Infinite Fire Record

Chapter 23: The Dragon Image Bo Ruo Gong

Seeing the Southern Mountain at a leisurely pace.

Zhongnan Mountain, in front of the ancient tomb.

A bleak atmosphere settled over the secluded environment, filled with a faint killing intent.

Suddenly, a burst of birdsong echoed all around—shrieking in all directions, as if the creatures had encountered something terrible. On the ground, blood splattered across the flowers and grass, staining them a deep crimson. The aura of death slowly spread through the air.

With cold eyes and a sharp gaze, he curled his lips slightly in amusement as he observed the man before him.

The man’s expression twisted with fear, his mouth trembling as hesitation and the urge to flee brewed in his heart.

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An iron fan fell to the ground, embedding itself slightly into the earth.

His gaze lingered on the fan, the smirk at the corner of his mouth deepening. Then, he raised his head, his eyes locking onto Huodu.

Huodu’s heart trembled. A cold sweat formed at his temples as he forced a smile and, with a pleading tone, said, “This young master, please forgive my ignorance for not recognizing Mount Tai. I acted rashly. Please, grant me your mercy.”

In the original story, Huodu had always been a coward—timid and fearful. Whenever danger arose, his first instinct was to flee. Now, surrounded by the shattered remnants of broken silver, his situation had become even more perilous. Tiny fragments had pierced several of his men, leaving them lifeless where they stood.

Slowly, blood pooled around them, dyeing the ground red. The bizarre scene sent chills through Huodu’s body. In his desperation, he resorted to begging for his life.

Imperial Sky’s smirk remained as his cold expression betrayed no emotion. His brows relaxed slightly, as though savoring the moment.

Most people would feel some measure of unease after taking a life, but Imperial Sky appeared unaffected. Killing had long since numbed him—to the point that he almost seemed to take pleasure in it.

Such an air of indifference, such a state of mind—Huodu found it terrifying.

Imperial Sky pointed at the iron fan on the ground, a hint of curiosity lacing his tone. “This iron fan—made entirely of gold and steel—must be quite heavy. Yet, in your hands, it swings as easily as a wooden stick. That suggests you possess considerable strength. However, judging by your physique, I doubt you were born with such power. Your cultivation technique must be special.”

His words were calm, his tone light.

Huodu’s face froze, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes. Then, meeting Imperial Sky’s piercing gaze, he felt a deep-rooted fear take hold. Stammering, he hurriedly replied, “L-Little master possesses extraordinary insight! You saw through my technique with a single glance. Truly, your wisdom is unparalleled… unparalleled!”

His expression shifted to one of forced admiration, his voice dripping with flattery.

Imperial Sky’s smirk faded, his eyes sharpening as an icy chill settled over his face.

In his right hand, a few silver fragments reappeared. The Finger Snapping Avatar was ready to be unleashed.

Huodu froze, his gaze locking onto Imperial Sky’s hand. His legs trembled slightly.

Though Huodu was not weakling, his strength was not overwhelming. In the original story, his cunning allowed him to play a role in attacking the Quanzhen Sect, but in terms of raw power, even a single Quanzhen disciple could have slain him.

Now, standing before Imperial Sky—who, despite being at the early Houtian stage, could rival an intermediate Houtian—Huodu’s fear grew unbearable.

Imperial Sky’s cold gaze swept over him. The murderous glint in his eyes sent a chill down Huodu’s spine. “Recite the martial arts you have learned,” he ordered, “and do not dare to conceal anything. If you do, you will die.”

As his words fell, the silver fragments in his hand shot forward.

The broken silver transformed into a razor-sharp blade, swift and unstoppable.

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A splash of bright red burst forth, blooming like a flower in the air.

The man standing beside Huodu let out a strangled gasp. A small hole appeared in the center of his forehead, widening slightly before his body collapsed to the ground.

Huodu swallowed hard, his heart pounding wildly.

His face paled as he felt warm blood splatter onto his cheek. His right hand trembled as he fumbled inside his robe, pulling out a tattered sheepskin scroll.

Eyes filled with terror, he held it out with both hands. “L-Little master…! This is the technique I practice! Please, take a look!” His voice shook with desperation.

Imperial Sky took the scroll. The five golden characters on its surface gleamed under the dim light—

Dragon Elephant Bo Ruo Gong.

A faint smile crossed Imperial Sky’s lips as he waved his hand dismissively. “Get lost.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Huodu took off like a frightened beast, scrambling down the mountain in sheer panic.

The remaining dozen or so men exchanged fearful glances, their bodies trembling as the wind whistled through the blood-soaked clearing.

Their strength was pitifully low. If Huodu, a mere first-class martial artist, had been leading them, then they were barely second-rate at best.

Imperial Sky’s brows furrowed slightly. His voice carried an air of disdain. “So many of you… what an eyesore. I prefer solitude. You have disturbed it, and for that, you deserve to die.”

A handful of broken silver appeared in his palm.

With a flick of his wrist, the shards scattered like a shower of petals.

The Finger Snapping Avatar was swift and deadly. While this attack lacked the focused power of a single strike, the sheer number of projectiles compensated for it.

But before the silver fully dispersed, Imperial Sky raised his right hand once more.

Suddenly, a wave of scorching heat surged forth.

A crimson gust swept through the air, carrying with it an overwhelming force.

The fiery wind accelerated the flying shards, their speed increasing drastically. Though not as fast as the initial Finger Snapping Avatar strike, they remained lethal.

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A sharp, slicing sound filled the air. Silk… Silk…!

Poof! Poof!

One by one, bodies fell—lifeless.

A hundred had already perished in the earlier conflict between Huodu and Midheaven. Now, the remaining few met their gruesome fate in an instant.

The air was thick with blood, the crimson mist swirling ominously.

The last dozen survivors collapsed to their knees, voices quivering in desperate pleas.

“Little master! Spare us! Spare us!”

“I have an elderly mother and a young child! Please, mercy!”

“Little master…!”

Imperial Sky’s brow furrowed. A faint look of disgust crossed his features. “Red is a beautiful color,” he murmured, “but human filth sullies it.” He glanced at the trembling men. “Clean this up. If you fail, you will join them.”

With a cold snort, he turned and walked toward the entrance of the deep cave.