Volume Three: The Intent of the Ten Directions Chapter 101: Blades and Swords Meet

Within the purple beam of light surged boundless thunderous power. Behind Qin Yang, the void transformed into a sea of lightning, as if he stood amidst an ocean. His eyes blazed like torches, flickering with dazzling brilliance.

Facing him, Aotian stood calmly, pulling out a white cloth to wipe his Immortal-Slaying Sword, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He exuded the aura of a refined gentleman, utterly unfazed by Qin Yang’s fierce blade strikes.

Suddenly, Aotian’s eyes sharpened, and with a swift leap, his Immortal-Slaying Sword sliced across the sky. His sword emitted no dazzling light nor terrifying might, yet the strike was impossibly swift and fierce.

He seemed to merge with the sword itself, achieving the realm of perfect unity between man and blade. Everyone widened their eyes in astonishment, unable to clearly perceive Aotian’s sword movements; by the end, even his figure seemed to vanish.

The White-Clad Sword Sage’s reputation was truly well-deserved.

Qin Yang gripped his Starfall Blade tightly and with a sudden forceful thrust from his left hand, the space around them trembled. Countless bolts of lightning surged forth like silver serpents, and the previously vanished Aotian reappeared.

Qin Yang’s eyes narrowed sharply, for at this moment Aotian stood mere meters away—less than ten paces between them.

The Thunderblade Scripture: Annihilation of All Things.

Without hesitation, Qin Yang unleashed his ultimate skill. Previously, this move had been somewhat forced, but now, after his breakthrough, he wielded it with ease.

The blade’s radiance transformed into a colossal beast that seemed to devour the heavens, rushing forward to engulf Aotian. Amid gasps from the crowd, the sword’s intent raged fiercely in the air, and the devouring beast was shattered into fragments.

The terrifying aftershock spread outward—not because the power was insufficient, but because of the vast distance.

Everyone swallowed hard, suppressing their shock and excitement.

After today, the names of these two warriors would surely echo throughout the world.

“How intriguing,” Qin Yang muttered, charging forward once more. He unleashed the full might of his blade’s dominance, embodying a true sovereign.

In contrast, Aotian remained courteous and composed, like a scholar, like a gentleman.

One terrifying technique followed another, ceaselessly, yet Aotian countered each of Qin Yang’s attacks with flawless precision.

The Daoist intent began to coalesce, and Qin Yang realized that if this continued, determining a victor would be no easy feat.

He forcibly fused the murderous intent with the yin-yang Daoist principles, enveloping the entire sky within their grasp.

Aotian, now standing within the enemy’s domain, showed no sign of concern. Instead, he curiously scanned his surroundings, his face full of surprise. Counting carefully, he drew a sharp breath.

This was truly uncanny—what kind of prodigy was this young man, to have comprehended so many Daoist principles?

Both shared the same goal: the destruction of immortals.

Yet their paths differed. Aotian pursued the sword’s intent to transcendence, sweeping the eight directions with a single stroke.

Qin Yang, however, had embarked on a path of annihilation, evoking the feeling of obliterating all living beings.

From the very start, he knew his mission. As his memories unfolded, he grew ever more aware of the perilous nature of his deeds.

The blade’s radiance ravaged the air, the sword’s intent whispered like a chill wind. The two locked eyes.

“The Immortal-Slaying Sword Technique,” Aotian said quietly, “I obtained it from within the sword itself. I have never used it before. You are lucky… and unlucky. Even I cannot fully control some of its moves.”

“If you concede now, it’s not too late,” Aotian continued after a pause, “Talents like you are rare. I hope that one day, we might stand side by side on the path ahead.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then perhaps I should feel quite proud.”

“Indeed, not many earn such praise from the White-Clad Sword Sage.”

Aotian considered this, then nodded. “You may look at it that way.”

Snorting coldly, Qin Yang surged forward again, his Starfall Blade slashing out once more.

The Starfall Blade was a weapon forged in the Immortal Destruction Campaign, tempered with countless drops of his master’s blood essence. Qin Yang was eager to see how it fared against the Immortal-Slaying Sword.

He only knew of the Immortal-Slaying Sword from novels. Judging by Aotian’s bearing, he must have inherited it; otherwise, he could not wield such terrifying power.

Their combat strength was beyond that of ordinary peak practitioners of the Profound Realm. They stood at the pinnacle of mortal martial arts, with only a handful capable of matching them.

Yet Qin Yang’s concern was not these facts but this duel of blade and sword—who would emerge the ultimate victor?

First Form of the Immortal-Slaying Sword Technique.

The air grew sharp again, and a fine drizzle began to fall from the sky. No one dared leave despite the rain; standing there, the two seemed surrounded by an invisible shield that repelled the droplets.

On the high platform, some elders whispered among themselves, while others wore grave expressions.

Two martial masters had suddenly appeared, reshaping the landscape of the ancient martial world.

Qin Yang, from the secular realm, wielded limited influence, but Aotian, a disciple of the Sword Sect, commanded the attention of all.

A deadly intent stirred in the heavens, chaotic light swirling uncontrollably.

If Aotian had been a gentleman before, now he was a monarch.

The difference between a gentleman and a monarch was but a single word, yet worlds apart.

When a monarch rages, millions fall, rivers run red with blood.

The sword’s intent danced, carving a silver river across the sky, a hundred zhang wide and a thousand zhang long, brimming with supreme killing intent.

Waves surged, as if slashing through countless demons.

Faced with this grave challenge and overwhelming might, Qin Yang readied himself with utmost seriousness.

The sixth form of the Thunderblade Scripture was about to be unleashed.

Behind him, beyond the thunderous aura, loomed a terrifying giant demonic figure, as if suppressing all under heaven.

Its massive form was boundless, visible only as a faint silhouette, the rest hidden in the void.

Power—unmatched power—erupted instantly.

The blade’s radiance devoured heaven and earth, threatening to annihilate all before them.

Several elders’ faces changed dramatically; they had been invited by the Dragon Continent to guard this place against unexpected incidents.

Together, they formed a formidable formation, enveloping the two combatants.

Slash!

Annihilate!

Both suddenly surged forth; blade and sword radiance sliced through the air, illuminating the sky like shattered mirrors under their light.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The mountain peak beneath them collapsed instantly, sending shockwaves downward. Around them, the crowd stared wide-eyed.

Damn—that was fierce!

Seeing the formation intact, the elders breathed a sigh of relief; if even with their numbers they failed to contain the fight, it would be a huge embarrassment.

Qin Yang’s eyes flickered sharply. His arm swept through the air, seven silver fox blades appearing, instantly forming the Thousand-Leaf Blade Array.

The array sealed Aotian inside. A cold sneer crossed Qin Yang’s lips. His hand gripping the Starfall Blade trembled slightly before regaining calm.

Aotian’s face paled slightly, cold eyes fixed on the blade array, utterly unshaken. A mocking smile played on his lips. “I didn’t expect you had so many tricks up your sleeve!”

“Heh, there are many more. It depends on your skill now.”