Wang Yu suddenly turned his head, and a faint streak of blood appeared belatedly on his pale face.
He rolled back, putting distance between them, and stood up with a tense expression.
The figure before him was towering like a mountain, clad in animal pelts with chunks of flesh hanging off them.
In his hand was a wide, thick broadsword, which thudded heavily onto the ground. His sunken, blood-red eyes looked like two gaping holes of crimson.
When he grinned, the two tufts of tooth-made hair curtains at his temples swayed unnervingly, making him all the more terrifying.
Wang Yu glanced at the Broken Blade in his hand and grit his teeth.
This was the Martial Arts Hall’s Smithy Treasure he had spent nearly three months earning from the blacksmith!
The youth drew his bow, his fingers adjusting the arrowheads. Only three arrows remained in the quiver.
One man and one Evil Ghost stared at each other silently, their taut bodies and eagle-sharp gazes brimming with vigilance.
The youth watched coldly.
His nose caught a revolting stench of blood. Such trash, living in this world, was a burden on ordinary people. It was every ordinary person’s duty to cleanse them—this was for the sake of the whole world.
Everyone’s weak points were the same: shoot the eyes and you go blind, slice the neck and you die, pierce the heart and you perish.
The Evil Ghost gripped the Heavy Sword, confronting the youth.
That strike just now should have smashed his skull without fail.
But the youth was too fast—he reacted instantly to the sudden attack, even drawing his sword to parry.
If he wasn’t mistaken, judging by the youth’s movements, if the sword hadn’t broken, his next move would have been a counterattack, the sword sliding against the Heavy Sword in a diagonal slash, severing the Evil Ghost’s head!
Such fierce Killing Intent! Such speed!
The Evil Ghost felt the ominous energy surge through his body and grinned excitedly, assuming a ready stance.
“Then let’s start with a simple opening ritual!”
The Evil Ghost roared, veins bulging one by one. His powerful, muscular body swung the Heavy Sword in a wide arc.
The sword fell like a mountain, but at an absurd speed, its unstoppable momentum crashing forward like a tidal wave.
But the Evil Ghost was fast, and Wang Yu’s footwork was equally incredible. Arrows were knocked to the bowstring, dodging swiftly like a wolf.
The Evil Ghost spun like a hula hoop—he just dodged.
In the midst of the fight, he stole a glance at Suiniang, whose figure was hidden in the mist, watching the battlefield intently.
After several exchanges, the Evil Ghost lost interest. With the Heavy Sword resting in his palm, both maintained a proper distance under Wang Yu’s “kite-flying” strategy.
“You’re not bad, kid. Which path do you cultivate?” the Evil Ghost boomed.
The youth replied politely, “Wang Family Martial Hall.”
The Evil Ghost frowned, confused. “What the hell is that? I asked which Immortal path you follow!”
Wang Yu sighed faintly. “Just an ordinary person.”
He didn’t understand why he always encountered superstitious people wherever he went.
The entire scene fell silent.
“Hahaha—kid, you sure know how to joke!” The Evil Ghost’s long tongue licked his lips maliciously, leaving a wet trace. “I’ll tear that sharp mouth of yours apart and let you taste it!”
His bloodshot eyes deepened in color until they resembled a full pond brimming with blood, overflowing.
He was a despicable ghost.
Relying on robbery, deception, and sneak attacks.
The Evil Ghost’s proudest skill was Killing Intent—limitless, endless Killing Intent.
That intent transformed from words and sentences into real tigers and wolves, towering mountains leaping out from his eyes to pounce forward, all to make the pitiful enemy feel the silence and terror of death.
Even the strongest cultivators would freeze under such fear for three seconds!
The youth frowned and calmly said, “Disgusting.”
The Evil Ghost’s forehead veins bulged, blue veins taut, exhaling angry foul breath.
This arrogant brat—he had probably sneak-attacked and slaughtered countless victims with that trick.
Perfect timing.
Wang Yu raised his eyes, his gaze cold and sharp as a blade. He drew the bow and fired—two arrows shot forth like thunder, aiming straight at the Evil Ghost!
The Evil Ghost was momentarily stunned.
What the hell! Why wasn’t he controlled?
Swinging the Heavy Sword, he struck the two arrows midair before they could get close—the Heavy Sword’s superiority was obvious in that moment!
Yet the Evil Ghost wasn’t happy. His anxious eyes searched for the suddenly vanished Wang Yu.
Suddenly, a silver streak like a falling star cut through the air, striking his neck with immense and terrifying force. The violent impact caused the Evil Ghost to howl in pain!
That youth actually pierced his throat with an arrow!
The Evil Ghost was both furious and angry but also somewhat relieved.
Death!
He couldn’t guard his neck; the Heavy Sword slammed down heavily. Wang Yu blocked with his arm, stifling a grunt from his throat!
Wang Yu’s speed was too fast! If he hadn’t risked rushing forward, he couldn’t have caught him! It was just a throat—what ghost would die from an arrow through the throat?
The Evil Ghost, seeing Wang Yu wounded, rejoiced and prepared to press the advantage, only to feel a sudden sharp pain!
“Ugh!”
The youth’s arm suddenly rose!
A severed head flew off with the slicing motion!
The grotesque face of the head showed a hint of confusion, life ebbing away. The Evil Ghost’s lips trembled, his heart full of bewilderment: “Why? Why did he die?”
The youth smiled coldly, long black eyelashes drooping, his voice matter-of-fact: “When someone is killed, they die.”
The Evil Ghost died with his eyes wide open, two bloody tears falling.
The Evil Ghost’s corpse crashed to the ground, leaving Suiniang speechless as she watched.
“Damn it, that old piece of junk! Didn’t even last half an hour! Damn! Things moved too fast—I got so caught up in the show I forgot to run!”
Suiniang was also frustrated.
That ghost died way too easily! Wasn’t he supposed to be about to evolve into a vengeful spirit? What a fraud!
The youth in the center looked solemnly at the Broken Blade in his hand. The quiver behind him was empty; his left arm hung unnaturally by his side, messy hair falling on his cheek.
Rarely did that irritating face show a trace of pity.
Suiniang’s thoughts began to stir.
This Killing God had no arrows or sword, was badly wounded, and yet still so fearsome—like a tiger on the plains or a dragon trapped in a creek, he would surely be harassed.
Shouldn’t she, as a Divine Disciple, assert the authority of the local top dog?
Suiniang’s head burned with excitement as she leapt forward, eager to decide how to torment this visitor.
Before she could think further, the corpse of the Evil Ghost changed drastically.
A towering golden light burst from the body, then retreated like a bird returning home. Within the Evil Ghost’s body, an unparalleled blade was born!
The sword was about a foot long, with an extremely thick and heavy deep green blade. The sword hilt and blade formed one piece, the dark edge glinting with a piercing chill—sharp beyond doubt!
In ancient times, there was a famous weapon called Jingchun, emerald green in color, known to stand against millions, able to melt away the snow of ten thousand homes with a single stroke.
This ancient legendary weapon had once been world-renowned but had also fallen into obscurity, carried by those who regarded it as ordinary.
The Evil Ghost had stumbled upon this sword by chance. Judging by its appearance, it was extraordinary, though its origins were unknown.
He had long been captivated but struggled to master it, so he cunningly used his body as a scabbard to nurture the treasure!
But before the ninety-nine cycles could pass, he lost it to a mere child.
Jingchun felt exhilarated—heroes respect heroes. The famed blade had met its master, washing away ten thousand years of frost and millennia of grime, revealing its magnificent inner brilliance.
The youth stared in surprise, gripping the sword embedded in the Evil Ghost’s spine. Jingchun emitted a crisp, clear sword cry, excitement shining through!
***
[At 16: How should I put it? You’re a little picky.
This sword… is a bit dirty.
So even ordinary people can nurture a sword like this.
You draw the sword with one hand and think.
You look regretfully at the Broken Blade in your hand, carefully place it into the sword box, and wield the new treasured sword. Its blade shines like light, imposing and awe-inspiring.
You take the sword flower.
It feels okay, but still not as handy as the blacksmith’s. You’ll make do.
“Plop—”
You’re startled to see Suiniang plop down on the ground, several uncles hurriedly coming to help her up.
She seems terribly frightened but still manages a strained smile: “Young… young hero.”
You ponder for a moment.
Oh—
Probably the guide got something wrong, or they just happened to stumble into bandits here.
She feels both fear and guilt.
You sheathe the sword and smile, “Don’t worry, it’s okay. Next time, come again.
Besides, you don’t know the way. Running into mountain bandits and robbers isn’t the worst, right?]
***
Divine Lord!
Suiniang’s face nearly split in two!
Who exactly is favored by divine grace?
Only those with the Divine Eye could recognize the brilliant radiance unleashed when the peerless treasure sword was unsheathed.
In an instant, they knew this thing was no ordinary blade, definitely tied to a great origin!
To see this sword appear in one’s lifetime was a huge stroke of fate.
But why now, of all times?
That sword really might get held against her throat!
Cold sweat poured down Suiniang’s back, and her entire ghostly body stiffened.
This person was already hard enough to deal with—armed with arrows and able to sever heads barehanded!
That overwhelming aura even knocked Suiniang off balance just by watching, yet the youth seemed unaffected. He was able to kill the Evil Ghost in a single strike at his proudest moment.
His speed, agility, strength, and mental resilience combined were flawless.
It was as if he wielded some strange secret technique. How on earth did he kill the Evil Ghost with just those arrows? It was a complete mystery!
Suiniang nervously covered her small drum as the youth wiped the treasured sword with a cloth, sitting cross-legged.
Thankfully, this cultivator was crazy enough to believe she hadn’t done it on purpose—otherwise, she’d be dead.
Suiniang felt a mix of emotions: gratitude for escaping death, wariness of the youth’s unstable mind, and complete bafflement.
How does one fall into a trap only to obtain a peerless treasure sword? Does that make sense?
Suddenly, Suiniang thought of another ghost.
This ghost was clad head-to-toe in heavy armor, said to have fused with a divine turtle upon becoming a ghost, a nearly thousand-year-old beast even the top leader couldn’t subdue.
Wang Yu? Merely mediocre!
Suiniang made her decision—next ghost, she’d find him!