On the border of Southvale Province in late October, the sunlight was exceptionally bright, illuminating a cloudless sky. Occasionally, two or three clouds drifted at low altitude, only to be shattered and dispersed.
Boom!
A gigantic crystalline palm, gleaming like diamond and glass, slowly clenched, distorting the air itself... The palm glowed with magma-like crimson, boiling within, yet its surface was as tranquil as a vast river or sea—majestic, unmatched.
"Andrew Han is making his move himself!"
"What kind of movement technique is this? He crosses kilometers in a flash, trailing a sonic boom and a pressure wave that leaves a visible path, slowly expanding outward. Even meteors in the sky wouldn't compare."
"No more chatting—focus on killing the enemy."
"Right, you're absolutely right. But Andrew Han's aura is truly ferocious and unparalleled. If I had to face him, I'd probably be scared out of my wits."
They stopped watching and turned to fight.
This was an overwhelming sweep. Moreover, Andrew Han’s eruption in midair overshadowed the entire sky, attracting only a handful of gazes.
Peerless Paragon, the contemporary prodigy, Andrew Han, who always stands at the very center of the front lines—when he acts, it’s like mountains shaking and earth shattering. In an instant, he seized three ferocious and bizarre Great-Class Demons, stunning the entire battlefield.
Unmatched presence, dominating all directions.
Undisputed leader of the young generation in Sinovera’s Martial Arts World!
"Hmm."
Andrew Han stood a hundred meters above ground, his azure robe billowing in the wind.
"Just three Great-Class Demons, nothing more."
Andrew's face was indifferent, his eyes shimmering with light. His radiant giant palm twitched a few times, tossing down the lifeless bodies of three enormous pythons—their monstrous forms torn apart, their heads utterly crushed.
He had just slapped them all to death!
But this was only the beginning. Andrew Han took half a step forward.
Boom!
Within a hundred meters, the air churned, boiling into rippling waves. Andrew Han streaked across the sky like a blazing meteor, his hand seals shifting ceaselessly, forming living marks in the air.
Pinnacle martial arts—Wind Blade, Frost Sword.
This technique is even more profound than Three-Thousand Flowing Winds; it has not yet reached Unity Mastery, only barely approaching fusion... First comes mastery, then Unity—mastery excavates one’s own potential, while Unity draws on the vast power of heaven and earth.
Unity is weaker than true fusion, but each situation must be analyzed specifically.
"So you Specters have turned intangible, hiding underground?"
"As of today, all Demons and Specters are forbidden on Sinoveran soil—you cannot hide!" Andrew Han stands with hands behind his back, his shout thunderous.
His clear palms join, forming a seal brimming with infinite profundity. He seems to be seated atop the Celestial Palace in the clouds, enthroned in gold, wielding the jade seal, commanding the heavens and earth, stirring air and dust for a thousand meters around.
Soil, shattered stone, and the omnipresent air all begin to swirl, forming a vast vortex.
Immediately after—
He presses the seal downward.
In an instant, the sound of cracking echoes continuously, as if a massive vortex of frost descends—a hundred-meter-wide river of cold appears behind Andrew Han, then fractures inch by inch, transforming into Wind Blade, Frost Sword.
"Such a colossal vortex?"
"Its momentum is so vast—could it be the legendary pinnacle martial art? But Andrew Han stands high above, with no Demons or Specters nearby—why unleash a pinnacle technique?"
Some martial practitioners are bewildered, unable to grasp Andrew Han’s intent.
But as their thoughts race, they all understand... There must be Sect-Class Specters, shifting between form and formlessness, hiding deep underground or within mountains. Ordinary Martial Lords can do nothing against them.
Even Martial Lords cannot handle them; the Titled Sequence is helpless as well.
These Sect-Class Specters glare with ferocious ghost eyes, concealed a hundred meters deep. Mere shockwaves cannot kill them from afar.
If you dig into the earth, the alert Sect-Class Specters will simply shift position and escape.
But in front of Andrew Han, they are nothing but paper tigers.
From the day he set foot on the martial path, Andrew Han has remained humble, never arrogant. The three pinnacle martial arts Miles Ning entrusted to him have long since been mastered.
It happens to be October.
To deal with this situation, Wind Blade, Frost Sword is unleashed.
"Slash!"
Andrew Han’s palms rotate and then press down violently; the radiance surges, nearly eclipsing the sunlight above.
Blades and swords erupt, slashing toward the Specters hidden underground!
A thousand horses fall silent; all heaven and earth is hushed!
The force covers the ends of the earth; gravity and inertia combine, making every Wind Blade, Frost Sword carry a cloud-piercing, wind-churning terror. All sound vanishes, every image freezes—blades and swords descend in unison, like a meteor shower from the heavens.
And that’s not all.
The vortex-split Wind Blade, Frost Sword not only cleaves underground, but sweeps violently in all directions like crashing waves.
"Hiss!"
Some Martial Lords gasp in fright, nearly leaping into the air to dodge... Martial Generals pale, thinking they’ll die beneath the overwhelming blades and swords... Even Martial Practitioners break into cold sweat, frozen in place, nearly fainting.
Clearly, they worried too much.
The countless blades and swords—sharp and agile—skirt around the martial practitioners, cleansing every Demon and Specter within a kilometer.
All thanks to Inspiration!
Only an indestructible consciousness and an impregnable will can forge Inspiration. With Andrew Han’s now crystal-diamond Inspiration, his control is precise down to the finest detail.
No matter how overwhelming the force, it bends to his will!
This is the terror of Inspiration... Meanwhile, a thousand blades and swords veil the clouds, piercing the earth with ease, slaughtering the terrified, howling Sect-Class Specters.
If one sword can’t kill, then two or three will.
If one blade can’t cleave, then two or three will.
"Today, I, Andrew Han, will exterminate Demons and slaughter Specters." His face is cold and stern, his gaze brewing killing intent.
Boom!