"Die!"
"Sending you to the afterlife!"
Ling Zhantian and Hong Potian both wore cold, murderous expressions. Their killing intent was palpable as they unleashed their full power, holding nothing back—they fully intended to kill Ian Song right here.
Inside the opposite private box, Brandon Nangong suddenly stood up, eyes locked onto the void ahead. The other young nobles all tensed, because they could see Ian Song was in extreme danger—he might lose his life in the very next moment.
Vergil Beigong saw this scene and finally allowed a smile to form at the corners of his mouth, though he felt a bit regretful inside—this kid was just going to die like that.
"Heh, now things are finally getting interesting. Looks like it's worth it for me to show some real skill!"
At that moment, trapped in a desperate situation, Ian Song suddenly laughed. The plain spirit sword in his hand erupted with a mysterious, indescribable aura, instantly spreading out and dissolving the frozen void that had locked down Ling Zhantian and Hong Potian's qi and momentum.
Boom!
The pair's combined attack was suddenly blocked by something, freezing ten centimeters in front of Ian Song and unable to advance even a bit further.
Skyless!!!
The first move of the Heavenbreaker Sword Canon!
Sword-qi—endless sword-qi erupted from the void, blanketing the sky in a dense, overwhelming tide. Each strand radiated a terrifying aura, enough to make ordinary Fusion cultivators tremble in fear.
"Retreat!"
Ling Zhantian shouted, his body yanked backward as if pulled by an invisible giant hand. Hong Potian shot straight upward, trying to break through the ceiling and escape, while the other two guards immediately grabbed Vergil Beigong and flew out the window.
"Too late!"
Ian Song softly uttered two words. Hundreds of strands of sword-qi appeared around Hong Potian and Ling Zhantian.
Each strand of sword-qi was as powerful as an early Fusion cultivator.
Hundreds of sword-qi strands attacked at once, as if hundreds of early Fusion experts were joining forces.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The two frantically poured true essence into their Tiger King Armor, hoping to withstand the terrifying sword-qi, while swinging their weapons wildly to block the attacks.
Like raindrops pounding on banana leaves, strand after strand of sword-qi hammered relentlessly into their bodies.
They lasted less than half a second.
With a crisp crack, the Tiger King Armor could no longer withstand the barrage. Its glow faded and shattered, and even more sword-qi shot through the air, instantly turning the two mid-Fusion experts into human pincushions.
Boom! Boom!
The next moment, the eyes of the two mid-Fusion cultivators went blank. Their bodies collapsed to the ground, pouring out blood in great streams.
"Dead?"
"Ling Zhantian and Hong Potian just died like that?"
Some of the cultivators who had been secretly watching the fight saw the two fall dead and couldn't accept it—a late Soul-Split cultivator killing two mid-Fusion experts in a single move was just too unbelievable.
"Hahaha! I've made up my mind—I'm definitely becoming friends with Ian Song!" Brandon Nangong suddenly burst out laughing.
Hearing his laughter, the other young nobles finally snapped out of their shock, mouths still hanging open.
But their eyes were still filled with a lingering shock.
Inside the small teahouse.
Hannah Murong felt the surge of terrifying sword-qi from the Purple Immortal Pavilion, her face turning slightly pale. "Grandpa, what happened in the Purple Immortal Pavilion? Is Young Master Song all right?"
"He's perfectly fine—it's those two mid-Fusion guys who got killed by him!" the old man grumbled, secretly cursing Ian Song as a freak. It seemed even in his youth, he hadn't been this monstrous. Where had this kid even come from?
Inside the Purple Immortal Pavilion.
Ian Song glanced indifferently at the corpses, reached out to grab their weapons and Storage Rings, then stepped out the window and floated in mid-air, smiling at Vergil Beigong several hundred meters away.
"Young Lord Beigong, shall we continue?"
Upon hearing this, Vergil Beigong's face cycled from green to red to iron blue, then back again—just like a Sichuan opera face-change. It was quite a sight.
"Young master, this man's strength is unfathomable. We're probably no match for him!" one Thunder God Sect guard transmitted urgently.
"That's right, young master. You're fine porcelain, he's a broken stone. There's no need to go head-to-head with him. After today, there'll be plenty of ways to deal with him!" another guard quickly advised, afraid Vergil Beigong would order them to throw their lives away against Ian Song.
Although they were Vergil Beigong's guards, they weren't about to throw their lives away just because of his orders—if they could avoid fighting, all the better.
Vergil Beigong shot them a cold glare, making both tense up inside, but in the end, he didn't order them to attack Ian Song.
He wasn't stupid—if even Ling Zhantian and Hong Potian couldn't beat Ian Song, his two guards teaming up definitely wouldn't stand a chance. If he kept pushing, he'd only embarrass himself further.
"Very good, Ian Song. You're the first person who's ever made me suffer a loss. I'll remember this favor. We're leaving!"
With that, Vergil Beigong turned into a streak of light and shot away, his two guards following right behind.
"Haha, who would've thought even Vergil Beigong knows when to back down! Brother Song, I'm impressed!" Brandon Nangong flew over from the teahouse across the street, beaming as he congratulated Ian Song.
"Nice to meet you, Brother Nangong!" Ian Song smiled and cupped his fists in greeting.
"Brother Song, I have a few friends who'd love to meet you. Would you do us the honor?" Brandon Nangong asked again.
"Sure!"
Ian Song didn't refuse, following Brandon Nangong into a luxurious private box at a nearby restaurant.