Five Wiped Out

"Eh, these two corpses..."

Zhao Han suddenly noticed wisps of black qi rising from the foreheads of the two corpses, gradually forming the shape of skulls.

How similar it was to Wang Bao's death.

"Wang Bao was in the Yin Tong Cult too!" Zhao Han realized at once.

But the Hall Master had already closed in, and Zhao Han didn't dwell on it.

The Hall Master and Zhao Han clashed in an instant. The soft sword in the Hall Master's hand coiled like a snake, its movements nimble and treacherous.

Zhao Han was no less formidable. Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave was both offense and defense: he slashed fiercely, then drew back to guard. For a brief moment, he actually held the Hall Master at bay.

"That's Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave!"

"You're a disciple of Mad Saber Martial Arts School. Aren't you afraid my Yin Tong Cult will wipe out your whole school?"

The Hall Master was furious. Even a little martial arts school in a County Town dared to oppose the Yin Tong Cult?

Even the Poisonous Snake Gang and Black Wolf Gang, the two powers of Blackwater County, only dared to resist them in secret.

Anyone who openly declared their break with the Yin Tong Cult was sure to die.

Besides, Master Yang Wuji of Mad Saber Martial Arts School was said to have reached the peak of the Muscle Refining Realm at most. His limited aptitude made it difficult for him to advance to the Bone Refining Realm.

The Yin Tong Cult had no idea how many people in the Muscle Refining Realm they'd killed.

And now one of its disciples dared to oppose them too.

It was downright absurd.

Or perhaps this guy was simply brainless. Maybe he'd never even heard of the Yin Tong Cult, which was why he'd dared attack them without fear.

By rights, such a hotheaded fool should have died long ago. How had he survived until now?

Was the world getting better and better? Even hotheaded fools could live long now?

"Clang!"

Their weapons met evenly, and the two separated.

"Take this!"

Zhao Han immediately flung out Soft Muscle Powder mixed with lime, but the Hall Master was already on guard. He raised a hand to shield his face and retreated.

The Soft Muscle Powder only landed on his clothes, with a little sticking to his face and hair.

"Heh heh. Did you really think I wasn't prepared? I took an Antidote Pill beforehand. A low trick like Soft Muscle Powder won't work on me."

The Hall Master sneered in disdain.

Using such underhanded methods meant his stamina was badly depleted and he'd run out of options, so he was making one last desperate stand.

But where could he run?

The other two had blocked off both sides. No matter what, they could hold him up for a while.

He was trapped in a net with no way out.

He should blame himself for trying to climb the wall. He could've just left quietly.

"Who said it was Soft Muscle Powder?" Zhao Han sneered inwardly, then pressed forward with his saber to fight the Hall Master again.

As for his stamina, he'd hardly used any.

After all, he'd trained in three martial arts. They overlapped in threes, like water being poured into an inverted cone-shaped barrel: the level always rose, though the gain grew smaller over time.

But no matter what, it was still better than practicing just one art.

In a one-on-one fight, Zhao Han wouldn't be the first to fall.

"Clang... clang..."

They exchanged moves again and again, neither able to get the better of the other.

"Take this!"

Suddenly, Zhao Han stepped back to open some distance, then threw something again.

The Hall Master thought it was Soft Muscle Powder once more and only raised his arm to shield his eyes. He had no idea it was water.

"Water? Could it be poisoned water? But my Holy Cult's Antidote Pill can neutralize all poisons. So what if it's poisoned water? I'll kill you before it takes effect."

The Hall Master scoffed and immediately prepared to charge forward, putting in one last burst of effort to finish Zhao Han off.

But after taking two steps, the Hall Master felt his whole body burning, as if he'd been splashed with boiling water.

"Argh!"

Pain seared through him in an instant. Blisters sprang across his exposed skin, and his scalp burned with unbearable pain.

"L-lime! Argh... you despicable bastard..."

"Keep talking and you'll die horribly."

Strike while the iron was hot.

"Die!"

"Mad Saber Three Stacks Wave, Second Wave!"

Zhao Han lunged forward and hacked down with a slash that seemed capable of splitting Mount Hua in two.

The Hall Master raised his sword to block, but with burns covering his body, he couldn't muster enough strength.

With a clang, the steel saber smashed the sword aside, and the blow numbed his arm.

"Black Wolf Fist!"

Zhao Han's other hand was free. He quickly threw a punch, driving it into the Hall Master's chest.

"Argh!"

The punch sent him flying seven meters away, and his sword slipped from his grasp.

Zhao Han rushed after him without slowing, then brought a heavy foot down on his throat.

"Ugh..."

It wasn't enough. Zhao Han drove his saber down into the Hall Master's chest.

The Hall Master's eyes flew wide, his arms and legs thrashing wildly.

But it was all in vain.

After Zhao Han's relentless combination of blows, death was the only end left for him.

After taking the Hall Master out, Zhao Han immediately turned and charged at the other two.

Once the Hall Master fell, the two knew the tide had turned. They split up and fled at once.

"Trying to run? You think you can get away?"

Zhao Han picked up the sword lying on the ground as he ran and hurled it at the cultist on the left. It struck straight into the major artery in his thigh.

Blood gushed out in torrents, as if it cost nothing.

"Argh..."

The cultist screamed, his ability to move greatly diminished.

Zhao Han left him alone and instead raced after the one on the right.

That man had already climbed over the wall and escaped.

Zhao Han wasn't about to let a single one of these people calling themselves the Yin Tong Cult get away.

After climbing over the wall, Zhao Han spotted the cultist ten meters ahead.

He flicked his hand, and an axe appeared.

Zhao Han had all kinds of things stored in his System Space: lime, water, flatbread, dried meat, steamed buns. The axe was just one of them.

"Whoosh!"

"Take this!"

The flying axe cut through the air and landed squarely in the cultist's back.

Its sharp edge didn't hit him. Instead, the blunt end knocked him to the ground.

Zhao Han rushed up and kicked him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

Then he grabbed the man by his clothes, easily hoisted the hundred-and-thirty-pound man, and climbed back over the wall into the abandoned house.

Inside the courtyard, the cultist with the severed artery was leaning against a rock, his face already pale. His trouser leg was soaked with blood, and a huge pool of it had spread across the ground.

The air was thick with the smell of blood.

Even if Zhao Han didn't kill him, he wouldn't survive.

It was a major artery. Even with modern medical treatment, blood loss this severe would be too much to save him.

Leaving that man aside, Zhao Han walked over and delivered the final blow to the half-dead Hall Master.

All five were wiped out: four dead, one left alive as a prisoner.

Black qi appeared above the Hall Master's head too, forming the shape of a skull. It hovered for a while, then flew into the Boy Statue nearby.

The cultist who'd bled to death did the same.

So had the two who'd died earlier.

"This Boy Statue... Forget it. If I don't understand something, I shouldn't mess with it."

Then Zhao Han began searching the corpses.

Thirty-five taels of silver, plus some loose change.

Ten Energy Pills and five bottles of Antidote Pills, forty pills in total.

One Yin Wood Jade Pendant.

Two long swords and three steel sabers.

Shanyin Art... five copies!

He hadn't found any other martial arts manuals.

Zhao Han was a little surprised. Shanyin Art again.

So Wang Bao had also been a member of the Yin Tong Cult. Wang Hu and Li Dalong too.

And besides, had low-grade techniques become common as dirt?

Or did the Yin Tong Cult's lowest-ranking members all practice Shanyin Art?