"Kill... kill him! Kill him!"
Across the entire street, countless people wielded weapons as they charged at Yang Yao.
Yet Yang Yao showed no fear. He stood like a god of slaughter guarding a pass alone against ten thousand men.
With the Pure Yang Sword in hand, he unleashed his family's Pure Yang Swordsmanship.
The longsword in his hand glowed with a faint golden-red radiance. One sword seemed to transform into a dozen, then dozens more.
Sword Light erupted amid the crowd. In an instant, he slit the throats of five or six people.
After that, Yang Yao moved like a phantom, instantly evading the attacks of more than a dozen people.
Then he killed another seven or eight.
Here, Yang Yao truly embodied the saying: Kill One in Ten Steps, Leave No Trace for a Thousand Miles.
In barely five or six minutes, the ground was already awash with blood.
The ground was littered with corpses, each one meeting a gruesome death.
Some bodies had been trampled into pulp. Flesh, filth, and blood mixed together, and the Ghost Market, once filled with cries of slaughter, had become what it was now.
The sight made everyone present tremble in fear.
For a moment, these people no longer possessed their earlier murderous ferocity.
Some of the weaker ones even began to shiver and retreat.
With every step Yang Yao took forward, the survivors would stagger a step back in terror.
Seeing this, Yang Yao kept sneering.
"Heh, what a bunch of cowards. You were scared into this state?
Only a hundred or so people have died, and you're already like this. You really make me sick!"
With that, Yang Yao flicked his longsword and charged forward again.
With the Solar True Scripture supporting him, Yang Yao did not fear the depletion