Chapter 26
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Chapter 26: Bloodhand Butcher
“Waiter, where’s the beast meat I ordered? Why the delay?” A man slammed his fist on the table, his booming voice echoing through the tavern and drawing the attention of everyone present.
“Sir, it’s coming right away, right away!” The waiter bowed repeatedly, his voice trembling as he tried to placate the cultivator’s rising anger.
In the cultivation world, taverns served beast meat and spiritual wine to cultivators, while the waiters were mere mortals. Offending a cultivator could mean losing one’s job—or worse, one’s life. Thus, the waiter had no choice but to grovel and appease.
Such was the way of the cultivation world. This was its true nature.
Ming He sat by the window on the tavern’s second floor, her eyes flickering with a faint glimmer as she observed the scene. It was all too familiar, wasn’t it?
She shifted her gaze back to the spot she had been watching earlier.
Beside the tavern stood a small tea stall, its old grass canopy tattered, its wooden boards weathered and cracked. A couple of broken benches and a rusted tea kettle completed the humble setup. The stall was run by an elderly couple, their breaths heavy and their auras muddled—clear signs that they were ordinary mortals who had never stepped onto the path of cultivation.
The tea stall, nestled beside the grand tavern, sold only bitter tea meant to quench thirst and cool the body. Its lack of customers was hardly surprising.
At this hour, with the sun high in the sky and the city bustling with activity, the tavern was packed to the brim. Yet, the tea stall remained eerily quiet, with only one patron seated there.
Ming He’s attention was fixed on that patron.
The man wore a simple woven hat that obscured his face, his unkempt black hair tied haphazardly with a wooden twig. He sat on one of the broken benches, sipping tea from a wooden bowl with deliberate slowness. His aura was unremarkable, his presence utterly ordinary—a middle-aged man who seemed to be nothing more than a laborer struggling to make ends meet.
Who would have guessed that this unassuming man, who could easily vanish into a crowd, was the infamous Bloodhand Butcher?
A cold-blooded cultivator who killed without hesitation, slaughtering both cultivators and mortals on a whim. His blood-stained dagger had claimed countless innocent lives, including the daughter of the Zhenwu Escort. It was this very crime that had led Ming He to take on the task of hunting him down.
How could someone at the Spirit Guiding Sixth Level conceal their cultivation and the aura of bloodlust so thoroughly? If she hadn’t confirmed it repeatedly, she might have missed him entirely. What kind of secret technique was this?
No wonder he had managed to evade the searches and pursuits of sect elders time and time again.
Ming He kept her hand on her sword, her gaze fixed on him, though she had no intention of acting just yet. Confidence was one thing; recklessness was another. The two were never the same.
If she were to strike, it would have to be with careful planning. And besides… she wasn’t the only one hunting the Bloodhand Butcher.
Ming He tilted her head back and took a swig of spiritual wine, the fiery liquid burning her throat as it went down. She ignored the discomfort, focusing instead on the faint surge of spiritual energy within her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a young man nearby, his aura probing the surroundings.
The young man, around twenty years old, wore white robes and had his hair tied back neatly. A long sword rested on his back. He stood beneath a towering tree not far from the tea stall, his posture straight and his gaze sharp. His eyes were locked on the middle-aged man at the tea stall, his murderous intent unmistakable.
“Clang—”
The clear ring of a sword being drawn echoed through the air. In an instant, the young man leaped forward from beneath the tree, his movements swift and precise under the blazing sun. The distance between the tree and the tea stall was only a few hundred meters, and with the aid of spiritual energy, he closed the gap in mere moments.
He pointed the tip of his sword at the rough-looking man and declared boldly, “You are the Bloodhand Butcher?”
Bloodhand Butcher?
The nearby cultivators, who had noticed the young man’s sudden movement, turned their attention to him. When they heard him accuse the rough man of being the infamous murderer, a ripple of shock spread through the crowd.
Some fled in panic, fearing for their lives, while others, confident in their own strength, leaned against the tavern to watch quietly, much like Ming He. A few others edged closer to the tea stall, their movements cautious but deliberate—likely disciples from other sects who had also taken on the task of hunting the Bloodhand Butcher.
The crowd’s reactions varied, but the rough man seemed entirely unfazed. He paid no heed to the sword pointed at him, continuing to sip his tea with calm indifference.
“Bloodhand Butcher, do you still dare to struggle in the face of death?” the young man sneered, his sword swirling with sword energy that carried a hidden force. “Remember my name—I am Zhang Lintian, an inner sect disciple of Qing Shan Sect.”
“I don’t care about the names of the dead,” the rough man replied coldly, his movements almost imperceptible. In the blink of an eye, the young man who had just introduced himself as Zhang Lintian was sent flying backward, crashing into the tree where he had stood moments before.
All of this happened in a single move, in the span of a heartbeat.
The crowd fell silent for a moment, before erupting into a chorus of gasps and exclamations.
“What did the Bloodhand Butcher do? Why did that cultivator fall so quickly?”
“I don’t know; I couldn’t see clearly either.”
“He made a single strike,” someone remarked, observing the Bloodhand Butcher’s motionless right hand, which was held like a blade. The depth of his swordsmanship was evident—this was no mere result of killing many.
“Zhang Lintian is renowned among the inner sect disciples of Qing Shan Sect. His cultivation is at the Spirit Guiding Sixth Level, but his strength far surpasses that. Yet even he was defeated in a single move!”
“The Bloodhand Butcher has grown stronger!” This realization weighed heavily on the hearts of the cultivators present, suffocating them with dread.
In the cultivation world, the law of the jungle prevailed, yet few killed as capriciously as the Bloodhand Butcher. Beyond survival of the fittest, cultivators also upheld principles of justice and staying true to their essence.
The Bloodhand Butcher’s actions defied the unwritten rules of the cultivation world. With such power to act ruthlessly, who wouldn’t tremble in fear?
But fear was not the only emotion—anger burned alongside it.
This was why the daughter of Zhenwu Escort had boldly taken action, and even after her death, many had tried to seek justice, though all had failed.
At the tea stall, the Bloodhand Butcher drained the last sip of tea from his bowl and cast a disdainful glance at the elderly couple huddled in the corner. With a flick of his hand, he sent a blade of knife energy toward them before turning to finish off Zhang Lintian, who still lay incapacitated on the ground.
Ming He, seated by the window on the second floor, watched with cold eyes. She waved her hand, releasing a burst of sword energy that intercepted the deadly knife energy mid-air. The two forces collided, erupting in a violent clash that overturned the rusty tea kettle, spilling boiling brown tea across the ground and toppling the broken bench.
The elderly couple trembled, shrinking further into the corner, their eyes filled with terror.
“Boom—”
A blue figure descended gracefully from the second floor, passing through the gauzy window. Seeing her sword energy neutralize the Bloodhand Butcher’s attack, Ming He felt a flicker of relief.
She glanced at the elderly couple, her gaze lingering on the spilled tea and the overturned bench before turning back to Zhang Lintian.
He lay on the ground, coughing up blood, struggling to rise but unable to do so. The Bloodhand Butcher stood over him, wielding a blood-stained dagger, its tip aimed directly at Zhang Lintian. His eyes gleamed with arrogance and triumph, as though he held the world in his grasp.
“Bloodhand Butcher, truly living up to your reputation,” Ming He called out, drawing his attention. Her right hand rested on the hilt of her white long sword as she approached slowly, her steps unhurried, her demeanor calm and composed.
The Bloodhand Butcher shifted his focus to her. Whether he felt no urgency or underestimated her, he abandoned his earlier ruthlessness and turned to face Ming He. “Another sect disciple?”
He slowly removed his hat, revealing a sharp chin and a face etched with cruelty, his lips curling into a sinister smile. “Isn’t life worth living?”
“Life is certainly worth living,” Ming He replied, tightening her grip on her sword but not drawing it. Her aura condensed into a single point, her posture relaxed yet her focus razor-sharp.
Spirit Guiding Sixth Level, Bloodhand Butcher—she knew earning five hundred contribution points wouldn’t be easy. One misstep could cost her life.
“If life is worth living, why seek death?” The Bloodhand Butcher narrowed his eyes at her, dismissing her as merely a Spirit Guiding Fourth Level cultivator. Could she truly pose a threat?
Impossible!
The Bloodhand Butcher scoffed at the thought. Even inner sect disciples at the Spirit Guiding Eighth Level had fallen to his blade. This girl before him? She stood no chance.
With that, he raised his blood-stained dagger and charged forward, swinging it down with devastating force. The blade cut through the air like a thunderbolt, swift and merciless.
This was a city near Liu Yun Sect, and it was possible that an elder or core disciple might stumble upon the scene. While he was confident in his invincibility at the Spirit Guiding stage, he knew he stood no chance against someone at the Xuan Wei realm. Speed was essential.
Killing these two disciples and moving on would be simple. He wondered how many treasures they carried; his previous victims had been quite rewarding.
Anticipation gleamed in the Bloodhand Butcher’s eyes as he imagined the spirit stones and treasures awaiting him. He raised the blood-stained dagger higher, preparing to strike.
“Clang—”
The clash of blades rang out, and as the dust settled, the crowd turned their gazes, only to find that it was not Ming He who had intercepted the Bloodhand Butcher’s strike.
A girl in red had appeared on the scene. She stood facing the Bloodhand Butcher, wielding a crimson long sword, its tip quivering slightly. Her expression was one of pride and defiance.
The crowd stared at her, and Ming He’s gaze fixed on her as well. Moments earlier, Ming He had been ready to strike, channeling sword energy for a decisive blow. But now, the girl in red stood in her way, blocking her path and disrupting her attack.
“Are you stupid? If you can’t win, can’t you at least hide? How foolish.” The girl in red turned to Ming He, her tone filled with disdain and contempt, but her intent to save was genuine.
Ming He looked at her with calm eyes, offering no explanation, remaining still in her spot.
The girl in red saw her unmoving stance and felt a flash of frustration, then turned to the Bloodhand Butcher, her expression shifting from helplessness to resentment and anger. “Bloodhand Butcher, you killed my Senior Sister Yang. Today, I will avenge her.”
As she spoke, she raised her sword, sending waves of spiritual energy through the air, moving closer as the sword tip trembled, creating ripples that sparkled like glass.
“Hmph.” The Bloodhand Butcher scoffed, dismissing her feeble attack. He raised his knife to block her sword strike, yet took a step back, his heel faltering.
She actually made him retreat?
A flicker of surprise crossed the Bloodhand Butcher’s eyes as he lifted his knife with all his might. “I’ve killed too many people. Which Senior Sister Yang are you talking about?”
“You—”
The girl in red was taken aback, unable to respond. Instead, she unleashed a continuous flurry of sword strikes that appeared as fragile as glass yet disarmed the suffocating murderous intent from his blood-stained dagger, momentarily leading to a standoff.
“That girl in blue doesn’t seem simple. Who would’ve thought she was just a pretty face?” Onlookers pointed at the still unmoving Ming He, their words dripping with mockery.
“That sword energy, I recognize it!” Another cultivator who had been observing the girl in red speculated, “That’s the Glass Sword Qi, around eighteen or nineteen years old, at the Spirit Guiding Fifth Level. She must be Liu Xiaole, the little master of the Glass Pavilion.”
“Liu Xiaole, the genius who comprehended sword intent as soon as she entered the Spirit Guiding stage?” Someone who had heard about her fame excitedly conversed with his companion.
“Indeed! With her here, it seems the Bloodhand Butcher is doomed this time.” The person eagerly asserted, thrilled to witness the downfall of the Bloodhand Butcher.
Liu Xiaole? Comprehended sword intent as soon as she entered Spirit Guiding?
Ming He stood still, absorbing the discussions around her and learning about the girl in red.
The Glass Pavilion, like Liu Yun Sect, was another sect in Luoyin City, but it primarily comprised female disciples.
The reason might be that their techniques and sword styles were soft and gentle, lacking raw power, embodying the principle of using softness to counter strength.
Using softness to counter strength.
Watching Liu Xiaole and the Bloodhand Butcher battle, Ming He realized they were a perfect example of soft versus hard techniques. In theory, Liu Xiaole should be able to defeat the Bloodhand Butcher, as techniques that counter each other can lead to high efficiency. Unfortunately…
Unfortunately, Liu Xiaole still struggled. Her cultivation level remained a limitation; she could be invincible among her peers and even challenge those above her, but the Bloodhand Butcher was equally formidable, with far richer combat experience.
Ming He watched as the Bloodhand Butcher struck Liu Xiaole, blood gushing from her wound, yet she still raised her sword to confront him. How could she call him foolish?
Holding back a chuckle, she activated the Phantom Steps, catching Liu Xiaole, who was about to be kicked down by the Bloodhand Butcher. With a revolved motion, she placed her beside the already recovering Zhang Lintian.
The sword unsheathed lightly touched the ground; leveraging the force, her body soared upwards, turning to slice down directly at the Bloodhand Butcher.
“Whoosh—”
After the Bloodhand Butcher dodged, the sword scraped violently against the ground, producing a series of sharp sounds. Ming He had anticipated this and didn’t rush. She shifted her sword tip for a follow-up attack, this time combining cold air within the sword energy. With a powerful clash against the murderous intent from the blood dagger, the cold energy enveloped the vicious aura, dominating without yielding.
Cold Sword!
Ming He called the sword technique in her mind, slightly surprised by its power. She had found that technique in the storage ring of Li Si, not from her sect’s sword methods.
Liu Rui had also used it before, far surpassing Li Si, implying that the Cold Sword technique was borrowed by Liu Rui for Li Si to practice, but ultimately, it would benefit her.
Ming He smiled, seizing the moment as the cold energy froze the Bloodhand Butcher’s onslaught. With the sword tip quivering, she unleashed a sweeping attack of Liu Yun that engulfed everything, empowered by the momentum of heaven and earth.
This strike was like a raging storm yet also felt like gentle rain, searching for a gap to flow in.
“Clang—”
Ming He watched as the Bloodhand Butcher fell lifelessly, unable to react. Calmly, she sheathed her sword and before he completely hit the ground, swiftly approached to grab the storage ring from his right hand, placing it in her pocket. She stored the blood dagger in the ring as proof of completing her task.
Having finished these actions, Ming He turned towards Liu Xiaole and Zhang Lintian, speaking gently, “Are you two alright?”
Liu Xiaole replied, “… I’m fine.”
She rubbed the spot on her palm that still pained from the knife energy shock, feeling as if her efforts in saving someone were in vain as that person was clearly stronger than her.
Ming He easily discerned the emotions in her eyes, smiling slightly. Looking around at the onlookers who were evidently shocked, a sense of pride arose in her heart, and she asked, “What about you, friend?”
She looked at Zhang Lintian, who had managed to get up, but his once pristine white clothes were now stained with blood and dirt, diminishing his youthful image.
“I’m fine,” Zhang Lintian replied, bowing his head with a hint of shame. “Thanks to you two, or I would have lost my life here today.”
Young disciples often seek to prove themselves in various ways. Killing the Bloodhand Butcher could bring fame and eliminate a threat, an enticing thought.
He thought he was sufficient as a sect disciple to handle a rogue cultivator, only to be met with harsh reality.
If it weren’t for this girl in blue… Zhang Lintian took a deep breath, not daring to think further. “Anyway, thank you for saving my life today. I will repay you in the future.”
“Indeed! Sister in blue, not only did you save me, but you also avenged my Senior Sister Yang by defeating the Bloodhand Butcher. You will be my friend, Liu Xiaole!”
The girl’s innocent disposition overlooked whether Ming He wanted to be her friend, establishing the relationship unilaterally.
Luckily, Ming He never disliked young, passionate individuals. Though she wasn’t that kind of person, it didn’t stop her from appreciating them.
So, she looked at her with a warm smile as if an elder observing a younger generation, “Alright.”
“Then what’s your name, Sister in Blue? Which sect are you from? I’ll come to play with you later.” Liu Xiaole asked cheerfully, curiosity bubbling as she wanted to know Ming He’s identity.
Ming He paused, noticing Zhang Lintian’s curious ears perked up beside her and the several intrigued faces surrounding her. She suddenly recalled Lou Qing Shang’s other purpose mentioned in the library on the third floor.
Fame, establishing reputation, broadening influence?
Her expression concealed behind a serene facade, she smiled just enough for everyone to hear clearly. “Inherited disciple of Liu Yun Sect, Ming He.”
“My name is Ming He.” Ming He declared her name with sincerity and turned to leave, her figure quickly disappearing from sight while the bright sword light lingered in the minds of the onlookers.
Because everyone was absorbed in that sword light, no one noticed the girl in blue as she turned, a flash of silver light flickering in her palm, landing on the overturned tea kettle at the stalls.
Moments later, the silver light dissipated, revealing a few pieces of silver coins.