The atmospheric pressure in the clearing dropped instantly as Lin Hao unleashed his full spiritual energy.
Blue waves of Qi radiated from his blade, cutting shallow grooves into the damp soil beneath his boots.
As a genius of the Third Layer of Qi Condensation, his raw power was undeniably impressive to the surrounding outer court disciples.
They backed away frantically, clearing a massive circle, terrified of being caught in the crossfire of his murderous rage.
“Ye Chen! Die for my brother!” Lin Hao roared.
He launched himself forward, his body blurring as he executed the advanced movement art of his faction—the Torrential Wave Step.
In the blink of an eye, he closed the ten-pace distance between them, his sword coming down in a savage, vertical arc designed to split Ye Chen from head to toe.
The blade screamed with a sharp, piercing whistle.
Ye Chen did not move until the glowing blue steel was inches from his forehead.
To the crowd, it looked like he had frozen in fear.
But in reality, Ye Chen was merely analyzing the strike.
To a former Sovereign, Lin Hao’s ultimate attack was filled with over a dozen fatal structural flaws.
At the absolute final millisecond, Ye Chen tilted his upper body backward by a mere inch.
The heavy blade sliced through the empty air, missing his nose by the breadth of a single hair.
The sheer force of Lin Hao’s missed strike slammed into the dirt behind Ye Chen, exploding the mud into a small crater.
Before Lin Hao could pull his sword back for a secondary sweep, Ye Chen’s right hand finally left his wide sleeve.
He did not draw his iron sword. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Instead, his fingers formed a rigid spear-hand strike, coated in a concentrated layer of liquid silver Qi.
With the speed of a snapping whip, he drove his fingertips straight into the center of Lin Hao’s exposed right wrist.
Crack.
The impact was sharp and precise.
The silver Qi exploded outward, instantly fracturing the small bones in Lin Hao’s wrist and severing the spiritual channels feeding his hand.
Lin Hao let out a muffled gasp of agony as his fingers involuntarily opened, his expensive steel sword slipping from his grasp.
Before the weapon could even hit the ground, Ye Chen extended his left hand, caught the hilt of Lin Hao’s falling sword mid-air, and rotated on his heel.
In a single, fluid motion, he drove the flat side of the heavy hilt violently into Lin Hao’s ribs.
Boom.
The sound of the impact echoed across the clearing like a struck drum.
Three of Lin Hao’s ribs snapped instantly under the brutal kinetic force of Ye Chen’s frost-tempered body.
The arrogant young master was sent flying backward through the air, crashing heavily into a thick pine tree before collapsing into the dirt, coughing up a mouthful of dark, frothy blood.
“Young Master Hao!” Lin Feng shrieked from the sidelines, his face completely pale with horror.
The entire clearing of disciples stood frozen, their mouths wide open in absolute disbelief.
One move.
The Third Layer genius of the inner court, utilizing his strongest offensive art, had been systematically dismantled in less than two seconds—without Ye Chen even drawing his own weapon.
He stared at Ye Chen, his eyes filled with a primal, suffocating terror.
“You… your cultivation…” Lin Hao wheezed, his voice trembling violently as he noticed the dense, flawless silver sheen vibrating around Ye Chen’s body.
“You are not at the First Layer… You are at the Second Layer! No, your Qi… it is too pure… How is this possible?!”
Ye Chen calmly tossed Lin Hao’s stolen sword onto the ground, the steel clattering against the stones.
He walked toward the trembling youth with measured, heavy steps, his shadow falling over Lin Hao like the shroud of an executioner.
“I told you before, Lin Hao,” Ye Chen said softly, his dark, ancient eyes locking onto the young master’s gaze, chilling him to the very marrow.
“The heavens made a mistake when they tried to break my roots. Your minor inner faction spent years trampling on my name, thinking a mortal could never fight back. Today, I am simply collecting the first installment of your debt.”
“Stop! Ye Chen, if you cripple him, the clan elders will execute you on the spot!” Lin Xinyue’s voice suddenly cut through the clearing as she stepped into the open, her crimson robes fluttering, her hand gripping her spiritual whip.
She had just arrived from the eastern sector and was staring at the scene with profound shock.
Ye Chen did not even turn his head to look at her.
He stopped bare inches away from the weeping Lin Hao.
“The laws of this minor clan cannot govern my actions, Lin Xinyue,” Ye Chen whispered, his voice echoing in the silent clearing like the decree of a god.
He raised his right foot and slammed it down with brutal precision directly onto Lin Hao’s left knee, crushing the joint into fragments.
Lin Hao let out a blood-curdling scream of pure agony before the sheer pain overwhelmed his consciousness, causing him to go entirely limp in the dirt.
Ye Chen casually bent down, ripped Lin Hao’s high-grade storage pouch from his belt, and slung it into his own sleeve.
He turned around, his dark eyes sweeping over the dozens of terrified disciples who immediately fell to their knees, lowering their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.
“The trials are over,” Ye Chen announced to the silent valley.
“Anyone who mentions my cultivation to the elders before we leave this place… will end up exactly like him.”