Myriad Dragon Divine Sovereign

"Just who are you?" The short old man’s expression changed as he saw the woman in black reveal her true cultivation, and he barked the question.

"You’re not qualified to know who I am." The woman in black’s eyes were filled with heavy disdain.

"You!"

The short old man, used to being high and mighty, had never suffered such an insult. His face flushed red as the Primordial Qi around him began to roil. He was clearly burning with rage.

"The Taiyi Pavilion? I don’t think they’re anything special either."

Just as tensions reached a breaking point, Wen Qingye strolled in. He looked at the short old man and sneered.

"A disciple of the Celestial Profound Sect?" Upon seeing Wen Qingye, a flicker of killing intent appeared in the old man’s eyes.

Wen Qingye took a deep breath, his icy gaze stabbing toward the old man like a sharp sword. "Since your Heaven-Burying Sect is affiliated with the Taiyi Pavilion, then you deserve to die too!"

The woman in black slowly retreated to the side. Wen Qingye’s sudden appearance and his obvious, deep-seated grudge against the Taiyi Pavilion meant a fight was coming. She was, of course, more than happy to watch the tigers tear each other apart.

’This kid is courting death, and I can’t do anything to stop him. It’s a shame, though. Such a young, handsome body, about to be destroyed,’ the woman in black thought, secretly shaking her head.

The old man’s face was so grim it could have dripped water. He roared, "Arrogant whelp! Do you have a death wish?"

"Hahahaha! I may not know how to write the word ’death,’ but I’ll make sure you learn!" Wen Qingye laughed boisterously. He stamped his foot, unleashing a wild aura as the sword in his hand flashed from its sheath like a bolt of silk.

’How can this kid’s aura be so ferocious? No, I must seize the initiative and suppress his momentum!’ The old man was startled, but he calmed himself in an instant. He then thrust his Iron Staff fiercely toward Wen Qingye.

The Iron Staff moved like the wind, tearing through the air with a piercing sonic boom. In the next instant, the cold metal tip appeared right before Wen Qingye’s face. The old man, who had been dozens of feet away just a moment ago, had crossed the distance in a flash.

Wen Qingye felt the whistling force of the attack and his body jolted, but his reaction was not the least bit slow.

The One Thought Sword, thin as a cicada’s wing, sliced lightly through the air. It instantly became a vicious blur, too fast for the eye to follow, as it hacked directly at the approaching Iron Staff. In that same instant, the Primordial Qi in his body erupted, pushed to its absolute limit.

CLANG!

With a sharp ring, their weapons clashed. Wen Qingye’s wrist flicked with the momentum, and his longsword abruptly tilted. It moved like a dancing specter, sliding along the pitch-black Iron Staff to slice at the old man’s withered hands.

’This kid’s sword... it’s terrifying!’ The old man’s face fell, and he immediately shed any last trace of contempt for his opponent.

Even the woman in black, watching from afar, furrowed her brow. The last bit of disdain in her heart vanished without a trace.

The four bystanders could only see two blurs of motion, their figures flipping and turning amidst a shower of sparks. Wen Qingye pressed his attack, his movements like a twisting dragon, while the old man rapidly retreated. The onlookers were all slightly stunned.

From that single, simple probing exchange, both the old man and the woman in black could see just how superb Wen Qingye’s Swordsmanship was.

The old man retreated rapidly, but Wen Qingye had no intention of letting him go so easily. He followed closely, the sword in his hand relentlessly pressing toward the old man’s wrist.

"You’re pushing it too far!" the old man roared. He swung the Iron Staff downward with both arms, sending a terrifying force crashing into Wen Qingye’s slicing sword.

A jolt shot through Wen Qingye’s wrist, forcing him back three steps.

Seeing Wen Qingye stumble, a flash of glee appeared in the old man’s eyes. He strode toward Wen Qingye, swinging the Iron Staff in a direct, powerful sweep. The wind howled around it, a display of its formidable might.

"Autumn Wind and Falling Leaves!"

Dense Primordial Qi coated the Iron Staff, which swept toward Wen Qingye with Thunderous Force.

The moment Wen Qingye saw the old man rushing toward him, the Primordial Qi throughout his body began to roil. The One Thought Sword in his right hand emitted a brilliant golden light.

"Second Form of the Sword Emperor Technique! Massacre!"

The One Thought Sword pulsed with golden light, and then the golden Sword Aura seemed to divide again and again, transforming into thousands upon thousands of sword images.

"Massacre..."

"Massac..."

"Mas..."

It was as if the shouts of a thousand armies rang in their ears, a deafening roar.

The golden Sword Aura slammed heavily into the old man’s Iron Staff. The sound of the impact reached everyone’s ears as roiling waves of energy spread frantically in all directions.

The old man staggered back four or five steps, his face deathly pale. The webbing of his hands was split open and bleeding.

Wen Qingye stared coldly at the old man. "The people of the Taiyi Pavilion deserve to be killed. The dogs of the Taiyi Pavilion deserve it even more."

"Hmph. Are you trying to make an enemy of the Taiyi Pavilion?" the old man scoffed upon hearing Wen Qingye’s words, his tone laced with mockery.

"You’re not wrong. It’s just a shame you won’t live to see the day the Taiyi Pavilion is annihilated." After speaking, Wen Qingye raised his sword and charged the old man.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The four nearby Martial Artists of the Yin-Yang Realm’s Eighth Heaven could only see Wen Qingye and the old man dissolve into afterimages, their ears filled with the ringing of clashing metal.

The woman in black watched Wen Qingye, whose sword danced as his ink-black hair flew, and a sense of caution began to rise within her. ’This kid has actually managed to completely suppress that old fellow from the Heaven-Burying Sect. It’s not just his Swordsmanship that’s amazing; it seems his physical body is extraordinary, too.’

Wen Qingye met the old man head-on every time. But after each clash, the old man felt his arm go numb and his entire body begin to tremble as intense pain shot through his limbs.

Just as he assumed Wen Qingye must be feeling the same, Wen Qingye’s next strike would be even swifter, sharper, and more ruthless.

In the short span of half an incense stick, the two had already exchanged several hundred blows.

BANG!

Wielding his sword with both hands, Wen Qingye brought it down heavily upon the old man’s Iron Staff. The old man could no longer hold his ground and was sent flying backward.

THUD!

The sound of a body smashing into stone reached everyone’s ears, and all their faces changed at once.

Wen Qingye’s brow furrowed. The old man had flown in the exact direction of the coffin, and his body had smashed into it, shattering it to pieces.

"AARGH!" The old man struggled to his feet, spewing a mouthful of bright red blood that dripped onto the coffin’s wreckage below.

HSSS!

At that moment, the entire hall began to tremble violently. The ground shook and the mountains swayed. An unparalleled, terrifying aura began to rise, seemingly accompanied by the shrill wail of a ghost.

CREAK!

The thick coffin fragments suddenly shifted aside, revealing a crack. Two beams of green light shot out from within, like the eyes of a Fierce Ghost.

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