Slaughter

The two made their way up the damp stone steps and returned to the abandoned warehouse in the southern city.

"Brother Qin, I feel like someone's following us." Tang Xiaoman stretched as if nothing were wrong, but kept his voice low.

"No matter. Take the secluded route and draw them out."

Qin Jue kept his eyes forward, his pace steady.

Tang Xiaoman grinned, showing a row of white teeth. "Just what I wanted. I've been itching for a fight all the way here."

The two understood each other without a word and walked out of the abandoned warehouse side by side. The streets were sparsely populated, making this the perfect time to act. They avoided the main road and turned into a secluded alley that led deeper into the southern city.

Qin Jue stopped and turned to look at the empty alley entrance behind them. "Since you're here, stop hiding. You've been following us all this way. Aren't you tired?"

As soon as he finished speaking, several dark figures sprang from the shadows.

There were five of them. In an instant, they blocked Qin Jue and Tang Xiaoman's escape routes in both directions.

Their leader was a tall, lean man holding a thick-backed Ghost Head Saber. Rusted blood clung to its blade.

"Not bad, kid. You've got sharp senses." The scar-faced man didn't panic at being discovered. Instead, he studied the two with interest. "Since you knew we were following you, yet still dared to walk into this dead-end alley, you must be pretty confident in your skills."

His greedy gaze swept over the bulging bundle on Qin Jue's chest, and he licked his cracked lips.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My surname is Zhao. My friends on the street do me the honor of calling me Zhao Yanwang. My brothers and I have been making a living outside Wuming Workshop for quite some time."

Zhao Yanwang rested the Ghost Head Saber on his shoulder and spoke casually. "You two look unfamiliar. I take it this is your first time in a place like this? The waters around Wuming Workshop run deep. There are some things you can't handle. I'm feeling generous, so if you leave your bundles and Gold Notes behind, I'll make an exception and let you walk away alive."

One of the black-clad men behind him cackled along. "Boss, why waste your breath on these two greenhorns? Just kill them. Look how fair and tender that kid is. He's bound to have plenty of valuables on him."

Qin Jue remained calm, showing not the slightest trace of fear despite being outnumbered. His gaze swept over the four black-clad men, then settled on Zhao Yanwang.

Hundred Refinements Sixth Layer. The other four are all at the Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer. Qin Jue quietly assessed their strength. With skills like that, they're nothing but a rabble.

He looked at Zhao Yanwang and said coolly, "You're seasoned at this. If you're so practiced at killing and robbing people, you must have plenty of lives on your hands."

"Of course." Zhao Yanwang grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth. "Not too many, not too few. Counting you two, that'll make exactly one hundred and five. In this world, if you don't have a heart of iron, you won't last long. If you want someone to blame, blame yourselves for flashing your wealth in public."

Tang Xiaoman had heard enough. He rolled his eyes and cursed, "You sure talk a lot. If you're going to fight, hurry up. I've got to get back for dinner. Take a piss and look at yourself—what kind of person are you? Zhao Yanwang? You're more like Zhao the Turtle!"

The smile froze on Zhao Yanwang's face, and murderous intent blazed in his eyes. "You don't know when to quit! Since you're in such a hurry to die, I'll grant your wish! Brothers, attack! Leave that smart-mouthed brat alive. I'm going to cut out his tongue and have it with my wine!"

"Kill!"

The four black-clad men could no longer hold back. At Zhao Yanwang's command, they roared and charged at Qin Jue and Tang Xiaoman, swinging their weapons.

At that very moment, a flash of silver flickered deep in Qin Jue's pupils!

Myriad Forms Style: Mind Mirror!

The world seemed to slow down. The wind, the shouts, the weapons cutting through the air—all of it became slower and clearer.

In Qin Jue's sight, the four black-clad men moved as if they had been slowed countless times. Every sneer on their faces, every twitch of their muscles, stood out in perfect clarity. Their defenses were riddled with openings.

Too slow.

Far too slow.

Startling Swan Flash: Floating Light!

Qin Jue drove off the ground, his figure blurring into a streak as if he had vanished into thin air.

The black-clad man charging at the front saw a flash before his eyes. Before he could react, a chilling sword glint rapidly widened in his pupils.

Clang—

A clear, ringing sword cry suddenly rang out, like a cicada's wing vibrating, sharp enough to pierce the eardrums.

It was the sound of the Cold Iron Sword vibrating at high speed!

Cicada Wing: Thousand Layers!

The bandit's grin had yet to fade when his throat turned cold. A line of blood spurted out.

One strike, one kill!

But Qin Jue's figure didn't pause for an instant. Using the force of the rebound, he veered right like a phantom.

The black-clad man on the right was raising his saber to strike when he suddenly felt a chill beneath his arm.

Qin Jue swept past him, the Cold Iron Sword spraying a rain of blood.

"When did..." The black-clad man's eyes widened. He looked down at the blood gushing from his chest, his face full of disbelief, then crumpled to the ground.

The two remaining black-clad men were completely panicked.

In the blink of an eye, two of their companions had fallen into pools of blood. They hadn't even touched the hem of their opponent's clothes!

"He's dangerous! Form up!" one of them shouted in terror.

"Too late." Qin Jue's icy voice sounded behind them.

He turned, and the long sword in his hand traced an arc, as elegant as a crescent moon hooked in the horns of an antelope.

The swordlight split in two, then four, blossoming into countless fine threads in the air.

The two black-clad men saw nothing but a dense web of sword shadows. Unable to tell the real from the false, they could only swing their weapons in desperate defense.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The moment the weapons in their hands touched those threads of swordlight, they were sliced with countless cracks like tofu, then shattered into a storm of iron fragments.

The swordlight pierced through them.

The two men stood rigid, thin red lines appearing across their throats.

Pfft—

Blood gushed out like fountains. Eyes wide, the two clutched at their throats and fell to the ground. They twitched a few times, then lay still.

A deathly silence fell.

From the moment Qin Jue attacked to the deaths of all four men, no more than three breaths had passed.

The four bandits who had just been so aggressive were now four cold corpses.

Zhao Yanwang was still frozen in a forward-leaning stance, but the Ghost Head Saber in his hand hung motionless in midair. His once menacing face was now filled with terror and shock. He stared at Qin Jue as if he were a monster crawling out of hell.

"You... who are you?" Zhao Yanwang's voice trembled. The fluid, effortless slaughter and swordsmanship of such terrifying speed were beyond anything a young man should have been capable of. Even veteran killers who had spent years living by the blade were no better!

Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer... How can he possibly be at the Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer?! Zhao Yanwang screamed inwardly.

Qin Jue flicked the blood from his blade, his expression still calm.

He looked up at Zhao Yanwang and said evenly, "Your men have gone on ahead. Don't keep them waiting too long."

"Run!"

Only one thought remained in Zhao Yanwang's mind. He was a decisive man, and the moment he saw that things had gone wrong, he spun around and bolted toward the alley entrance without a moment's hesitation.

What did face or money matter? Compared to his life, it was all worthless!

"Trying to run? Did you ask me first?"

Tang Xiaoman, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave a mocking laugh and darted forward.

Mountain Stomping Leg!

Tang Xiaoman was incredibly fast. After a few bounds, he cut off Zhao Yanwang's escape route. He swept out his right leg, the wind whistling as it headed straight for Zhao Yanwang's face.

"Get out of my way!"

Zhao Yanwang roared and swept his Ghost Head Saber at Tang Xiaoman, trying to force him back.

Tang Xiaoman didn't meet the attack head-on. He twisted his waist in midair, his body bending at an impossible angle as he narrowly evaded the blade. Then he planted his left foot against the wall and kicked off, hurtling back as his right foot slammed into Zhao Yanwang's shoulder.

Thump!

Zhao Yanwang staggered, losing his balance.

"Damn slippery eel!" Zhao Yanwang cursed inwardly. On any other day, he could have killed a Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer brat like this with a few swings of his saber. But now, with only escape on his mind, he couldn't bring even seven-tenths of his strength to bear.

In that brief delay, a murderous intent had already locked onto him.

Qin Jue was here.

"Since you came, stay."

Qin Jue's voice was cold and merciless. The Cold Iron Sword in his hand began to hum again, its tip pointing straight at Zhao Yanwang's back.

Zhao Yanwang spun around, his eyes bloodshot. "You want me dead? Then I'll fight you to the death!"

He stopped trying to flee. Gripping his saber in both hands, he poured all his blood and qi into the Ghost Head Saber and brought it down at Qin Jue with all his strength.

Mountain Splitting Slash!

The blow was heavy and powerful, carrying the full force of a Hundred Refinements Sixth Layer warrior. The air itself seemed to explode beneath it.

Faced with this desperate attack, Qin Jue advanced instead of retreating.

Just before he would have collided with the blade, he shifted his steps and leaned to the left.

He dodged the blade by a hair's breadth.

That was the terrifying part of Myriad Forms Style: Mind Mirror. In the face of absolute calm and perception, no attack's trajectory could escape notice.

Then Qin Jue flicked his wrist.

Cicada Wing: Thousand Layers!

The blade slid along the Ghost Head Saber's length, and its high-frequency vibrations instantly transferred through the weapon.

Crack—

Zhao Yanwang felt a violent jolt in his palm. The Ghost Head Saber that had been with him for years couldn't withstand the force of the vibrations and snapped cleanly in two!

The broken blade spun away and buried itself deep in the wall beside them.

"My saber..." Zhao Yanwang's pupils contracted.

Before he could react, Qin Jue's sword was already upon him.

A flash of cold light. The blade pierced his heart and emerged from his back.

Qin Jue's wrist jerked, and a burst of force instantly crushed his heart.

Zhao Yanwang's body stiffened. The light in his eyes rapidly faded. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but all that came out was a few meaningless, bubbling gasps before he crumpled to the ground.

Tang Xiaoman walked over and nudged Zhao Yanwang's corpse with his foot. Only after confirming he was dead did he let out a long breath.

"Phew... That was close. He really was scary once he started fighting for his life." Tang Xiaoman patted his chest, then looked at Qin Jue with admiration. "Brother Qin, that sword strike just now... Tsk, incredible. You killed four Hundred Refinements Fifth Layer fighters in less than three breaths. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

Though he had seen Qin Jue fight before, every time left him newly shaken. That ruthless decisiveness, that perfect control of the battle's rhythm—it was as if Qin Jue had been born for combat.

Qin Jue sheathed his sword, his face somewhat pale. Using Myriad Forms Style and Cicada Wing: Thousand Layers in succession had taken a heavy toll on his physical strength and mental energy, and he still hadn't fully recovered from before.

"Cut the chatter. Search the bodies." Qin Jue steadied his breathing. "If these men are seasoned bandits, they should have something worth taking."

"Sure thing. This is my specialty." At the mention of searching the bodies, Tang Xiaoman perked up and skillfully rifled through the corpses.

A moment later, the two had finished looting and quickly disappeared into the night.

On a rooftop several hundred yards from the alley, a dark figure stood in the shadows, blending into the night.

It was the black-clad guard who had been following them all along.

He took a communication talisman from his robes and reported in a low voice, "Young Master, the target has dealt with the five bandits. The fight went exactly as you expected—clean and decisive."

A moment later, the Purple Robe Young Master's amused voice came through the talisman. "Excellent. It seems his performance at the Hundred Battles Martial Training Ground was no fluke. This boy really does have some ability. I've already found out who he is: Qin Jue, an Outer Court Disciple of Qingcang Academy, a discarded branch-family son."

"Should I keep following him?"

"No need." A hint of amusement colored the Purple Robe Young Master's voice. "Once he returns to the academy, I'll go see him myself. The Outer Court Grand Competition is coming up. I'd like to see how far he can go."

"Yes."

The black-clad guard answered softly. With a flash, he disappeared into the night.