Chapter 78 The Dead Need Not Know Too Much

As soon as his words fell.

With a swish, a figure shot out from within the residence at incredible speed, appearing before Ma Hongbin in the blink of an eye.

It was an elder clad in a gray robe, his martial aura overwhelming. At the sight of him, Ma Hongbin was overjoyed. “Father, save me!”

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here,” the old man comforted his son as he came to stand by his side. Without delay, he swiftly conjured a protective shield before his child.

The next second—

Bang!

A loud crack signaled the shattering of the shield. Yet that was not all—at the very instant the shield broke, both the elder and Ma Hongbin were sent hurtling into the wall behind them.

“How…how is this possible?” The old man struggled to his feet. Glancing at his son, he realized with horror that Ma Hongbin had already stopped breathing.

“No, it can’t be. Bin’er… Bin’er, wake up…” He shook his son’s lifeless body, but there was no response.

Now, he was forced to accept the bitter truth—his son was gone.

“You…you actually killed my son!” The old man slowly stood, his gaze bloodshot and ferocious as he fixed his eyes upon Su Yifan across from him.

He was Ma Baolong, former patriarch of the Ma family, a martial king of the early stage. It was because of him that the Ma family had risen to prominence in the martial world.

“If you want to blame someone, blame your Ma family for offending me,” Su Yifan said indifferently. Anyone who threatened him or his family shared the same fate—death.

“You killed my son! You will pay for it with your life!” Ma Baolong’s eyes burned with crimson rage.

In the next moment, he drew out two spirit stones from who knows where. Did he intend to…?

Su Yifan saw through his intent, but did not move to stop him. He was curious to see whether, as rumor had it, absorbing the energy in spirit stones could truly multiply a martial artist’s strength.

By now, Ma Baolong had already absorbed all the spiritual energy of the stones.

“Ahhhh!” He threw his head back and roared in fury, his aura surging to more than twice its original strength.

“So it really works,” Su Yifan murmured in surprise.

He was intrigued—who had first discovered that a martial artist could use the spiritual energy in spirit stones this way? That person was truly a genius, and surely a martial arts fanatic, for no ordinary cultivator would dare attempt such a thing.

“Boy, you must be a martial king as well?” Ma Baolong said coldly.

Su Yifan made no reply.

Ma Baolong, taking his silence as confirmation, became all the more certain. “You were able to wound me and kill my son, so you must be at the mid-stage Martial King level. Now that I too have reached mid-stage Martial King, thanks to the spirit stones—”

“So what are you trying to say?” Su Yifan interrupted with a slight curl of his lip.

Previously, this old man’s strength, in terms of a cultivator’s level, was about third or fourth layer of Qi Refinement. Now, after absorbing the spirit stones, his aura soared to the fifth or sixth layer. Though the boost would only last a short time, in a desperate situation it might allow for a fierce counterattack.

But that was against someone else. In front of Su Yifan, the result was already decided.

“Young man, you’re arrogant. Now that we are both mid-stage Martial Kings, I’ll let you witness the power of the Ma family’s Five-Dragon Whip!” With that, Ma Baolong drew a whip from his waist, about three meters long. It appeared to be crafted from the bones of some kind of serpent, segmented into nine sections, each exuding a sinister, murderous aura.

Bang!

Ma Baolong flicked the whip casually. Where it struck the ground, a black scar appeared, steam faintly rising from it.

Su Yifan let out a laugh. “So that’s all? Just a whip forged from the bones of a Fire Python.”

“You do have some knowledge, but you shouldn’t underestimate the Ma family’s Five-Dragon Whip,” Ma Baolong said sternly. He channeled energy into the whip, and in an instant, the dark weapon turned crimson.

“Take this!” he shouted.

The whip fell with a crack, aimed directly at Su Yifan’s head.

Su Yifan merely shifted his body slightly, effortlessly dodging the strike.

With a loud crack, the whip struck the ground, shattering the flagstones into fragments.

“Damn!” Ma Baolong cursed as he yanked the whip back, then lashed out several more times in succession.

But as expected, not a single strike so much as brushed Su Yifan’s sleeve.

“Is that whip of yours meant for beating women? Why is it so feeble and limp?” Su Yifan sneered.

“Young man, you forced me to this!” Ma Baolong roared, channeling yet another surge of energy into the Five-Dragon Whip.

In the next instant, an illusory Fire Python materialized around the whip.

He lashed out.

Hiss—hiss—

The fiery serpent atop the whip seemed to come alive, lunging at Su Yifan.

At this sight, Ma Baolong burst into laughter. “Hahaha… Bin’er, rest in peace. Father has avenged you.”

But before he could finish his triumphant gloating, Su Yifan’s voice rang out. “Old man, aren’t you celebrating a little too early?”

With a snap of his fingers, the charging Fire Python illusion instantly crumbled into ashes.

Seeing his ultimate attack dispelled so easily, Ma Baolong stood frozen, as if all the blood had been drained from his body.

No, impossible! How could this young man break my strike? Even a late-stage Martial King wouldn’t dare face it so easily. How did he do it?

“As I said, that whip of yours is good for nothing but showing off in front of women.” Su Yifan waved his hand lightly.

Before Ma Baolong could react, he was sent flying, crashing into the hall’s inner wall.

Despite his attempt to suppress it, blood spurted from his mouth.

He struggled to rise, but Su Yifan was already in front of him, his foot pressing firmly on Ma Baolong’s head.

“What…what level have you reached?” Ma Baolong managed to gasp.

In all his years, never had he seen anyone of Su Yifan’s age possess such overwhelming power. A mere flick of the hand, and he was utterly defeated. This was not something a Martial King could hope to achieve.

“The dead need not know too much,” Su Yifan replied.

With a sickening crunch, Ma Baolong’s head was crushed to bloody mist beneath his foot.

He gazed at the corpses of father and son, devoid of the slightest ripple of emotion. For the path of cultivation was ever thus.

After rifling through their belongings for spirit stones, Su Yifan calculated his haul—sixteen hundred spirit stones in all from the three of them.

“Not much, but even a mosquito is still meat,” he mused. He had already decided to share some of the stones with Lin Ming; that fellow possessed no spiritual root, and even with his own Body Tempering Pills as aid, it would be difficult for him to make much progress.

With that, a wisp of spiritual fire flashed from his fingertip, reducing the three bodies to ashes. Then, turning into a stream of radiant light, Su Yifan vanished into the distant sky.