Eternal life begins with saving my clan

The following day, the Celestial Heavenly Store made an announcement:

They had agreed to meet with the imperial army for a discussion.

Instantly, the Soaring Cloud Region erupted in an uproar. Many people were deeply worried.

They knew the arrival of the imperial army boded ill for the region.

More so, the luxury of using the Spirit Comms might be compromised. The people had begun to trust and depend on the store.

Thus, their concern was understandable.

While some worried about the safety of the store, others gloated over its perceived misfortune.

The day before the arranged meeting, in a secret location,

Patriarch Wei met with an old man whose sharp eyes resembled those of an eagle.

"Are you sure everything is going according to plan?" the Bai Patriarch asked in a low, grave voice.

"Trust me. I've arranged everything," the Wei Patriarch replied confidently, then added, "Don't forget your promise."

"I won't, as long as you complete the deal," the Bai Patriarch scoffed, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes before vanishing as if it had never been there.

Unfortunately for Patriarch Wei, he didn't notice. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been smiling.

After confirming the plan was still in motion, Patriarch Bai left the secret location, disguised and accompanied by his men.

Ten minutes later, Patriarch Wei also left the hideout as if nothing had happened.

On his way back to the Celestial Heavenly Store, he received a notification on his Spirit Comms.

Still smiling, he checked the message, but his expression froze.

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For a moment, he stood motionless, blinking twice before shouting,

"How could this be?!"

His smile vanished, replaced by dread. He pulled at his beard in exasperation.

How could the store do this? Why? Confusion and panic overtook him.

His chest heaved as his breathing grew erratic. I must speak with the Young Master.

With that thought, he raced toward the Celestial Heavenly Store Headquarters.

While most people were unaware the store had a headquarters, as an official, he knew.

Upon arriving, he barged in, his face filled with panic.

"Please inform the Young Master that I need to speak with him. It's urgent," he said to the female attendant behind the counter.

"Elder Wei, the Young Master is cultivating and cannot meet anyone. Please let me know if there's something else I can assist you with," the attendant responded respectfully.

Patriarch Wei, however, paid no heed. His heart pounded violently against his chest.

Does the Young Master know what I'm planning? Confusion and doubt swirled in his mind.

Impossible. I was discreet about everything. He shook his head firmly.

I must act quickly. With that thought, he rushed out of the store.

Inside a mansion, a middle-aged man sat under a tree, cultivating. A deep, resonant sound emanated from his body, like a raging sandstorm.

Suddenly, a surge of power erupted from him, causing the tree to tremble slightly.

"This is incredible!" he exclaimed, opening his eyes.

However, his gaze was met with five masked men standing before him.

Each radiated the aura of an Expert Martial Artist—a formidable group not easily assembled by an ordinary clan.

Confusion filled his mind. Who would want me dead?

Despite his uncertainty, he rose calmly and began walking toward them.

After just five steps, the five men charged at him, weapons unsheathed.

"Tyrant Fist!"

He assumed a horse stance and delivered a powerful punch.

The air vibrated under the force of the blow, producing a popping sound. It was fast and precise, leaving the leading attacker no chance to react.

Bang!

Crack!

The sound of shattering bones echoed as the attacker was sent flying, blood spraying from his mouth.

The man had no time to consider his fallen opponent as four more deadly strikes closed in on him.

He managed to evade two sword strikes and countered the other two with punches.

The two attackers who received his blows stumbled backward, shock evident beneath their masks.

We're Expert Martial Artists, yet we couldn't withstand a single punch from this man!

The middle-aged man didn't care what they were thinking. He shifted his stance and unleashed three powerful punches using the Mountain Destroyer Fist technique.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three masked men were sent flying, crashing into the distance. Their fates were uncertain.

The last man, now trembling with fear, stared at the seemingly ordinary middle-aged man as if he were the embodiment of a devil.

Without hesitation, he attempted to flee, but escape was impossible.

Bang!

A punch struck him in the back, sending him flying. He crashed to the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

His internal organs were pulverized. The man grabbed him by the neck and tore off his mask.

Beneath it was the face of a withered old man.

"Tell me, who sent you?"

"Hahaha… You and the store are finished," the old man laughed maniacally before convulsing.

He had poisoned himself.

Shaking his head, Patriarch Sun muttered disdainfully, "Fool."

He kicked the lifeless body aside and wore a worried expression.

I need to report this to the store.

But first, he needed to make sure the other four men were dead. Quickly, he found out the four other black men had died from poison.

.....

In a hidden location, a young girl entered a lavish office and served tea to a woman seated behind a desk.

"Madam, you've been working too hard. You need to rest for your health," the girl said with an innocent smile.

Looking up from the pile of reports, the middle-aged woman gave the girl an appreciative glance.

"You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself," she replied, reaching for the tea. "Besides, don't I have you?"

However, as her hand touched the teacup, her brows furrowed, and she paused.

"Madam, what's wrong? Are you alright?" the girl asked, her voice filled with concern.

The woman didn't respond immediately. Instead, she looked at the smiling girl and sighed.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, disappointment evident in her tone.