Quinn Shepherd’s hair stood on end. Instinctively, he raised his hand to grab the spirit sword, but pain stabbed through his palm as the blade cut into him.
"Quinn..."
Granny Sue couldn’t help but call out, but the Village Chief shot her a glare, stopping her from saying more.
Quinn gripped the spirit sword, which writhed in his palm, carving more wounds into his flesh until his hand was a bloody mess. His yuanqi surged, protecting his hand from being severed by the blade.
But in the next instant, a third spirit sword broke from the line, followed by a fourth, then a fifth!
Miles Everfall’s eyes flickered—victory was assured. Quinn was younger, and reaching this level was already impressive, but he only had two hands. How many swords could he possibly catch?
Suddenly, Miles’ pupils shrank. Quinn’s hands snatched sword after sword, as if he’d grown dozens of arms, grabbing every spirit sword within reach!
Before the swords could even strike, Quinn caught each by its hilt!
Thunder Chant Eight‑Form, Eighth Form—Thousand‑Hand Buddha!
Miles’ expression shifted slightly. The yuanqi threads quivered, making the spirit swords in Quinn’s hands tremble violently, nearly breaking free. At the same time, several other swords shot toward Quinn’s eyes and throat!
At this moment, Quinn gripped the hilts of five spirit swords, but seven more remained. These seven swords spun through the air, whirring like tops, aiming to bore through his skull and gouge a hole in his throat!
Granny Sue couldn’t bear to watch. Suddenly, Quinn roared, and an immense surge of yuanqi erupted from his body, whipping his butcher knife from his back and chopping down.
Clang—
All seven swords were nearly severed at once, dropping to the ground together!
"Such a thick yuanqi thread!"
Miles was shocked. Quinn’s sudden strike had caught him completely off guard, and the thickness of Quinn’s yuanqi thread was downright terrifying—the power contained in that blade was simply absurd!
And that butcher knife was unbelievably sharp—far sharper and tougher than any spirit weapon.
With Quinn’s overwhelming strength and the razor-sharp butcher knife, cutting through seven spirit swords was effortless!
Before Miles could recover from his shock, Quinn suddenly flicked his wrist and hurled the five captured spirit swords straight at him. The swords sliced through the air with a shrill whistle, their speed unimaginable.
But Miles only smiled, raising his hand as yuanqi threads lashed out to seize the five blades. At the same time, more spirit swords flew from his sword pouch.
Miles’ sword pouch seemed small, unlikely to hold much, yet spirit swords kept flying out one after another—strangely uncanny.
Unexpectedly, as Miles’ yuanqi threads wrapped around the five incoming swords, his expression changed dramatically—Quinn’s terrifying yuanqi was hidden inside the sword bodies, surging and overwhelming. Before Miles’ threads could seize the blades, they were shattered!
Miles reacted quickly; the spirit swords flying from his pouch immediately intercepted the five incoming blades.
At the same time, Quinn charged forward. Miles instantly pointed behind him, sending yet another spirit sword shooting toward Quinn!
Quinn uttered a strange, brief sound—fleeting, yet saturated with an eerie, sinister melody. As he formed a delicate finger-flower seal, from more than a zhang away, he pressed out a palm!
"Samo-ye!"
Miles only felt Quinn’s palm wind brush past him, seemingly powerless. He focused on blocking the five spirit swords—when suddenly, his soul was torn from his body and sucked straight into Quinn’s palm. Panic seized him as his very soul scattered.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Five crisp impacts rang out—without Miles’ control, the spirit swords pierced his body in rapid succession, lifting him high and flinging him backward.
Boom—
The pillar at the center of the village, draped with the butcher shop’s flag, trembled. Miles Everfall’s corpse hung from it, head drooping, utterly still.
Blood still flowed from Quinn’s palm. Suddenly, he clenched his fist, the wet squelch echoing as Miles’ soul was crushed within his grasp.
Heavenly Demon Freedom Seal—adept at annihilating souls.
Quinn turned to Granny Sue, smiling. “Granny, I won.”
Granny Sue finally relaxed, then immediately exploded in anger. “Brat, you wrecked your hand—just wait, I’ll beat you! And don’t smear blood on yourself—these new clothes I made for you, if you stain them, I’ll beat you even harder!”
The Village Chief’s gaze grew deep as he looked at Elias Mornwind seated before him. "Elias, your disciple is defeated. Will you dress him in a burial shroud and lay him in a coffin?"
Elias Mornwind looked up at Miles’ body hanging on the pillar and shook his head. “I’ll take his corpse home and bury him properly. But this young man—clearly possesses profound cultivation, yet resorts to demonic techniques and demonic sound. Such underhanded methods disgust me.”
He was referring to Quinn’s killing blow—the Heavenly Demon Freedom Seal. Though he’d never seen such a seal, Quinn’s chant was unmistakably demonic, so it was clearly a demonic art.
He could tell Quinn’s cultivation was vast and deep, far greater than Miles’, but it seemed he hadn’t faced many true life-and-death trials, so he couldn’t fully unleash his strength.
To win with demonic arts, in his view, was merely trickery—something contemptible.
The Village Chief’s eyes flickered. He had no idea where Quinn had learned such a demonic technique—dragging an enemy’s soul out and crushing it was truly sinister.
Of all the villagers, only Granny Sue hailed from an orthodox demonic sect. Could she have taught Quinn?
The Village Chief spoke softly, “Quinn, destroying a soul harms the heavenly balance. Use such methods sparingly.”
Quinn nodded quickly.
The Village Chief looked at Elias Mornwind across from him. “There are still eleven coffins left empty.”
Elias lowered his eyes. “Since the coffins and shrouds are prepared, they should be put to use.”
The Village Chief said, “Please.”
Elias rose. “Please.”
The River Lee Water-Dragon Formation roared to life. The ten River Lee experts behind Elias unleashed their auras, linking as one with his.
Whoosh—
River water surged, mist billowed, and suddenly, a mighty river appeared within tiny Oldridge Village, waves crashing sky-high!
This flowing water was none other than the River Lee of the Great Ruins’ southern frontier!
Elias Mornwind and the ten River Lee experts stood atop the surging River Lee. Countless flying swords darted within the waters, silver flashes darting like tiny fish.
River Lee Sect was famed for its sword arts—their techniques ranked among the best in the Southern Frontier. With Elias and his ten experts unleashing the Water-Dragon Formation, the number of flying swords deployed was beyond imagination!
When Granny Sue fought the Five Elders, the leader Ian Frost’s sword pill held 6,842 swords—already a terrifying number.
But now, the Water-Dragon Formation contained ten times as many swords as Ian Frost’s sword pill!
Tens of thousands of flying swords formed a dragon in the water—a silver dragon, its body streaming with sword-light, each blade in constant motion, ready to unleash a storm!
Such a terrifying sword array—Quinn had never seen, nor even imagined, anything like it!
If the sword formation struck, it could easily annihilate Oldridge Village!
The Village Chief still reclined on his stretcher, expression unchanged before the terrifying sword formation. He softly called, "Blind Grandpa."
Grandpa Blind lifted his face, as if studying the mysteries of the River Lee Water-Dragon Formation—though his eye sockets were empty, how could he truly see?
Countless swords shrieked, the silver dragon unleashing its fury, sweeping toward Oldridge Village like a storm!
Grandpa Blind raised his bamboo staff and pointed at the torrent of sword-light, singing softly, "I have the Dragon-Slaying Art—today, I break River Lee!"
Clang.
A clear collision rang out, drowning the swords’ howls. The silver dragon froze midair, then shattered with a crash—countless swords rained down, stabbing into the earth.
Grandpa Blind flicked his bamboo staff, lifting the river itself. The water of River Lee collapsed, unable to hold its shape, and sheets of water poured from the sky.
Still singing, Grandpa Blind strode atop the water, never touching its surface. His staff flicked here and there—one River Lee expert was struck, his brow bursting as the staff tip pierced out his skull.
Another tried to block, but the bamboo staff pierced his palm, then his chest.
Grandpa Blind walked from the river’s head to its tail, bodies falling behind him. He faced Elias Mornwind—at that instant, Quinn couldn’t even see how many times they clashed or what divine arts they used.
Elias Mornwind landed, taking two steps forward.
Grandpa Blind’s chant—“Today I break River Lee”—had barely left his lips, the sound of ‘Lee’ still lingering.
Elias Mornwind spoke, “Blind Grandpa, I know who you are. I never expected you’d hide here, or that you’d retain such power after losing your eyes!”
After speaking, Elias’ face turned pale. He sat before the Village Chief and said softly, “Our River Lee Sword Sect lives by the river—our custom is water burial. Our dead must not touch earth. Please, brother, grant us this.”
The Village Chief nodded gently. “Don’t worry—the river is right outside the gate.”
“To witness the Divine Spear—death holds no regret!”
Elias Mornwind breathed his last, passing with a smile.
Quinn circled behind him and jumped—Elias’ skull had been pierced through, leaving a gaping wound.