Chapter 686 - Looking And Laughing At Heroes Was Not Common (3)(2/2)
Suddenly, there was movement in the people on the square in front of the Palace watching the execution. Shouts of surprise and pain rang out at almost the same time. The back of the crowd became very chaotic. A number of people were hurt from falling and being stepped on.
The lone rider did not reduce his speed at all. Instead, he cold-bloodedly charged toward the dense crowd of people.
Those who could dodge, dodged while those who could not were sent flying by the horse. In the autumn rain, the horse stepped on those in its path with unusual cold-bloodedness.
Amidst the terror of death, the sea of people parted to create a large opening. They squeezed desperately to the sides to open up a direct path to the small execution field in front of the Royal Palace for this rider.
The imperial soldiers closed in. Their long spears all pointed at the rider.
Fan Xian silently flew up over the forest of spears. In midair, with his sword in his hand, he sliced out like a bolt of lightning. With a number of thuds, he sliced through a few swords and sent a few internal court guards to the ground. He was already sweeping into the air above the execution field.
No matter what he did, Fan Xian’s eyes remained locked on the small wooden stage and bloody and dying old man tied to the wooden scaffolding. Fan Xian’s gaze grew increasingly cold and filled with hatred Then, he heard wind coming in from all directions.
Countless hemp-clothed shadows rose up, circling like flowers in the autumn rain and blocking off all of Fan Xian’s paths.
Fan Xian did not retreat or dodge. He took three punches to his chest. His sword pierced ruthlessly into the face of a hemp-clothed man and through his eye. Blood and eye fluid seeped out at the same time and mixed in with the rainwater.
He roared and slammed out with his left palm full of Tyrannical zhenqi. He heard the crunch of bone and the organs of the hemp-clothed man to his left overflow with blood as he fell to the ground.
With a slap, Fan Xian’s feel finally landed on the wet little stage. However, he had paid a great price. The injuries in his body exploded forth ferociously. He spat out a mouthful of blood. He paid it no attention. He just stared dazedly at the old man on the scaffolding who had suffered countless cuts and was exposed before the eyes of the people and endlessly humiliated.
With just a glance, Fan Xian knew that he had come too late. He could not make him live on. His dry lips rose slightly. He wanted to say something but could not say anything.
The autumn rain fell and swept across the bodies of the two people on the wooden stage. All around, there was a death-like silence. All of the imperial soldiers, Internal Court aces, and the powerful Ascetic Monks from the Qing Temple surrounded the wooden stage tightly. Suppressed by the valiant killing intent and desperation that Fan Xian demonstrated earlier, all of their bodies were rather rigid. No one could take a step.
Fan Xian moved forward with great difficulty. He pulled off the ropes and held Chen Pingping’s thin body in his arms. Taking off his filthy and tattered black Overwatch Council robe, he placed it over his body.
With great difficulty, Chen Pingping opened his eyes. His old, murky, and disorientated eyes flashed with a very pure light. The old man was like a child huddled in Fan Xian’s embrace. It was as if he was slightly afraid of the cold.
“I came back too late,” Fan Xian said hoarsely. He held the thin body and felt the old man’s warmth slowly seep away. His heart was filled, as never before, with a sense of failure, hopelessness, and pain.