Chapter 37

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Chapter 37: Bloodletting

“So, this so-called Xuan Yuan True Method is this weak? You’re still at the second level of the Qi Refining Stage, and yet you dare to brag about it? What a disgrace to the Xuanyuan Sect!”

Yi Qianmo’s mocking smile cut deep.

Not far away, Yu Changqing staggered to his feet, his face ashen. Shock paralyzed him just as much as it did Xiao Xu. For thirteen years, he had watched Yi Qianmo grow—watched as the boy they forced into the Yu family as nothing more than a furnace transformed into this… terrifying force.

A celestial being.

This boy, once scorned as an ant beneath their feet, had turned the tide against the celestial. If Xiao Xu couldn’t control him today, the Yu family might soon follow the Lei and Huang families into ruin.

“You are courting death!”

Xiao Xu’s fury erupted as he unsheathed his sword and lunged at Yi Qianmo.

Spiritual power surged into the blade, and the resulting energy rippled out like waves, engulfing Yi Qianmo entirely. This was the Cloud Wave Sword Technique, a hallmark of the Xuanyuan Sect’s mastery.

The crowd, already shaken from the earlier carnage, retreated further, sensing the lethal energy filling the air.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew as Yi Qianmo met Xiao Xu’s strikes. Their clash sent shockwaves through the battlefield, forcing even the strongest warriors to recoil in awe.

“Your Xuan Yuan True Method is… amusing,” Yi Qianmo remarked casually as their blades locked.

Xiao Xu, momentarily taken aback, felt a flicker of pride. Even amidst the chaos, a compliment was a compliment. “Good that you know it. If you don’t want to die, kneel and…”

But Yi Qianmo interrupted with a sneer, “The technique is fine. It’s just unfortunate that you’re too weak to wield it.”

“You insolent beast! Let’s see how long you can keep up this arrogance!”

Xiao Xu, his fury palpable, redoubled his attacks. His blade slashed with renewed ferocity, and the air hummed with spiritual energy.

But Yi Qianmo was unfazed. “Let me show you what it truly means to wield spiritual power,” he declared, his voice calm yet brimming with authority.

In an instant, the flow of Yi Qianmo’s spiritual power shifted. It surged into his blade, condensing at the tip with precision. As the two swords met, Yi Qianmo’s focused energy shattered Xiao Xu’s scattered spiritual power like a wave crashing against a boulder.

Clang!

The crowd gasped.

“How is this possible? Isn’t Xiao Xu a disciple of the Immortal Gate? How can his spiritual control be inferior to Yi Qianmo’s?”

The disbelief was universal. Xiao Xu had years of training under the Immortal Sect, while Yi Qianmo was a self-taught rogue practitioner. Yet the latter was clearly superior.

“Your sword technique is intriguing, but in your hands, it’s wasted,” Yi Qianmo said, a glint of disdain in his eyes.

“Die!” Xiao Xu roared, channeling his remaining spiritual energy into a desperate assault.

But Yi Qianmo was unrelenting. His strikes were swift and precise, leaving no openings. “You’re out of spiritual power, aren’t you?” he taunted, his own energy flowing as freely as an unending river.

Unbeknownst to Xiao Xu, Yi Qianmo’s dantian and meridians had been tempered through years of relentless practice. His spiritual reserves far exceeded those of ordinary practitioners, even those a level above him.

“Your Cloud Wave Sword Technique…” Yi Qianmo began.

Xiao Xu interrupted, his voice cracking, “How do you know the Cloud Wave Sword Technique of my Xuanyuan Sect?!”

Yi Qianmo chuckled. “Know it? I mastered it just by watching you.”

The crowd was stunned. Could Yi Qianmo truly replicate techniques after merely observing them?

“You… You monster!” Xiao Xu’s voice was filled with despair.

“Call it whatever you want,” Yi Qianmo replied indifferently. “But the real issue isn’t me—it’s you. You’re just too weak.”

Their swords clashed again, but this time, Xiao Xu’s movements were sluggish. He was running on fumes, while Yi Qianmo moved with unrelenting vigor.

In a final, desperate attempt, Xiao Xu charged, but Yi Qianmo countered effortlessly, his sword slicing through Xiao Xu’s defenses.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sound of metal echoed through the battlefield, each strike from Yi Qianmo further battering Xiao Xu.

Within moments, Xiao Xu was drenched in blood, his pristine robes now torn and stained. His once-proud posture had crumbled, replaced by trembling legs barely holding him upright.

“You dare hurt me!” Xiao Xu hissed, sealing his wounds in a futile effort to stem the blood. “I am a disciple of the Xuanyuan Sect. You dare harm me?!”

Yi Qianmo’s expression darkened.

“You hurt my grandfather and Second Uncle, didn’t you?”

Xiao Xu smirked, though weakly. “And what if I did?”

Yi Qianmo’s grip tightened on his sword. “Very well.”

With a sudden surge of spiritual power, Yi Qianmo’s strikes became a relentless onslaught.

“Sizzle… sizzle…”

Each strike found its mark, opening fresh wounds on Xiao Xu.

The guards of the Yi family, watching from the sidelines, were reminded of Yi Qianmo’s battle with Lei Yuntian. Half a month ago, Lei Yuntian had looked just like this—bloodied and broken.

As Xiao Xu crumpled to his knees, Yi Qianmo stood over him, his sword poised for the final blow.

“It’s over,” Yi Qianmo said coldly.

Xiao Xu, his voice trembling, managed to whisper, “You… you dare…”

But Yi Qianmo’s blade gleamed, silencing him forever