Chapter 319: The Person Who Kills You! (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 319: Kill the One You Want! (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

Yan Jingchen!

Grand Elder of the Five Poison Sect!

Liu Liang shivered slightly, staring at the approaching Yan Jingchen without retreating but advancing.

His right hand drew the blade, his left hurled the scabbard, both hands gripping tightly.

The blade gleamed under the moonlight—

A flash of radiance, a blade's edge slicing through the air!

At the same moment, Liu Liang reminded softly, "Great Master, take them away!"

"If danger arises, remember to use that!"

He understood the cultivation levels and techniques of those behind him; they were no match for Yan Jingchen and the others from the Five Poison Sect.

Staying would only distract him, causing more harm.

The best course was to flee separately, perhaps saving one or two.

Zhang Daibao heard his words, whispered softly, then hurled the bamboo tube and sprinted away.

Jin Peng and the others did the same.

The shadow of the "Human Name Tree" clan.

Even though most of them had never heard of Yan Jingchen's name, they weren't unfamiliar with the Five Poison Sect.

They knew it as a wicked force that had plagued the Shu region for decades.

Their cultivation levels as disciples of the Tian Shan School were mostly below the third grade, with Jin Peng and over a dozen others reaching the third grade.

Their sword techniques were low, mere beginner or minor master levels—utterly inconsequential against Yan Jingchen and his companions.

And the people of the Five Poison Sect were truly vicious, wielding deadly arts, carrying poison herbs, and venomous creatures.

At that moment, why not run? What was there to wait for?

Yan Jingchen's hands formed claws, crushing Liu Liang's blade edge. Coldly commanding, "Kill them!"

Four figures leaped from the ship's remaining black-clad men, rushing toward Zhang Daibao and the others.

Liu Liang glanced at them, then turned his attention back, his expression grave as he stared at Yan Jingchen.

Especially his hands—five fingers as clear as jade, nails gleaming like blades.

"The secret technique of the Five Poison Sect, White Jade Art—I've heard of it, never imagined it would meet here."

The name "White Jade Art" was elegant, yet it was entirely a poison-based skill.

Legends spoke of the White Jade Art being cultivated with venomous substances, requiring daily application of vast quantities of poison, coating the body until it shone like jade.

"They say every move, every form of the White Jade Art can inflict poisonous wounds... it's terrifying."

In truth, Liu Liang had little chance against Yan Jingchen. He wanted to flee.

Yet if he didn't block Yan Jingchen, Zhang Daibao and the others would all die.

"Still some sense, though..." Yan Jingchen murmured.

In an instant, his figure blurred, becoming a shadow of black light.

When he looked again, he stood beside Liu Liang.

Claws extended, a flurry of claw-shaped blades erupting like white fire.

Bright and dazzling!

Liu Liang dared not meet forcefully. As his sword moved, he gripped his long blade, employing a coiling sword technique.

But it wasn't conventional coiling; in the moment of intertwining with the environment's spirit, he condensed countless phantom blade intents at incredible speed.

So many they formed a visible black sea of blade light.

Black and white clashed in an instant.

Strangely, the two forces of spiritual energy and spirit, colliding silently, dissipated without any external force.

"Huh?"

"Ghost blade?"

Yan Jingchen recognized the blade's origin, his eyes narrowing slightly. "So you're a disciple of the ghostly swordsman Chu Xiu!"

"Wolf Liu? The 'Sword Madman' Liu Liang, huh!"

"No wonder you had the nerve to disrespect me so!"

The reason "Ghost Blade" was called that wasn't just its sharpness or dominance.

True "Ghost Blade" was eerie, supremely gentle.

Like their previous clash, seemingly one strike, actually hundreds of blade flashes in that instant.

Otherwise, how could Yan Jingchen, with his third-grade cultivation and complete martial arts, be stopped silently?

Liu Liang stepped back, then advanced with a bow, his hands gripping the blade to his side, staring at him.

"Old one, you know my identity—why not hasten to release me and my companions?"

"If my master learns of this, you and the Five Poison Sect will bury me with him!"

Yan Jingchen chuckled.

"I'm his peer in age and rank—you think I fear him?"

Yet upon confirming Liu Liang's identity, Yan Jingchen didn't rush.

He studied Liu Liang, his gaze sweeping past the Five Poison Sect members chasing Zhang Daibao, then looking around.

"I've heard you and 'Dragon Tiger' Liu Wu are close friends. Where is he now?"

Liu Liang understood, smirking coldly. "Old one, you dare challenge him too?"

"I advise you to flee now, or when he arrives, you'll never escape."

Yan Jingchen's eyes turned icy. "A corpse isn't easily parted from its coffin!"

Before words finished, he struck again.

Claws rose, the surrounding world's spirit cleaved in two—one side bright as day, the other black as ink.

Two immense forces squeezed Liu Liang's body, making him stagger.

Every movement demanded his full strength.

"Old one, you're still far from matching me!"

Liu Lang would never simply surrender to capture; letting out a fierce roar, he vanished into the pitch-black darkness.

Swinging his body sideways, he drew a blade.

The black blade’s glow, shrouded in darkness, whistled toward Yan Jingchen.

The blade’s wind blew the Red River into violent ripples, its boats shuddering.

Yan Jingchen sneered, glanced at him once, and remained still, neither moving nor dodging, his hands clasped like claws.

The black blade shattered with a sharp crack.

He flicked his wrist, unleashing a claw.

Five long, short white blades arcs, sweeping toward Liu Lang.

Yet Liu Lang’s eyes never wavered; his feet barely stumbled, and he split into two.

One figure stood in the white void, another in the black darkness, like yin and yang separated.

Let the five clawed blades fly past, carving trenches across the mountains and rocks.

Liu Lang paid them no mind, two figures left and right waving their blades, striking Yan Jingchen.

“Ghost Blade: Double Kill!”

“Hmph!”

Yan Jingchen sneered coldly, catching the two blade flashes with his hands.

Shing, shing.

Two sharp cracks rang out simultaneously, and the blades shattered.

Yan Jingchen’s lips curled into a smile of anger.

“What boldness!”

Before he could move, another blade shadow surged forward.

One black, one white, it struck the weakest point in Yan Jingchen’s martial arts.

Yet Yan Jingchen, a top-tier master of the third grade, unleashed his protective golden body at the crucial moment.

Clang!

The blade sank three cun into his hat, only to be halted by immense force.

Liu Lang had anticipated this; as his two figures passed, he split into two again.

Four figures surrounded Yan Jingchen—two in front, two behind.

But Yan Jingchen paid him no heed, staring at his hat, now split into two pieces by the blade, his face red with fury:

“Good, good, good!”

“It seems I underestimated you—and the Ghost Blade!”

“Legend says the Ghost Blade, Chu Xiu Dao, can transform his body into countless blades, each strike releasing a thousand blades, wielding powers beyond mortal comprehension.”

“Now I see, the tales are true—Chu Xiu Dao truly earned such a name!”

Compared to his irritation, Liu Lang remained calm.

“If my master were here, you wouldn’t even withstand a single blade from him.”

Facing a legendary martial master with decades of fame, he could only respond carelessly.

Now, he no longer dared to imagine matching Chu Xiu Dao’s strength like Chen Yi, surpassing fifth-grade to third-grade might.

He could only try to delay the inevitable.

Not lingering, Liu Lang drew his blade again.

Four figures moved in perfect unison, a single, diagonal slash as he turned halfway.

Looking down, the black-and-white blade light sliced inward, like a spinning windmill, piercing Yan Jingchen.

—Ghost Blade: Four Kill!

But this time, Yan Jingchen didn’t let him strike so freely.

His feet shifted.

His hands struck in succession.

In the blink of an eye, four palm shadows shattered Liu Lang’s four blade glows.

The force of the palms tore through the blades.

Of the four illusory figures Liu Lang had created, three crumbled into nothingness, while he himself raised his blade to defend.

Thud.

A sharp crack echoed as Liu Lang was flung sideways, his body unyielding to his will.

A stench of blood wafted from his blade, creeping up his hands.

Before he could react, the foulness settled on his fingers and wrists.

Then, searing pain shot up his arms.

“Aaaah—!”

Liu Lang cried out in surprise.

On the ground, he didn’t wait to steady himself, staring at his hands.

There, his skin had split open, blood—jet black instead of red—oozed forth.

And black veins crawled up his bloodstreams, visible to the naked eye, poisoning his body.

Gritting his teeth, Liu Lang forced the pain aside, slashing his hands into wounds at his wrists.

Simultaneously, he channeled his spiritual energy to seal the pulse point at his elbow, expelling the poison.

A torrent of black blood spurted out, splattering the ground, eating into pits.

Though most of the poison drained away, Liu Lang still felt unrelenting agony in his hands.

Pain like rain, his features twisted.

Yet he clung to his blade, eyes hard as steel, staring at Yan Jingchen.

“White Jade Skill—this is all?”

Yan Jingchen glanced at him, tearing off his black cloth, revealing a face as white as jade, unmarked by age.

His jet-black hair showed not a hint of his fifty years.

“Your mouth is sharper than your blade.”

“Still, to sever a single hat with fifth-grade strength—you’ve got some skill.”

Yan Jingchen shook his head.

“Such a pity.”

“Chu Xiu Dao should’ve had a worthy disciple to inherit his legacy… but you…”

“You’re either dead or alive!”

His face darkened with killing intent, hands clasped together, facing Liu Lang.

The vital energies of heaven and earth, following his movements, were crushed and pressed violently toward Liu Lang.

At the same time, a stream of black vapors drifted from his pair of fingers as clear and lustrous as jade.

Gradually spreading around the area.

“Later, I’ll spread the news in the martial world and bring you a message—on this day next year, which is your death anniversary, let him come here to offer a sacrifice!”

Liu Lang looked at the swooshing black vapors but gave no response.

Bai Yu’s skill was overwhelming, his venomous power fierce.

Combined with Yan Qingcheng’s cultivation level and technique realm, it made it impossible to evade.

Therefore, he didn’t wait for those black vapors to encircle around.

Liu Lang stepped forward with a sudden force, his inner qi surging and erupting, all converging into his long blade.

Thereupon, his figure vanished from the spot.

In the blink of an eye, ghostly figures emerged and encircled Yan Qingcheng.

His long blade trembled, stirring and shattering the surrounding vital energies like the seas and oceans.

Though only a part, it was enough for Liu Lang to unleash a single strike.

Ghost Blade—Kill a Thousand!

Thousands of phantom figures, their faces pale and eyes cold, all wielding long blades.

Thousands of jet-black blade lights erupted, covering a hundred zhang and enveloping Yan Qingcheng.

Yan Qingcheng’s lips curled into a hint of a smile, “Overconfident fool!”

Thereupon, he dragged his hand forward.

The previously surging and spreading black vapors suddenly formed two large hands, shielding his body.

Let the surrounding blade lights slash at it, none could break through a speck.

Let alone injuring his body.

Liu Lang watched this scene, a bitter smile on his face, for the gap in strength was too great.

Compared to when he sparred with Chen Yi, it was even weaker.

His strongest strike, yet it couldn’t even stir a single wave.

But—Liu Lang still didn’t intend to give up.

Even if his figure was swaying under the pressure of the vital energies.

Even if his recent movements had left his body stained with black vapors and venom, his face and body torn and bleeding.

Severe pain swept through his entire body.

Old fool, do you not see anyone?!

Liu Lang clenched his teeth, squeezing out his inner qi, desperately connecting with the vital energies.

A jet-black blade light, ten zhang long, barely visible in the air.

Its power spread out, dispelling all the surrounding black vapors.

Yan Qingcheng, slightly startled, surprised, looked at Liu Lang, “You’ve actually reached the Completion stage?”

Liu Lang seemed not to hear.

Or rather, at this moment, his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose were all under attack from the venom, losing his senses.

Liu Lang could only rely on instinct, silently roaring as he unleashed his final strike at Yan Qingcheng.

—Ghost Blade—Return to One!

Thereupon saw that the jet-black blade light fell straight down with his movements.

Seeming slow but actually fast.

The solid blade intent, encompassing the vital energies within ten zhang, forcefully stabbed into Yan Qingcheng’s fist intent.

Even the black hands previously formed above couldn’t block a speck.

Seeing this, Yan Qingcheng restrained all expressions, sighed, and dodged swiftly.

Not that he couldn’t block it, but that his strength would still get some superficial injuries from this strike.

After he moved sideways, the blade light fell at his original position.

Sss—In a sound so faint it’s almost inaudible, the blade light plunged straight into the mountain rock below.

Like cutting a block of tofu.

Then, rumbling sounds echoed, the mountain rocks within ten zhang split in two, blown away by that blade intent.

Bang, bang. Resounding endlessly.

Yan Qingcheng watched silently, then gazed upon Liu Lang.

At this moment, Liu Lang still held the blade with both hands, fresh blood flowing, his breath not as sharp as before.

Yan Qingcheng watched him for a while, smiled, and shook his head, “A talented swordsman, what a pity…”

After saying that, he waved his hand, an energy blade straight towards Liu Lang.

From now on, there will be no more “Blade Madman” in the martial world.

Not knowing, before he could see Liu Lang’s head and feet separated, a cold snort came from afar: “Who gave you permission to say that?”

Huh?

Before Yan Qingcheng could make a move, a vague phantom emerged from afar.

It was a blur, crossing dozens of miles in the blink of an eye, barely reaching in time to block that slash of energy blade from hitting Liu Lang.

Just its qi shattered that energy blade.

Followed by that was overwhelming and sharp qi, wildly stirring the surrounding vital energies.

Yan Qingcheng’s fist technique, even at the Completion stage, was unable to suppress that force.

Yan Qingcheng frowned deeply, staring at the back of the one blocking Liu Lang—black clothes, strong build, long hair fluttering under the hood.

Couldn’t see the face clearly.

Who is coming?!

The person didn’t make a sound, flung out several silver needles, piercing Liu Lang’s acupoints, and with qi surging, drove out the black blood and resolved it.

After two breaths, when Liu Lang’s qi had somewhat recovered, the person turned around, cold eyes staring at Yan Qingcheng.

The person who killed you!

Was none other than Chen Yi!

(End of this chapter)