Too Lazy to Listen, a Clean and Swift One-Hit Kill

Yin Qiyue murmured to herself, but no one answered her.

"Let's go down." Qin Wangchuan's voice from a distance pulled her back to reality.

Below, the Qinglan Holy Land was already standing in battle array.

"We respectfully welcome the Immortals!"

The Sect Master of the Holy Land knelt prostrate on the ground, his voice resonant, echoing through the mountains.

The entire Qinglan Holy Land, from elders and deacons down to disciples and servants, all bowed their heads, foreheads pressed tightly against the ground in a posture of extreme piety.

--It was no different from last time.

Yet, it was completely different.

Yin Qiyue followed behind Qin Wangchuan, walking slowly off the Flying Ship, her gaze lowered.

The status was different.

Last time, she was one of the many kneeling in the crowd; but this time, she finally saw clearly.

Or perhaps, she couldn't see clearly at all.

She could only see the dark, dense mass of tiny dots kneeling on the ground.

It's like looking at ants.

Yin Qiyue thought to herself, then secretly glanced at Qin Wangchuan in the lead, continuing her train of thought:

Is he already used to being worshipped like this?

"What are the Immortals' orders?"

Xuanmingzi asked, his voice trembling as his forehead remained pressed to the ground.

His luxurious Purple Gold Daoist Robe was spread out across the bluestone slabs, the intricate cloud patterns on his cuffs now stained with dust.

The aura of these Immortals before him was even more formidable than those who had visited last time.

That invisible pressure was like a physical weight, making the surrounding air grow viscous.

From Yin Qiyue's perspective, she could see that the backs of the elders kneeling in the front row were already soaked with cold sweat, yet they didn't even dare to wipe it away.

So... even someone as powerful as the Sect Master is no different from an ordinary person.

She suddenly realized that if they were strangers, in the eyes of these worshippers, she would be no different from an Immortal herself.

And what was even more terrifying was--

Unlike the posturing young masters he had seen before, the young master seemed truly accustomed to this, as if it were second nature.

There wasn't even a ripple in his calm eyes, as if the prostrations of the people at his feet were no different from morning dew sliding off a leaf—merely the most mundane sight in heaven and earth.

Qin Wangchuan lowered his head and scanned the scene, casting a faint glance at him.

"You are the Sect Master of Qinglan?"

His voice was unhurried and steady.

The kneeling Xuanmingzi's frame trembled, yet he dared not fully straighten his back.

"It is this old servant. Whatever the Immortal desires, please command it. The entire Qinglan Holy Land will exhaust every effort, and we shall not hesitate to go through fire and water!"

Before his voice had even faded, a bead of cold sweat slid down his temple, splashing imperceptibly against the bluestone floor.

After speaking, Xuanmingzi pressed his body even lower, sprawling on the ground almost like a toad. The gold-embroidered hem of his Daoist robe fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, as if even the fabric were shivering in terror.

Having confirmed the identity of the person before him, Qin Wangchuan did not waste words. He directly raised his hand and traced the character "Slash" in the air.

The moment the golden rune solidified in the air, a sword aura tore through the void!

Sshhh—

Blood sprayed out.

Xuanmingzi, who had held the reins of the Qinglan Holy Land for hundreds of years, didn't even have time to show shock before the center of his body eerily dissolved and vanished.

Wherever that golden sword aura passed, flesh, blood, and bone evaporated silently, leaving only two halves of a corpse frozen in a kneeling posture.

The luxurious Daoist robe lost its support and collapsed to the sides like a butterfly with broken wings. This Sect Master, who had once dominated the winds and clouds, was reduced to two severed remains that crashed to the ground in full view of everyone.

The sword aura did not stop there. Like a celestial river pouring forth, it streaked across the sky for dozens of miles.

Wherever it passed, mountains crumbled and clouds were cleaved in two. It plowed a bottomless trench through the thousand-year-old path of the Qinglan Holy Land, finally plunging into Bibo Lake at the foot of the mountain.

It stirred up a thousand-foot curtain of water, splitting the entire lake in two before falling into silence.

[Objective 1: Completed; Simulation Count +1, Origin +75]

[Objective 2: Failed.]

[Objective 3: Completed; Origin +150]

(Congratulations to the Host for completing a nearly impossible mission! According to the system's calculations, the success rate for this mission was only 0.0000000000001%! Yet, with heaven-defying luck and unyielding spirit, the Host has created a miracle unprecedented and unlikely to be repeated!)

Listening to the absurdly exaggerated flattery from the system in his mind, Qin Wangchuan felt not a shred of achievement or joy from completing the mission. At this moment, he had only one thought:

He wanted to laugh.

However, this casual strike of his not only shocked the bystanders, but even the kendo genius Li Qingluan was stunned by it.

"Was that a Sword Seal you just unleashed?"

"But how could you use it without a sword???"

Current Origin: 19.5x.
Current Simulation Attempts: 1

He had obtained a few simulation attempts from check-ins over the past few years at home, but the results were far from ideal.

Fortunately, his Origin was already approaching 20 times.

"Why must one use a sword?" Qin Wangchuan countered, then looked at the Slash he had just performed.

It was not merely a single "character," but rather, as they had discussed earlier, the integration of the six characters—Li, Slash, Suspend, Meteor, Defend, and Execute—into one minimalist "Slash."

In essence, it was no longer a Spirit Art, but a Dao Art.

Under the enhancement of his Supreme Dao Heart, the power was simply heaven-defying; even he himself was slightly taken aback.

Li Qingluan widened her eyes: "Since it is a Sword Seal, it should naturally be guided by a sword. That is common sense!"

"Is that so?"

"Is it not?"

The two stared at each other, wide-eyed.

When his gaze fell upon the sword at Li Qingluan's waist, he suddenly realized something.

The two had grown up in different environments.

--She was born into a kendo family and had slept with a sword since childhood;

--While he was born into the Qin Clan, where the strong reigned supreme.

As a member of the Heavenly Sword Li Clan, how could she ever have the thought of putting the sword down?

"It can be unleashed without a sword...?"

Li Qingluan looked toward the members of the Li Clan behind her, but those who met her gaze shook their heads one after another.

They had never heard of such a thing either.

After the confusion came shock.

Doesn't that mean the Young Master of the Qin Clan was born with a Sword Heart?

At this, the gazes of the crowd instantly grew complex.

They were in-laws now, yet he had hidden such vital intelligence.

Qin Wangchuan did not notice their thoughts. As his mind churned, a few ideas quietly surfaced:

Did I take the wrong path again?

Would the power be even greater if I unleashed it with a sword?

He shook his head, temporarily setting these thoughts aside to explore once he returned home.

His gaze shifted to the scene before him.

Qinglan Holy Land was deathly silent.

The mangled remains of Xuanmingzi lay on the ground, blood silently soaking into the bluestone, yet not a single person dared to look up.

—The Sect Master was dead.

—Wiped out by a single sword aura, as if crushing an ant.

The kneeling bodies of the Holy Land's elders trembled slightly, their foreheads pressed firmly against the ground, their very breathing stagnant.

They could clearly hear the frantic pounding of their own hearts, yet they dared not let their robes make even the slightest rustling sound, terrified of drawing that person's attention.

I will die...

If I look up, I will die...

Several elders had their magical treasures lying right beside their hands, yet they dared not move even a fingertip.

The people who had just been discussing how to deal with Yin Qiyue now had only one thought in their minds—

Please, don't let me be noticed...

A mountain breeze swept by, carrying a few withered leaves across the plaza filled with kneeling cultivators.

Those who were usually high and mighty true disciples and Deacon Elders now looked as if their spines had been ripped out, curled up like shrimp.

Some had teeth chattering, but they bit their tongues hard, swallowing the metallic taste of blood; others were drenched in cold sweat that pooled into a small puddle on the ground, yet they dared not wipe it away.

They didn't even dare to show grief or anger—because in the eyes of an immortal from the Upper Realm, such emotions might be considered an offense.

Resistance?

Don't make me laugh.

Yin Qiyue stood behind Qin Wangchuan, her expression complex as she gazed at his back.

"The Sect Master was kind to me. Why did you kill him, Young Master?"

"Is there a reason? Or is it merely a bloodlust?"

She did not know the reason behind it, and Qin Wangchuan felt no need to explain it to her.

He stood there, and his mere presence forced the entire Holy Land to bow its head.

"This Qinglan Holy Land of yours is not very peaceful."

The youth's calm voice descended like a divine decree, echoing across the deathly silent plaza.

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and left with his people, his robes fluttering in the breeze he stirred up.

The crowd knelt on the ground, glancing at one another.

Though no one could grasp his meaning, they all understood one thing clearly—

This was not a trial.

It was mercy.

It was an immortal taking pity, granting ants the grace to continue their wretched existence.

"Right."

Qin Wangchuan suddenly paused and looked back. This simple action caused everyone present to hold their breath, as if the very air had solidified.

He tossed two items, which traced an arc through the air toward Yin Qiyue—

An ancient mirror engraved with cloud patterns, its surface shimmering with obscure Daoist rhythms under the sunlight;

A Cyan Jade Pill Bottle, from which the faint sounds of dragon roars and tiger howls emanated.

"This item is called the Tongxuan Mirror. I will contact you through it when necessary." Qin Wangchuan's voice remained indifferent, yet it made Yin Qiyue instinctively straighten her back.

He paused after speaking, then added, "The pills in the bottle are just a little something extra..."

"How far you can go depends entirely on your own fortune."