"You were the one who severed God-Knife Logan Cross's arm?"
Quinn, the thresher, you'd better stick to blacksmithing.
Quinn withdrew his gaze, his face suddenly serious. Instantly, Rain He, Royal Halberd, Shu Yao, and Sabrina all shifted a step away from him, unease and suspicion flickering in their eyes.
For a moment, it felt as if the blacksmith boy beside them had become a sword about to be drawn—blindingly sharp—then just as quickly slid back into its sheath.
Their step aside was pure instinct, a reflex to dodge that terrifying battle intent and killing aura.
Clang. Clang.
The sound of hammering rang out. Quinn stood at the forge, fully absorbed as he continued to temper his flying sword.
The others couldn't help but wonder if they'd imagined it all.
Across from them, a demoness beside Zechariah Lee glanced over, surprised. "The person in your portrait looks just like that blacksmith boy over there!"
Zechariah Lee rolled up the portrait and put it away, replying coolly, "My master has searched for him a long time. He claims all his knife-dao achievements were granted by that man. Before I descended to this lower realm, my master demonstrated his blade technique, gave me this portrait, and told me to find the man in the picture and perform his knife-dao before him."
Furylo can hold his own against the Woodcutter Sage—his strength is truly extraordinary.
With a thought, he instantly sensed his flying swords—some were still stuck in the demon fire, being tempered, and he hadn’t had time to recall them.
Quinn made a snap decision to call back his flying swords. Each sword flew toward him from a distant place—still more than twenty miles away—but then he saw something strange.
His flying swords were moving fast, heading straight for him, but the distance between them was actually increasing!
Clearly, this was the work of gods and demons—creating worlds out of thin air. The space was expanding faster than the swords could fly!
Boom!
Suddenly, space shook violently—the towering mountains stopped growing, and the space stabilized.
His flying swords whistled over. Quinn raised his hand, and the swords collided with a series of crisp dings, merging into a spinning sword pill.
He breathed a sigh of relief and looked around—he could no longer see Sanghua and the others.
There were mountains everywhere, though none were especially tall—almost as if the outside world's mountains had been shrunk to a tenth their size. Quinn chipped off a piece of stone, examined it closely, then crushed it to powder.
Finally, the stone crumbled into tiny rune marks, emitting a last faint glow before scattering in the wind and disappearing completely.
As I thought, it's not real.
Quinn straightened up and looked around. These rolling mountains must have been manifested by Furylo and the Woodcutter Sage using runes—their power still isn’t enough to create truly real objects.
Suddenly, Furylo’s thunderous voice rang out from the heavens: “In a fight to the death, there are no rules! This Sand-Table World will be our battlefield. Each side sends in ten people—whichever side’s fighters walk out alive, wins! What do you say?”
'Sand-Table World?' Quinn wondered.
He looked up toward the sound and saw that Furylo, the Woodcutter Sage, and the other gods and demons now had faces so enormous, they looked like planets looming outside the sky.
So it seems the plaza has grown countless times larger, but from outside, it still looks its original size.
Quinn was astonished—such a technique was beyond imagination!
When he first arrived, he’d already observed and measured the plaza’s size.
The plaza was flanked by two palace halls of the City of Departure—one arranged for yin, the other for yang. A wide road led in from the city, up the steps, and into the plaza, which was less than thirty-one zhang wide and fifty zhang long, with steps leading to each palace.
From above, the two palace halls and the plaza together formed the Li trigram, which bred the Departure Fire.
Now, the plaza’s internal space had expanded countless times, but to the outside world it was still fifty zhang long and nearly thirty-one zhang wide, with the two palace halls still forming the Li trigram.
To the Woodcutter Sage, Furylo, and the other gods and demons, Quinn and his companions were like figures inside a tiny Sand-Table World—every move they made could be seen as clearly as lines on a palm.
Quinn narrowed his eyes. Now he had two choices: retreat to the palace edge and keep refining swords with the Departure-Demon Fire Wall, or head for the center of the Sand-Table World.
That was where the Woodcutter’s axe and Furylo’s spear were. Rather than hunting for enemies, it made sense to go straight to the place everyone knew—since others would head there too.
Anyone with sense would realize—the faster you reached the place where the axe and spear crossed, the better your chances in the fight. Getting there first meant you could set traps and formations, and wait for others to walk into them!
I’ve already refined three hundred and sixteen swords—more than enough.
Quinn sprang forward, racing toward the center of the Sand-Table World at top speed. He pushed the Stealing-Heavens Leg Art to its limit—moving as fast as a streak of light!
Boom—
He was moving faster than sound—the air in front of him burst apart like a white cloud, the mist brushing his cheeks as he shot through!
At that moment, Quinn suddenly heard thunderous booms. He looked toward the sound as figures broke the sound barrier, leaving trails of shattered clouds among the mountains.
Ring-shaped clouds slowly spread out, dazzling and spectacular.
There were nineteen clouds in all—marks left by nineteen powerful fighters, each with a body strong enough to break the sound barrier!
Clearly, they all realized at the same time that reaching the place where the axe and spear crossed would give them the upper hand.
Veins bulged on Quinn’s forehead as he realized he was actually the slowest of the twenty people in the Sand-Table World!
Even Sabrina was a shade faster than him!
These nineteen fighters—including Sabrina—were all prodigies with bodies as strong as young true gods, each cultivating arts that made them physically surpass Quinn!
For a long time, Quinn had prided himself on his speed—now, for the first time, others in his realm had surpassed him!
Suddenly, Quinn stopped and turned away. With everyone racing toward the axe and spear, that place had become the most dangerous spot. No one could outpace the others—when they arrived, all twenty would clash in a chaotic battle.
In the chaos, accidents were likely—even someone stronger could be killed in a mass attack.
So, better not to go there at all.
Just then, the nineteen figures running toward the axe and spear suddenly vanished—he couldn’t see where they’d gone.
Quinn paused, his expression grave. “No one who’s survived in High-Emperor Heaven is a fool—they all realized the same thing. Interesting. I’ve finally met worthy opponents… Well then, I won’t look for you. You can come find me!”
Suddenly, he shot off toward the edge of the Sand-Table World, where a fire wall dozens of miles high burned—the palace halls forming a wall of Departure Fire and demon fire.
After a while, the sound of hammering rang out from the Sand-Table World, echoing for miles.
Soon, Quinn was approached by the first person drawn by the sound—a graceful, alluring woman.
“All ten of the High-Emperor Heaven’s spellcasters are strong, but you’re the weakest.”
The alluring woman stared at Quinn’s back, giggling. “I can’t handle the others, so I came for you—hoping to score an early win.”
“Miss.”
Quinn turned and gave a dazzling smile. “You might have picked the wrong target.”
At that moment, Quinn suddenly heard thunderous booms. He looked toward the sound as figures broke the sound barrier, leaving trails of shattered clouds among the mountains.
Ring-shaped clouds slowly spread out, dazzling and spectacular.
There were nineteen clouds in all—marks left by nineteen powerful fighters, each with a body strong enough to break the sound barrier!
Clearly, they all realized at the same time that reaching the place where the axe and spear crossed would give them the upper hand.
Veins bulged on Quinn’s forehead as he realized he was actually the slowest of the twenty people in the Sand-Table World!
Even Sabrina was a shade faster than him!
These nineteen fighters—including Sabrina—were all prodigies with bodies as strong as young true gods, each cultivating arts that made them physically surpass Quinn!
For a long time, Quinn had prided himself on his speed—now, for the first time, others in his realm had surpassed him!
Suddenly, Quinn stopped and turned away. With everyone racing toward the axe and spear, that place had become the most dangerous spot. No one could outpace the others—when they arrived, all twenty would clash in a chaotic battle.
In the chaos, accidents were likely—even someone stronger could be killed in a mass attack.
So, better not to go there at all.
Just then, the nineteen figures running toward the axe and spear suddenly vanished—he couldn’t see where they’d gone.
Quinn paused, his expression grave. “No one who’s survived in High-Emperor Heaven is a fool—they all realized the same thing. Interesting. I’ve finally met worthy opponents… Well then, I won’t look for you. You can come find me!”
Suddenly, he shot off toward the edge of the Sand-Table World, where a fire wall dozens of miles high burned—the palace halls forming a wall of Departure Fire and demon fire.
After a while, the sound of hammering rang out from the Sand-Table World, echoing for miles.
Soon, Quinn was approached by the first person drawn by the sound—a graceful, alluring woman.
“All ten of the High-Emperor Heaven’s spellcasters are strong, but you’re the weakest.”
The alluring woman stared at Quinn’s back, giggling. “I can’t handle the others, so I came for you—hoping to score an early win.”
“Miss.”
Quinn turned and gave a dazzling smile. “You might have picked the wrong target.”