The Supreme Asura

Chapter 14: A Sudden Assassination

"Do you think Mu Feng stands a chance of winning in a year?"

"Impossible. He's lost all his cultivation, and both his Yuan meridians and Zifu are shattered. Meanwhile, Shangguan Qianzhi is already at Tongmai Ninth Layer, nearly stepping into the Zifu realm as a true martial cultivator. A year at the Royal Academy will make the gap between them insurmountable."

"Exactly. Haha, let's just wait for the spectacle a year from now—Mu Feng kneeling and apologizing will be hilarious!"

Whispers and laughter spread through the crowd as people shared their thoughts.

An hour later, the recruitment event ended. Out of thousands of hopeful candidates, only about two hundred were admitted to the Royal Academy, highlighting the grueling competition.

Those accepted basked in admiration from peers and elders alike. Mu Feng, standing amidst the dispersing crowd, cast a glance at the high platform where he had just faced humiliation. His eyes brimmed with unwillingness.

By all rights, he should have been the brightest star in this year's recruitment, the most celebrated talent. But fate had other plans.

Even so, Mu Feng felt no regret. He had chosen to stand by his father during the latter's final battle, fighting without fear or dishonor. That, to him, was worth everything.

The younger members of the Mu family cast complex looks his way. Some seemed regretful, perhaps moved by Mu Kuang's earlier defense of him, and refrained from further ridicule.

"Brother Feng, don't mind what they say. I refuse to believe there's no way to heal your Yuan meridians," Mu Kuang said, attempting to comfort him.

"Haha, don't worry. Your brother isn't one to stay down easily," Mu Feng replied, his gaze cold as it locked onto Zhao Heng on the platform. "One day, they'll all regret this."

"I believe in you, Brother Feng," Mu Kuang affirmed with fiery conviction.

"Good brother." Mu Feng smiled warmly before adding, "Thank you for today. But are you sure you want to give up on the Royal Academy this year?"

"Relax. I'll join in two years when you do. We're still young, after all," Mu Kuang replied casually, his words brimming with loyalty.

"Alright, then. Two years from now, we'll storm the Royal Academy together and make them eat their words. Let's head back."

As the crowd thinned, Mu Feng and Mu Kuang prepared to return to the Mu family estate. Amidst the bustling throng, a shadowy figure silently approached Mu Feng.

Mu Feng's instincts flared—his back tingled, the fine hairs on his neck rising. After cultivating the Ancient Shura Sutra, his sensitivity to murderous intent had become unparalleled.

A flash of cold light streaked toward him, fast as lightning.

"Danger!"

Mu Feng twisted his body, barely avoiding the attack. The projectile—a short, lethal dart—grazed his cheek and embedded itself in another Mu family youth ahead of him.

"Ahhh!" The youth screamed before collapsing, the dart piercing clean through his skull. Blood pooled beneath him as the life fled his body.

"Assassins!"

Screams erupted from the crowd, triggering chaos as people scattered in all directions.

More projectiles shot toward Mu Feng, whistling ominously.

"Watch out!"

Mu Feng shoved Mu Kuang aside, taking one of the darts in his shoulder. Pain seared through him, but he rolled instinctively, dodging the remaining projectiles. Grabbing the corpse of the fallen youth, he used it as a makeshift shield.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Three more darts struck the corpse, narrowly missing Mu Feng.

It was clear—these attacks were aimed solely at him.

"Assassins!" a soldier shouted, rallying the guards stationed nearby.

The square descended into pandemonium.

From the chaos, two masked figures in gray leaped toward Mu Feng, their movements as swift and predatory as leopards. They brandished razor-sharp Xiuchun Dao, their blades glinting menacingly.

The first assassin swung his blade in a deadly arc, its sharpness slicing through the air with a shrill whistle.

Mu Feng rolled to the ground, narrowly dodging. The blade struck the granite pavement, leaving a deep gash.

The second assassin followed, his blade slashing downward. Mu Feng's quick reflexes saved him as he parried with a military saber he had swiftly retrieved from his storage ring. Sparks flew as their weapons collided, the assassin's blow partially deflected.

Years of battle-hardened instincts kept Mu Feng alive, though his cultivation was gone.

The first assassin capitalized on an opening, delivering a powerful kick to Mu Feng's chest.

Thud!

The force sent him tumbling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. Struggling to regain his footing, Mu Feng prepared for the finishing strike.

"Die!"

One assassin leapt high, his blade poised to deliver a fatal blow.

"Stop!"

A thunderous roar echoed across the square as a fiery burst of energy erupted. A crimson lion-shaped force slammed into the airborne assassin.

Boom!

The assassin didn't even have time to scream before his body exploded into a gory mess of flesh and blood.

A black-robed figure descended like a hawk—Mu Feng's uncle, Mu Chen.

The remaining assassin froze in terror, turning to flee. But Mu Chen extended a single finger, releasing a precise burst of red energy that shattered the man's leg, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Protect Young Master Feng!"

Mu family guards arrived, forming a protective circle around Mu Feng.

"Brother Feng, are you okay?" Mu Kuang asked, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine," Mu Feng replied, though his expression betrayed his frustration. The attempt on his life had left him rattled.

Mu Chen strode toward the wounded assassin, his face grim. With a single, crushing stomp, he shattered the man's other leg.

Crack!

"Ahhh!" The assassin's anguished screams echoed.

"Who sent you?" Mu Chen demanded coldly. "Speak, or I'll make you wish you were dead!"

The assassin, writhing in agony, opened his mouth to answer.

Thwip!

Two more projectiles shot from the crowd.

Mu Chen's sharp reflexes caught one dart mid-air, but the other struck the assassin's head, killing him instantly.

The attempt to silence the assassin was successful.

Mu Chen's face darkened further as he scanned the chaotic crowd, but the culprits had already vanished. Moments later, the city guards finally arrived, far too late to stop the chaos.

Mu Feng clenched his fists, his heart burning with anger and frustration. "Whoever sent them won't stop," he thought grimly. "But I'll survive—and make them pay for every drop of blood spilled."