Killing

Before the main gate.

Li Pinghu rested a hand on his saber hilt, his gaze sharp as an eagle's as he stared intently at the increasingly chaotic battle.

Shi Tie planted his massive hammer on the ground with a dull thud, his eyes blazing as though fire might burst from them.

They had both clearly seen Yun Hu's transformation.

The unrestrained, carefree spirit usually hidden in his bones had long since vanished, replaced by a swordsman's unique focus and sharpness—a pure killing intent.

This was Yun Hu's own choice, and one the three of them had discussed long ago.

Tonight, these enemies surging toward them were Yun Hu's finest whetstones.

Suddenly, two blood-soaked martial artists roared and, by sheer luck, slipped past Yun Hu's despair-inducing curtain of sword light.

Like two wounded beasts made all the more vicious by their injuries, they charged straight for the gate, madness gleaming in their eyes.

In their view, the two gatekeepers were undoubtedly the weakest link in the Yun Clan's defenses.

A frigid, disdainful curve touched Li Pinghu's lips.

He did not even draw the saber at his waist.

He merely took a steady step forward and dipped one shoulder slightly. Like a small moving mountain, he slammed fiercely into the saber-wielding martial artist charging from the left.

Bang!

A dull impact that set teeth on edge rang out.

The martial artist was like a man struck head-on by a charging wild bull. The crack of his breastbone shattering was clearly audible.

He spewed a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs, his body flying backward like a kite with its string cut. Before he even hit the ground, he was already dead.

The martial artist on the right, wielding a short halberd, was scared out of his wits at the sight, his pupils abruptly contracting.

He tried to change his move and retreat, but it was already too late.

Shi Tie's broad, fan-like hand had seized his halberd-wielding wrist like lightning.

Crack!

The crisp sound of bones breaking was especially piercing even amid the battlefield's clamor.

With a violent swing of his arm, Shi Tie hurled the martial artist's hundred-odd-pound body like a tattered sack, smashing it hard against the solid bluestone ground.

Dust flew everywhere.

The martial artist twitched a few times before falling silent forever.

All of this happened in the flash of a spark, as swift as a hare leaping and a falcon diving.

Yun Hu did not even turn around for a glance.

His sword continued to reap fresh lives with cold efficiency.

The dozen or so enemies who had been the first to break through the Mo Family's and Ning Family's disruption and charge forward without fear of death had all fallen beneath his Bloodletting Sword in just a few breaths.

The open ground before the Yun Clan residence in Evergreen Valley was now littered with corpses, strewn every which way.

Crimson blood spread like streams, staining the cold bluestone slabs a dark red that made hearts tremble.

Not the slightest emotion stirred in Yun Hu's eyes as he coldly harvested the lives of one Xiantian realm martial artist after another.

To him, this was not a life-or-death battle, but more like a simple sword practice.

Only, the targets for his practice had been replaced by living people.

More and more people fell beneath Yun Hu's sword, and the stench of blood in the air grew so thick it seemed impossible to disperse.

The Mo Family martial artists who had originally stood in front of them had long since all been killed.

Behind them, the Ning Family's people were still locked in battle with martial artists from the other families, and the fighting there was equally brutal.

Yet fewer and fewer people dared to step forward and face Yun Hu in battle.

They had been frightened out of their wits by Yun Hu's unfathomable, ruthless swordsmanship.

They were all Xiantian realm martial artists—so why could the gap between people be so vast as to inspire such despair?

They could not understand it, nor did they have time to.

They had thought that only three people guarded the Yun Clan's gate, and that they could easily rush in and seize the legendary Qi Nourishing Pill formula.

Reality, however, was cruel beyond measure.

When the first martial artist in the crowd hesitated out of fear, a whole group of people hesitated with him.

When the first person could no longer bear the invisible pressure and turned to flee, everyone remaining became a rabble.

Their goal changed at that moment.

Breaking into the Yun Clan was no longer their foremost priority. Instead, they did everything in their power to escape this field of carnage and preserve their lives.

Of the more than two hundred Xiantian martial artists from the major families, along with some who had come to fish in troubled waters, some were dead and some had fled.

The open ground before the Yun Clan residence, which had echoed with earth-shaking cries of battle not long ago, gradually held only piles of steaming corpses and weapons scattered in disarray.

Those Ning Family martial artists clad in white garments patterned with blue did not approach the Yun Clan's gate.

They did not pursue those who scattered and fled in all directions.

Instead, they silently searched the battlefield, carrying away the bodies of the Ning Family members who had fallen in battle. Then, without a sound, they withdrew into the night and swiftly left that blood-soaked place.

In the distance, within a concealed mountain hollow.

Ning Yongrui's son, Ning Shaojie, had been hiding in a dark corner the entire time, like a ghost.

He had witnessed with his own eyes how Yun Hu slaughtered Xiantian martial artists as easily as chopping melons and slicing vegetables. His heart had long since sunk to the bottom, icy cold to the bone.

An indescribable terror coiled around his heart like a venomous snake, leaving his limbs cold.

He was clearly a genuine Qi Refining Stage cultivator, while Yun Hu was merely a Xiantian realm martial artist who had yet to refine Qi!

Yet the pure killing aura radiating from the other man, along with that unfathomable swordsmanship, sent waves of palpitations through him.

Were all members of the Yun Clan such heaven-defying monsters?

This despairing thought rose uncontrollably in Ning Shaojie's mind.

Just then, an even more formidable surge of aura suddenly erupted from deep within the rear courtyard of the Yun Clan estate.

Then came a second, and a third.

Every one of those auras far surpassed the scope of Xiantian martial artists. Carrying the distinctive pressure of Qi Refining Stage cultivators, they spread in all directions like invisible tidal waves.

Those were the aftershocks of colliding spells.

There were muffled booms, piercing howls, and the shrill sound of air being torn apart.

Even with several courtyard walls between them, Ning Shaojie could clearly sense just how fierce the battle was.

In the Yun Clan's rear courtyard, the battle between Qi Refining Stage cultivators had finally begun.

Ning Shaojie's breathing involuntarily quickened.

He dearly wanted to rush in and take a look.

He wanted to see what earth-shaking methods Yun Long, the Yun Clan's patriarch and the legendary Martial Arts Grandmaster who had achieved Entering Immortality through Martial Arts, truly possessed.

He wanted to confirm with his own eyes whether this Yun Long was truly worthy of such wariness from his father, Ning Yongrui—so much so that he would rather tear apart all pretenses with the other families of Wanfang Lake than fail to befriend him.

The thought spread through his heart like wild grass growing madly.

But in the end, he forcibly suppressed the urge.

His father's instructions echoed in his ears.

"No matter how intense the battle inside the Yun Clan becomes, do not go in."

"You only need to remain outside and ensure that the Yun Clan's core members do not die."

Ning Shaojie took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

He knew his father's order had not been given without cause.

The battle inside had already surpassed a level he could interfere with.

The only thing he could do was stand guard here and wait for the outcome.

Yet the violent booms from the rear courtyard, along with the terrifying energy fluctuations constantly leaking out, still left him restless, as though claws were scratching at his heart.

He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging deep into his palms, trying to use pain to drive away the agitation and curiosity in his heart.

He pricked up his ears, carefully distinguishing every faint sound coming from the rear courtyard.

The wind, the rustle of leaves, and the increasingly distinct, increasingly violent sounds of true qi colliding.

Yun Long, just how strong were you?