Quinn withdrew his head and walked into the next room. Inside sat a seductive woman, watching the Sword Hall Master across the way. Hearing Quinn's footsteps, she turned, her breath fragrant as orchids, and said softly, "Young master, your swordsmanship is extraordinary—you even wounded the Sword Hall's sword fanatic. I am truly impressed. My body is delicate, not as strong as his, so I beg you to go easy on me."
Quinn blinked. "Sister, I'm only eleven—I'll turn twelve this autumn. I don't understand what you're talking about."
The woman's expression froze, then she burst out laughing. "I almost mistook you for one of those filthy men outside and thought I could enchant you. I forgot you're still young, innocent in matters between men and women. I'm the Madam of Velvet Hall, usually living in the pleasure quarters, well-versed in affairs of the heart. I planned to use my charm arts to embarrass you, but you're just a child and have already defeated so many Hall Masters—I'm impressed. For this room, I won't compete in swordsmanship or boxing. Instead, let's test our movement skills."
She took out a rouge box, gently opened it, and a captivating fragrance filled the air. Smiling, she said, "This is my favorite cardamom rouge. You and I will stain our fingertips, then compete in movement in this room—only allowed to smear rouge on each other's faces. Whoever ends up with the most marks loses. What do you say?"
Quinn nodded and grinned sweetly. "Okay, but Sister, you'll have to go easy on me."
"Sweet talker!"
Madam of Velvet Hall's heart bloomed with delight. She shot him a glance, stained her ten jade-like fingers with rouge, and handed the box to Quinn, who also reddened his fingertips.
Suddenly, Madam of Velvet Hall moved—her steps lithe as a swimming serpent. Her yuanqi transformed into a giant snake tail that whipped around and coiled tightly around Quinn's legs.
Quinn was startled. He recognized this movement skill—from a match at Grandma Temple, he had once fought a girl who used it. Her yuanqi turned into a giant snake, winding around him as she slithered up and down his body, until he used Thousand-Hand Buddha to beat her black and blue.
"Could that girl be this Hall Master's disciple?"
Quinn exploded with force from both feet, breaking free before Madam of Velvet Hall could coil around him. She chuckled softly, suddenly slithered up the wall, her snake tail wrapped around the beam, and attacked with exquisitely nimble fingers.
Her arms moved like spirit serpents, bending at will, and her ten fingers seemed like ten little snakes. Strangely, her jade-like fingers could lengthen and shorten at will—her arms, too, could stretch and retract!
Then Quinn witnessed something stranger still—Madam of Velvet Hall's whole body grew slender and long, boneless and soft, dangling from the ceiling like a woman-python!
Quinn changed his footwork, gliding across the floor like a dragon and a snake, while Madam of Velvet Hall slithered nimbly along the ceiling, attacking again and again, head down and feet up.
Suddenly, Quinn's yuanqi erupted—a blue dragon coiled around him, its claws gripping the wooden walls. Unleashing his movement skills, he darted across the walls and ceiling, switching to offense and unleashing Thousand-Hand Buddha in a wild assault on Madam of Velvet Hall.
In the cramped room, the two moved like wind and lightning, darting up, down, left, and right. Neither floor nor ceiling slowed them; it was as if a dragon and a snake were fighting, entwining, and dancing—a truly eerie sight.
Suddenly, Quinn's fingers brushed Madam of Velvet Hall's face, leaving four red prints. Flustered, she grew anxious, but Quinn abruptly opened his palm—thunder exploded, blasting her senseless and dazed.
When she finally came to, her face was completely smeared with rouge.
"Enough, enough!"
Madam of Velvet Hall slid down from the ceiling, waving her hand. "Enough, I lost. My makeup's ruined. Your movement is too strange, your footwork too tricky—I can't catch you or entangle you."
Quinn slid down as well, smiling. "Thank you for letting me win, Sister."
Seeing his youthful, rosy-cheeked face, Madam of Velvet Hall couldn't resist—she kissed him on the cheek and laughed, "There, two more rouge marks for you. Now it doesn't look like I lost too badly."
Quinn's face instantly turned red, his heart pounding like a startled deer. He staggered out of the room, dazed.
Madam of Velvet Hall giggled. "If I'd known that would beat you, I'd have kissed you from the start! If you ever get into trouble, just go to any brothel and tell the girls you're looking for Serena Vale—they'll bring you to me!"
At the next room's door, Quinn paused for a moment, finally calming his mind. He wiped the lip print from his face and stepped inside, thinking, "No wonder Grandpa Blind says women are all demons—one kiss almost stole my heart..."
Inside was a female butcher, her face fierce—more menacing than Butcher himself. She held a pig-killing knife, sharpening it with a bone toothpick clenched in her teeth.
Quinn had barely entered when the butcher woman attacked without a word. Knife-light flooded the small room, wind howled, and every slash was aimed to disembowel—utterly ruthless!
Quinn hurriedly drew his own pig-killing knife to block—clang, clang, clang! The blows rang out like pearls falling on a jade plate!
They broke apart and spun around, each switching their grip—the butcher woman twirled her knives and reversed her hold, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Good knife art!" she praised.
Quinn reversed his own grip on the pig-killing knife, caution in his voice. "Big Sister, now that we're both holding the knives this way, the next move will be a killing blow. Knives are merciless—how about we use our hands as knives and stop short instead?"
The butcher woman tossed her pig-killing knife, embedding it in the wall. She laughed, "That's right—reverse grip is for killing. If I killed you, the Cult Mistress would be furious and have my head. Let's fight empty-handed, knife against hand!"
Quinn spun his yuanqi, swirling the pig-killing knife back into its sheath behind him. He shook his hands—flames erupted, forming twin fire blades.
The butcher woman's palms vibrated, sharp edges appearing—her deadly White Tiger yuanqi formed blade-like hands. She slashed at the air, hissing, and lunged at Quinn. "Young master, your fire blades will lose out. White Tiger yuanqi is far sharper!"
Quinn's eyes flashed. The fire streaming from his palms flowed down to his forearms, mimicking the reverse grip of a knife.
Pig-Killing Saber Technique, Third Form—Raise the Blade and Break the Ban!
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The two were nearly body to body, feet constantly shifting, closing in to strike. They hardly used their eyes—only sensed each other's movements through transmitted force, reacting instantly to block or attack.
Reverse grip means fighting up close—tight, short moves, fast slashes, vicious angles!
This is the highest level of Battle Skill combat—no matter your spell or divine art, if a Battle Skill expert gets this close, you're as good as dead!
All six hundred and forty of Quinn's muscles twitched and pulsed beneath his skin, giving him maximum explosive power at the shortest distance!
In just a few moments, both Quinn and the butcher woman were drenched in sweat. Using so many muscles in such a short time, tracking each other's movements and defending against the deadliest attacks, was as exhausting as a fierce battle.
Suddenly, Quinn used his hand as a blade, slipping through a gap in her defense—his stance low, blade raised—and sliced her greasy butcher's apron clean in two.
The butcher woman stepped back, dispersing the White Tiger yuanqi from her hands. She took off her now two-piece apron and tossed it aside, laughing heartily, "I lost, you win! Your saber technique is good. If you can't finish all three hundred and sixty rooms, you could come work with me—pig slaughtering pays the bills!"
Quinn liked the burly big sister and smiled, "I can also refine medicine. I don't have to slaughter pigs—I could be a healer and help people instead."
The butcher woman spat out her toothpick bone and sneered, "A healer? If you botch the job and kill someone, you'll lose everything in a lawsuit! Pig slaughter is safer—guaranteed profit. Work with me, and you'll eat and drink well!"
Quinn's head spun. He hurried out, mumbling, "Sure, sure, but I'm still just a kid..."
"Young master!"
The butcher woman, Beryl Cross, raised her hand, pulled two pig-killing knives from the wall, and called after him, speaking earnestly: "When you go back, tell the Cult Mistress that Beryl Cross still misses her and often remembers her kindness."
Quinn nodded.
Beryl Cross walked downstairs into the courtyard. Suddenly, there was a loud crash—the wall of the wooden building exploded outward. The Snake Hall Master crashed headfirst into the ground, embedded in the earth, shattering the stone pavement.
Beryl hurried over to pull the Snake Hall Master out, but another crash sounded—a figure tumbled from the broken wall, smacking into the opposite wall.
Bang—
With another loud crash, the Divination Hall Master burst through the wall. Before they landed, a demonic voice echoed from inside: "Prajna, Prajna Samaya!"
Violent tremors followed, and the Trade Hall Master flew out right behind.
Beryl Cross pulled the Snake Hall Master free, looked up, and murmured, "Young Master Quinn is done warming up—now he's getting serious..."