashed with a sickly green, twisted in pain, and the stream of energy from his palm went haywire. In the blink of an eye—boom! The cocoon of true energy shattered, and Jill burst out, one foot blazing hot, swinging straight down at the old guy's head.
Gritting his teeth, the old Taoist drew a deep breath, roared, and whipped his sleeve with a flourish: "Die!"
His wide sleeves surged with true energy, layering and rolling like tidal waves, gathering into a deep, thunderous rumble—pretty intimidating, honestly. Foot and sleeve collided—boom! The same roof-shattering effect replayed, the ground erupting in clouds of dust and debris like it had been shelled.
Tap-tap-tap! The old Taoist leapt back, stamping deep footprints into the ground before coming to a quick stop. He flicked his sleeve, long beard fluttering, looking every bit the immortal sage. He barked, "Kid, have you witnessed my skills yet?"
As the dust settled, Jill stood about ten meters away, shaking out the foot she'd just kicked with and snorted, "You've got plenty of inner strength, I'll give you that."
The old Taoist snorted coldly, pointing his sword-fingers at Jill: "You're young, but you've already got forty years of cultivation. Your body training is outstanding, truly rare. But in front of me, you're like a firefly before the full moon. Keep acting tough and I'll squash you like a bug!"
"Is that so?" Jill replied, totally unfazed. "But I can't shake the feeling you're all bark and no bite."
The old Taoist's brow twitched, his face darkening. When the dust finally settled, Jill was standing there, not a scratch on her. Even the shoe she'd kicked out with was perfectly fine. All that mysterious inner force versus forty years of cultivation, and Jill's energy still protected her clothes.
That's honestly a bit weird.
Whoosh—Jill lowered her shaking foot, and her leg's acupoints crackled as all the weird energies were forced out. The old Taoist's face got even uglier.
"For some reason, I just get the feeling you're all show and no substance. Beats me why, but that means..." Jill squatted down, legs tensed. "Time to put it to the test!"
Boom! The ground exploded as Jill charged in, fists blazing with unstoppable momentum. The old Taoist's face twisted, and with a furious howl, he whipped his sleeves, stacking endless inner force against Jill in a rage-fueled battle.
The fire spread, racing from the study to every room. The wooden temple, soaked by rain but now burning, spewed thick black smoke as the wet timber sizzled. From afar, flames shot skyward and smoke billowed—truly a terrifying sight.
The lecherous crooks fleeing downhill glanced back, faces full of shock. With such a commotion, there was nowhere on Greenridge Mountain that couldn't see it. There aren't any martial arts sects here, but who knows how many old Taoist weirdos are hiding out. They say King Chongyang is tough, but the guy spent half his life fighting wars—he's definitely not the most diligent cultivator around. And Jade Hawk Johnson causing such a ruckus here—doesn't he worry about getting mobbed and killed by all those old monsters?
Nope, gotta run, gotta run fast!
The panicked crooks didn't notice that, in the dark mountain forest, another group was moving into position. Dressed in pitch-black armor, blending perfectly with the night, they carried blowguns, lassos, and light crossbows—fully equipped. Sprinting through rough terrain was exhausting, but these folks kept their breathing steady, no heavy panting at all. They melted into the shadows, coldly watching the scrambling crooks.
"Just a rabble," muttered Hannah Frost, the leader, watching the crooks scatter. "Running around like headless chickens, no organization at all—a total mess. Then again, we used to be like that too." She remembered the chaos of the Frost Cavern battle, when disciples rushed in all at once, not much better than these crooks. She couldn't help but blush a little.
"Well, at least it makes our job easier." Hannah pulled out a scroll with portraits hand-drawn by Jill herself—targets to capture or eliminate. These sketches were way better than the wanted posters at the county office, which could turn Zhang Mu-zhi into Zhang Ma-zi. Jill's drawings used a mugshot-style three-view and marked height and details. Even at night, in the firelight, there was no mistaking them.
"Five to a squad, catch your targets, and don’t let anyone else notice—go!" Hannah signaled like a SWAT leader, and everyone silently sprang into action. During the operation, Hannah couldn’t help but glance back at the blazing fire, worry gnawing at her. Boss, Greenridge Mountain’s no place to hang around—we gotta wrap this up and get out, fast!
At that moment, a distant crash echoed from Serenity Abbey. It was faint from so far away, but right at the source, it must’ve been deafening. At the same time, the fire at Serenity Abbey blazed higher, like someone had just stirred a pot of kindling.
Inside Serenity Abbey.
The two fighters darted and clashed, smashing through room after room. Fist and force shattered wooden walls and knocked down pillars. The temple creaked and collapsed, flames spreading wildly, and soon Serenity Abbey was engulfed in fire.
"Hah—! Boundless Sea of Clouds!" The old Taoist’s sleeves whipped around like a Peking opera dancer’s, spinning like a giant windmill. His endless inner force burst out, swirling like a typhoon’s eye, sucking up flames and hurling them at his foe. The inferno formed a dragon-shaped tornado—spectacular and terrifying. But Jill, weapon in hand, charged right through, swinging for the head.
Her weapon cut through the fire dragon like it was nothing, finally smashing into a palm strike with a thunderous bang—showers of blood everywhere.
Blood? Whose blood?
Not the old Taoist—he had so much true energy swirling around him it formed a shield, and as long as the shield held, he was untouched. And not Jill, either. Even if someone could injure her internally, making her bleed was another story. Of everyone so far, only the Black Death Emperor could break her defenses bare-handed.
If it’s not you or me, there’s only one option left—the "weapon."
"You—you villain, you monster!" The old Taoist sputtered, his face flickering green. "How dare you slaughter my disciples!"
Yep, take a look at what Jill’s swinging—the so-called "weapon" was actually a Serenity Abbey Taoist. Earlier, Jill had KO’d a bunch of them with a flurry of attacks, and while her hand was mostly healed, it wasn’t quite back to full strength—she could only muster about six or seven tenths of her power. So, waste not want not: she picked up a Taoist and started using him like a sledgehammer. Turns out, it worked pretty well.
The Taoist, already with a broken leg, was tossed around like a nunchaku, each swing accompanied by a chorus of "ha-ha, heh-heh," until his screams sounded like something straight out of hell—so bad he was nearly passing out.
"Cruel? Come on, that's a stretch. He was pretty lively when I had him. You were the one who finished him off. And take a whiff..." The Demon King leaned in, sniffed, and grinned wickedly. "Still a bit raw, smells coppery—about medium rare. Not nearly as well-done as your underground barbecue. All bark, no bite, but when it comes to being a pervert, he really commits."
Mentioning that, the old Taoist's face twisted, a sickly green haze puffing from his pores in the firelight—creepy as hell. He roared and lunged, both palms unleashing a whirlwind: "Monster, prepare to die!"
"Hahaha!" Jill tossed her makeshift weapon aside, her hands gliding and sticking in a rare display of redirecting force. Her Supreme Yang energy crackled between her fingers, clashing with the Taoist's palm wind, sizzling like meat on a hot skillet.
The Taoist's sleeves billowed, a wall of energy swirling around him. Any attack within a foot of his body got sucked in like quicksand—impossible to break through. Keeping up this barrier burned through a mind-boggling amount of power. Even the legendary Wind Supreme at his peak couldn’t pull this off. In all the classic martial arts tales, only the mythical Sweeper Monk from the Dragon Era managed something similar—and that guy was basically the strongest fighter in the whole book.
Facing such a godlike move, Jill didn’t flinch—she went on the offensive. Her palms shifted, using Tai Chi push-hands to redirect the Taoist’s force. It looked like a dance, especially with his flowing sleeves and flying beard—pretty stylish, honestly. But his face was a mess. The more energy he pumped into his hands, the more the air shimmered and twisted, yet Jill’s palms stayed unscathed, her Supreme Yang power holding steady, matching him blow for blow.
"Oh, what’s wrong? Mad because I called you a poser?" Jill twisted her arms, going for the jugular: "You haven’t even cracked the Heavenly Gate. If you’re not a fake, what are you? If a real master’s energy is steel, yours is just a pile of mud—soft, limp, and weak. And you go around showing off like a big shot? Aren’t you embarrassed?"
That’s right—the Taoist’s energy was scary in quantity, but not in quality. In this world, breaking through the 'Gate' is different from 'Innate Power' in other worlds, but the basics are the same: after the breakthrough, your energy gets a serious upgrade. Innate sword energy is razor-sharp because it’s so refined and high-level. Spraying out raw power without special tricks? Pretty much useless.
This Taoist had no special tricks—just a ridiculous, almost endless supply of energy.
"Shut up! Shut up!" The Taoist’s face contorted, the green haze thickening as energy surged into his palms. "If it weren’t for you, brat, I’d have—"
Just as his rage hit boiling point, the demon laughed and spun her palms as if rolling a giant ball. With a tug and a nudge, the Taoist’s force was swept away, slamming straight into the ground.
Boom! The earth exploded like a controlled demolition. No one expected that so much power packed together could cause such a blast. A deep crater opened up, dirt and debris shooting skyward in a mushroom cloud.
Amidst the chaos, the Taoist staggered out of the blast zone, barely keeping his footing. His energy barrier kept him spotless and looking cool, but the hit had clearly drained him. His face was now a ghastly shade of greenish-gray.
"Ugh..." The Taoist clutched his chest, nearly collapsing. The backlash of dark energy was getting hard to suppress. He gasped, muttering, "Damn it! If I had enough heads, this humiliation would've never happened..." He glared at Jill, shouting, "Is that the Vajra Palm you’re using? Who the hell are you?!"
Rustling dirt and sand, a voice piped up from the debris: "Vajra Palm? Nope. I’m just a master thief with a taste for flowers."
"Master thief?" The Taoist had braced for anything, but that answer threw him off. He snapped, "We’ve got no beef! Why mess with me? You walk your road, I walk mine—why wreck my temple and destroy a hundred years of foundation?!"
"No beef? Ha, you’re hilarious. We’ve got major beef." Thud, thud, thud—white bones dropped from the sky, mixed with dirt. Ribs, thighbones, hand bones—everything but skulls. The Taoist suddenly realized that the spot they’d hit was a mass grave for those women, which explained the loose earth and the dramatic explosion.
Amid the bone rain, the demon’s voice echoed: "See, I’m the master thief, and I’m aiming to be the world’s number one. So the whole world’s my garden. But you? You roasted, shredded, and crushed the flowers in my garden. Tell me, you still think we’ve got no beef?"
"You..." The Taoist tried to retort, but suddenly the falling dirt parted, and Jill shot through like a streak of light, fist flying straight for his chest.
"You can’t kill me! My power’s endless—I’ll crush you like an ant!" the Taoist roared, his spirit surging as time seemed to slow. Energy erupted from every pressure point, forming a thick wall around him. Sure, it was just post-Heavenly power, but enough quantity could work wonders. With this wall, most attacks bounced off, and even if they didn’t, he could at least bounce himself away. Like leaves in the wind—untouchable. It was a headache of a technique.
But in that slowed-down moment, the Taoist saw a phantom overlapping Jill’s body. Everything else blurred, but that ghostly image had eyes—cold, all-seeing, inhuman. That gaze froze him to the core, like every secret was laid bare.
His strengths, weaknesses, vulnerabilities, lifeline—everything exposed.
Blinking, he snapped out of it—no phantom, just his own imagination. But then, a burning fist smashed into his energy wall, punching right through it like it was made of soggy tofu.
"Wha—!" The Taoist gasped. That was the weakest spot in his whole shield.
How did the demon know? Was it that phantom...?
He didn’t have time to overthink it. The next instant, the demon grabbed his three-foot-long beard.
The demon grinned at him, and sweat soaked through every layer of his clothes.
"Aaaahhh!" The Taoist poured everything into his energy, desperate. His barrier clashed violently with the trapped arm, but Jill’s Supreme Yang power surged back, blasting straight at his face.
Crackling pops erupted from his face, like a string of firecrackers going off. Jill laughed, yanked his beard—and with the combined force of Dragon Elephant strength and Supreme Yang power—rip! Blood spurted, and the Taoist howled in agony.
Boom! His energy surged, finally breaking him free from the fight. He stumbled back, clutching his face and wailing. Glancing at Jill, he saw she was holding the end of his beard—with half his face still attached.
Jaw, mouth, nose, cheek, and part of his neck—the whole area a mask would cover—had been ripped off, blood dripping everywhere.
"Ahhh! You bastard! You son of a—! You dog-faced demon! Ahhh!" The Taoist lifted his head; his face now looked like a zombie movie prop.
"See? This is why people shouldn’t wear masks. Now your face actually matches your true self." With bones raining all around, the Demon King showed zero pity. She tossed the beard and face into the fire—sizzle, curl, blacken, burn, gone.
(This chapter isn’t over yet~ Please click next page for more!)
"Why—why isn’t anyone coming?!" The Taoist howled at the sky, his mouth a bloody maw, echoing through the mountains. "Dao Ancestor! Fellow cultivators! Why won’t you help me? Qingcheng Mountain, aren’t we supposed to have each other’s backs?!"
"Stop worrying about everyone else." Jill vanished from her spot and reappeared, fist cocked, aiming straight at the Taoist.
Screech—the punch bent the elastic barrier to its limit. With a snap of her wrist, a scorching blast shot out, slamming into the Taoist’s ribs. Sizzle—like barbecue—leaving a golden fist mark on his side.
If the Taoist’s energy was a pile of mud, Jill’s was a stack of wood. Neither was steel, but wood always beats mud in a fair fight.
"Aaaah!" The Taoist’s screams deepened, his face turning from green to pitch-black.
"Oh, sensitive to heat? No problem—let’s get you used to it!" Jill’s rapid-fire punches screeched against the barrier, each thud branding the Taoist with another golden fist mark. His once-elegant robes were torn to shreds. He howled and flailed, but the tide had turned, and there was no coming back.
"If only—if only—!"
"Shut it! Just die quietly!" Boom—Jill’s straight punch tore through the barrier, Supreme Yang power roaring like a dragon, slamming into the Taoist’s core.
The Taoist skidded backward, face flushed, eyes bulging, then spat out a mouthful of blood—tinged with eerie green energy, like ghost fire. Jill wrinkled her nose, instinctively avoiding it like dodging dog poop.
"You—you just wait! If I survive today, tomorrow you’re dead!" The Taoist screamed, turning to flee. His energy was thick enough that with a slap of his arms, he shot into the sky like a bird—fast as lightning.
But that’s the thing about martial artists—they always have to say something dramatic before making their exit.
Whoosh—a bone fell from the sky. Jill snatched it up, saw it was a vertebra.
"Sorry, miss—mind if I borrow your bone for a sec?" Jill channeled Supreme Yang power into the vertebra, making it glow gold-red. She eyed her target, then, Olympic-style, stepped forward, straightened her arm, twisted her waist—throw!
Zap! The bone flashed golden-red, and the Taoist, flying through the air, let out a scream and crashed down. In the firelight, Jill saw the bone had pierced his lower back—like a kebab. If he were Wind Supreme, he might’ve dodged, but this guy could only take the hit.
Jill didn’t chase him immediately. Instead, she turned and dashed into the burning wreckage.
With a kick, she sent burning beams and rubble flying, then leapt down into the underground chamber.
Ironically, the underground chamber was the safest spot in the firestorm. Jill had already moved the surviving women to a safe corner, away from the flames. First priority: check on their safety before anything else.
Five minutes later, the No One Under Heaven crew finished their tasks and rushed into Serenity Abbey.
Ten minutes later, the whole crew evacuated. In and out like the wind—almost like they were never there.
Twenty minutes after that, a simple-robed old Taoist strolled up. His steps looked slow but covered ground fast, and he arrived at Serenity Abbey in no time. The flames had reduced everything to ashes, but at the temple gate, a bold message remained.
[The killer: Master Thief Jack Eagle]
The old Taoist stared at the words for a long while, then wandered into the woods. Soon, he reached a big tree, where blood still stained the ground—the spot where the faceless Taoist fell. But there was no body. The old man shook his head and finally left, sighing, "Baicheng, Baicheng... The Dao may rise a foot, but evil always rises a yard higher..."
What’s the Dao? What’s evil? Who knows, really.
But one thing’s for sure: the martial world’s about to get wild again.
(End of chapter)