The Blade-Wielding Legend

The killing intent was as thick as fog, suffocating.

Every abnormal sway of the branches and leaves, every fleeting glint in the shadows, signified a new enemy closing in.

The pursuers searching the nearby mountains swarmed like a bloodthirsty hive.

Li Yan leaned against a gnarled ancient pine, the Duan Chen Blade held across his body, the bloodstains on its edge glistened dark red in the dim light.

His Spiritual Sense was as taut as a bowstring, clearly perceiving not only the disordered footsteps and breathing around him but also the distant, mountain-like yet needle-sharp auras locking onto this area from afar.

This sense of oppression was definitely not something ordinary ranger warriors could compare to; it had to be true experts from the Japan Mystical Sect, possibly from Hiei Mountain or some hidden Shuyan Dojo.

The opponent was setting up a ritual ground, preparing long-range spell attacks.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Every moment of delay thickened the encirclement, bringing those terrifying auras closer, with attacks possibly imminent at any moment.

Li Yan’s eyes flashed with fierceness; the remaining Thunder Astral within him was no longer spared and was instantly urged forth.

The Magic Method of the Divine Transformation Scripture activated, the Soul-hooking Thunder Lock whistled out, crackling, and soon layers of intertwined thunder locks solidified in the void, wrapping around him.

The thunder locks were not binding but integrating.

Blinding electric light exploded abruptly, engulfing him entirely.

In the light, his figure seemed to be rising, expanding—not a real physical change, but a visual distortion caused by the extreme condensation of Thunder Astral, making him appear like a Divine General born from thunder.

Electric light surged around him, making his hair and beard stand on end, his eyes seemingly flickering with electric arcs, and even the Duan Chen Blade in his hand was coated with a layer of flowing, scorching white light, humming incessantly.

Thunder God Transformation!

His speed, strength, and even innate resistance to sinister spells doubled in this moment.

With a loud crash!

Li Yan moved, leaving only a gradually dissipating lightning afterimage in place, his true form already cutting into the enemy ranks like real lightning.

Fast!

Indescribably fast!

The pursuers only saw a flash before they were hit by the lightning.

Not only blinding but also as sharp and cutting as a blade.

A spell-casting Onmyoji midway through his incantation, the spell was abruptly stopped, a burning, paralyzing sensation coming from his neck, then his vision spun...

A "Ghost Warrior" brandishing a Wild Great Sword, surrounded by faint ghost fire, barely raised his blade before the lightning pierced through his chest and out his back, the ghost fire wailing as it dissipated, leaving only charred, bloodless flesh and the smell of cooked meat...

Several ninjas burst from the shadows of trees and soil to launch surprise attacks; shurikens and poisoned kunai barely reached three feet of Li Yan before being struck, melted by the jumping electric arcs...

Li Yan’s blade light swept like a Thunder Serpent, bringing a shower of blood.

This was not a battle; it was a slaughter!

The Thunder Technique, supreme Yang and strong, had an innate suppression over Japanese spells dealing with Yin Sha, Shikigami, and ghosts.

Many attacking spells, like Yin Wind Bundles, Filthy Blood Arrows, and Low-level Shikigami impacts, were purified and dispersed by the releasing Thunder Astral before getting close.

Blades and swords chopping at the layer of lightning not only failed to penetrate but their wielders’ arms numbed as they nearly dropped their weapons.

"Can’t see... can’t see anything!"

"It’s the Thunder God! The Thunder God has descended!"

Panic spread like a plague among the pursuers.

They didn’t fear death soldier skirmishes or mysterious spells, but had an instinctive fear of this awe-inspiring thunder power.

The formation began to scatter, some staggered back, others tried to hide in deeper shadows.

At this moment, a hoarse but penetrating voice sharply commanded in Japanese, "Why panic?! A mere human flesh and blood, how long can he wield heavenly thunder?!"

"He’s using a Secret Technique to forcibly boost his Thunder Astral; he’s already at his limit, won’t last long! Encircle him, exhaust him!"

The speaker, an elder in ink-colored hunting clothes with a standing crow hat, did not step forward, just stood under a low pine on the outskirts, gazing sharply, holding a string of black prayer beads.

He evidently had insight, recognizing the foundation of Li Yan’s "Thunder God Transformation"—it was not summoning the power of heaven and earth but consuming his own stored Thunder Astral, like a fire without source, burning fiercely but briefly.

As if to confirm his words, the blinding thunder light around Li Yan visibly dimmed at an observable rate.

The coiling Thunder Serpent thinned, the electric armor enveloping his body flickered uncertainly. His speed also slowed.

Though still faster than ordinary experts, it allowed the pursuers to barely track his movements.

"He’s done for!"

"The Thunder Astral is exhausted!"

"Kill him! The General Mansion offers a hefty reward!"

Hope and greed quickly overshadowed fear, the previously scattered pursuers clamored to surround again, blade glints and talisman hidden weapons attacking from all sides toward the fading figure.

Finally, the last wisp of thunder light extinguished like a candle in the wind.

Li Yan’s figure was completely exposed, his face pale as paper, cold sweat drenching his forehead and temples, his chest heaving violently, his hand gripping the blade slightly trembling.

The exhaustion of Thunder Astral not only brought a decline in strength but also a deep-seated feeling of depletion, his Qi Sea hollow, his meridians faintly aching.

"Haha! He’s done for!"

"Capture him!"

The pursuers excitedly cheered, pressing closer, their eyes gleaming with impending slaughter and greed.

The black-clothed elder’s mouth curled into a cold smile, the black prayer beads in his hand spinning faster, seemingly preparing some magic for a final strike against Li Yan.

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