Chapter 22: Another Old Climber Joins the Fray?

A figure descended from the sky like an immortal, stepping through the air to block the path before Fairy Miaoyin. The newcomer, with his white hair and youthful face, wore a long azure robe; he was none other than Sword Wuchen, the Great Elder of the Heavenly Sword Sect.

"Halt, you madman!"

With a thunderous shout, Sword Wuchen’s blade began to hum, sword energy surging as if it were on the verge of manifesting as a crushing bolt of lightning to cleave Han Yang in two. A flicker of annoyance crossed Han Yang’s eyes, though he masked it quickly, offering a mocking laugh instead.

"Oh? Where did this old geezer come from, daring to ruin my fun?"

"Fairy Miaoyin, I have come to assist you!" Sword Wuchen’s gaze was sharp, his tone laced with concern.

Though Fairy Miaoyin felt nothing but disdain for Han Yang’s behavior, the deep-seated pride in her bones made it impossible for her to accept help from another. She let out a cold harrumph and retorted, "There is no need. I do not regard a mere scoundrel as a threat!"

Han Yang chuckled inwardly; this old fellow was truly a pathetic sycophant, rushing to play the hero before he even knew the situation. Maintaining a calm exterior, he suddenly pulled Fairy Miaoyin into his embrace. Her waist was slender enough to be spanned by a single hand, and the warmth of her body filled his arms.

"Tsk, tsk. The Fairy truly has skin like snow and bones of jade; one simply cannot bear to let go."

Han Yang’s frivolous tone, paired with his brazen actions, left Fairy Miaoyin burning with shame and fury.

"Shameless wretch!"

She struggled, only to discover she was held in an iron grip by Han Yang, unable to move. She was humiliated and enraged, yet utterly helpless.

"Release her!" Seeing Fairy Miaoyin held captive, Sword Wuchen hesitated, fearing to strike lest he harm her. He could only brandish his sword and circle around Han Yang, searching for an opening.

"Old man, your sword skills are as soft as a massage. It’s barely a tickle." As Han Yang dodged the attacks, he did not forget to taunt the Fairy. "Tell me, Fairy, is this old geezer truly so incompetent? Why not just stay with me? I guarantee I’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven..."

"You..." Fairy Miaoyin was trembling with rage, unable to refute him, and could only fix him with a glare of icy, concentrated hatred.

Seeing the Fairy being humiliated, Sword Wuchen grew even more anxious, his attacks becoming increasingly fierce. Yet, the more anxious he became, the harder it was to find a breakthrough. Instead, every one of his strikes was absorbed by Han Yang’s Vajra Immovable Technique, fueling his own strength.

"Hahahaha! Old thing, are you running on empty?"

Han Yang’s laughter grew increasingly wild. He mocked Sword Wuchen’s impotence while continuing to tease Fairy Miaoyin, savoring the pleasure of a cat playing with a mouse. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened. He tore open the front of Fairy Miaoyin’s robe, revealing a vast expanse of snowy skin...

"You... how dare you!" Fairy Miaoyin gasped, overwhelmed by shame and indignation.

Seeing this, Sword Wuchen’s eyes nearly burst from their sockets. His sword let out a crisp, dragon-like cry, and a brilliant arc of sword light, as if a galaxy from the nine heavens were cascading down, surged directly toward Han Yang.

The sword light was dazzling, magnificent, and overwhelming in its momentum. Yet Han Yang showed no fear, throwing his head back in laughter: "Well struck!"

He channeled the Soul of the Taotie, absorbing the torrential sword energy entirely and turning it to his own use. Fairy Miaoyin watched in despair as Sword Wuchen’s attack failed to harm Han Yang, instead only fueling his arrogance.

Just then, a melodious sound of a zither suddenly resonated through the air—a weeping, mournful sound, yet laced with a biting murderous intent. Where the sound passed, the very space seemed to warp. Han Yang’s movements faltered, as he felt an invisible force pushing him away from Fairy Miaoyin.

A figure appeared out of thin air, standing before the Fairy. The newcomer was dressed in white, possessing the elegant air of a sage. She held an ancient zither and was an elderly woman—the Sect Master of the Heavenly Sound Sect, known as the Music Immortal.

"What madman dares to bully my disciple!"

The Music Immortal’s gaze was like lightning, her tone icy, and the zither in her hands began to pulse with a low hum. Upon seeing her, Fairy Miaoyin acted as if she had grabbed a lifeline, hurriedly hiding behind her master. She adjusted her disheveled clothes and cried out with humiliation, "Sect Master, this man has gone too far!"

The Music Immortal swept a cold glance at Han Yang. "To commit such beastly acts in broad daylight—what face do you have left to walk this earth?"

Han Yang, however, could not have cared less. He licked his lips and smiled flippantly. "Oh, another one here to die. This young lady made a wager herself; she lost, so both this old one and the young one belong to me now. What, do you supposedly righteous factions of humanity not value your word?"

The "young one" he referred to was Ye Lingyin, who had been captured earlier and was currently bound and immobilized to the side.

At these words, the Music Immortal’s face turned leaden. She snapped, "A pack of lies! What dark sorcery have you used to bewitch them?"

"Sorcery? This is called charm, get it?" Han Yang sneered dismissively. "I am a man of refined beauty and dashing spirit; they are following me of their own free will. What business is it of yours?"

The Music Immortal was trembling with rage. In all her years, she had never encountered such a thick-skinned, shameless scoundrel. She suppressed her fury and said coldly, "The Heavenly Sound Sect will surely have justice for today’s events! If you are wise, surrender now, and perhaps you may keep your life!"

"Justice? From you?" Han Yang laughed contemptuously, a bloodthirsty glint flashing in his eyes. "Old woman, I think you haven't grasped the situation yet! I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll play along with you!"

With a cold snort, Han Yang vanished in a flicker, reappearing instantly before the Music Immortal and clawing at her chest. She had been prepared; she swung her ancient zither, and an invisible sound wave transformed into a blade, striking directly at Han Yang’s face.

Han Yang did not dodge, letting the sound wave strike him head-on. With a crisp *ding*, the sound wave was actually deflected back by his Vajra Immovable Technique!

"What?!" The Music Immortal’s face drained of color. She retreated several steps, barely managing to dodge the reflected sound wave.

Han Yang licked his lips, his eyes burning with excitement. "Old hag, your sonic attacks are useless against me! Now, it’s my turn!"

Seeing the Music Immortal was no match for him, Han Yang roared with laughter and charged again. "Is this all the skill you have to show off with?"

He ceased holding back, unleashing his demonic power to its fullest. Behind him, the phantom of a colossal golden roc emerged. As the Golden-Winged Roc spread its wings, a gale roared, sand and stones flew, and the sky darkened as if the end of the world had arrived.

The Music Immortal was crushed by this immense pressure, struggling to breathe, feeling as though her internal organs were about to be pulverized. The melody from her zither became erratic and broken.

Seizing the opportunity, Han Yang threw a punch that landed squarely on the Music Immortal’s chest. The strike carried the terrifying power of the Chaotic Golden Roc, enough to split mountains and shatter rock.

*Crack!*

The sound of shattering bone was clearly audible. The Music Immortal let out a piercing scream, sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string. She spat out a mouthful of blood, staining her robes red.