Chapter Nineteen: One Against Three

The mountain path, already shrouded in silence, grew even quieter at Qin Yi’s words, until only the distant sounds of Zhang Chen and Wang Yuncheng’s duel could be heard.

“Are you sure?” Qian Fu narrowed his eyes at Qin Yi, surprise flickering in his gaze.

“Enough talk.” Qin Yi snapped, gripping the three-foot bamboo rod in his right hand. He charged directly at Qian Fu—of the three, Qian Fu was certainly the weakest in combat. Qin Yi was determined to take him down first, lest he interfere in the battles to come.

He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang, seeing through Qin Yi’s intentions, swiftly positioned themselves in front of Qian Fu. The former’s hands glowed with a greenish light, wielding the techniques of the Supreme Azure Path. The latter drew from his back a sword of rare quality for a cultivator of the fourth foundation realm.

Qin Yi smiled at this display. To him, He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang standing before Qian Fu were nothing more than two extra walls. Effortlessly, he parried a sweeping strike from Chen Wenxiang, then angled the sword’s tip toward He Mengwei. Caught off guard, He Mengwei found himself unable to move an inch under the threat of the blade. Qin Yi seized the moment, darted past He Mengwei, and came face-to-face with Qian Fu, bringing his bamboo rod down in a horizontal slash toward Qian Fu’s bloated form.

At that moment, He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang were still recalling Qin Yi’s earlier parry, stunned that someone two realms below them could so easily slip past both at once. Among the youths of their foundation stage, even those with considerable combat experience shouldn’t be able to so deftly bypass two stronger peers.

Fortunately for Qian Fu, he had kept a close eye on Qin Yi’s movements. As Qin Yi’s bamboo rod descended, Qian Fu summoned the cauldron gifted by his master as an initiation present. Being no mere flesh and blood, the cauldron blocked the blow with ease.

“How could you let him slip by so easily?” Qian Fu roared at He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang, his face flushing with anger as he deflected Qin Yi’s strike.

He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang, jolted by his shout, quickly composed themselves. Each unleashed the entry technique of the disciples of Mount Supreme, charging at Qin Yi, who remained locked with Qian Fu.

Qin Yi paid them no heed, waiting calmly for their attack. If he retaliated now, it would expose the ruse that he was still entangled by Qian Fu.

He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang, being at the peak of the fourth foundation realm, closed in swiftly. Especially Chen Wenxiang—his sword aura, not yet fully mastered, was already close to piercing the back of Qin Yi’s robe.

Yet, just as Chen Wenxiang’s sword aura was but a hair’s breadth from Qin Yi’s back, Qin Yi’s next move left all three men stunned.

With a cold snort, Qin Yi channeled his strength through the bamboo rod pressed against Qian Fu’s cauldron, breaking free. He placed a palm on Qian Fu’s shoulder, using the momentum to leap over his head, and brought the bamboo rod down hard against the tendons behind Qian Fu’s knees.

Now, it was Qian Fu’s turn to panic. Ahead, Chen Wenxiang’s sword aura was nearly upon him; behind, Qin Yi’s rod was descending in a ruthless arc. There was no time to advance, retreat, or even sidestep.

“Careful!” He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang shouted in unison.

“Stop! Now!” Qian Fu’s bloated face twisted in terror as he screamed at Chen Wenxiang, who gripped his sword helplessly.

“I can’t control it!” Chen Wenxiang cried, struggling to rein in his blade, but it was futile—the sword would not obey.

“Damn it!” Qian Fu cursed, forced to choose the lesser evil. He raised his cauldron to block the sword aura, leaving himself wide open behind.

A loud crack rang out as Qin Yi’s bamboo rod struck the back of Qian Fu’s knees. Pain shot through his legs, and he collapsed, knees slamming to the ground. His anguished scream echoed through the forest.

After his cry faded, Qian Fu lay writhing in agony, face twisted with rage as he glared at Qin Yi and roared, “Break his arms and legs!”

Qin Yi returned Qian Fu’s furious glare with cold indifference. He felt no guilt—after all, they had attacked Zhang Chen first. He had not crippled Qian Fu, merely incapacitated him for a while; a few healing pills would see him right as rain. Even Uncle Li Ding would not risk offending his own master for this.

Meanwhile, Zhang Chen and Wang Yuncheng, still locked in combat nearby, heard the scream and glanced over. Both were startled to see Qian Fu on his knees. Relief flickered in Zhang Chen’s eyes—so Qin Yi had some tricks up his sleeve after all. Wang Yuncheng, on the other hand, quickly composed himself; losing Qian Fu was no great loss.

He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang exchanged glances between the wailing Qian Fu and the impassive Qin Yi. They had not expected the latter to be so cunning; as a mere visceral-forging cultivator, he had played three marrow-washing peers for fools. They began to take this youth, two realms below them, far more seriously.

“Now it’s your turn.” Qin Yi gazed coldly at He Mengwei and Chen Wenxiang. He had to deal with them quickly—Zhang Chen, though gifted in the art of talismans, was equal in cultivation to Wang Yuncheng, who had also mastered the Wang clan’s supreme scripture, the Grand Dao Sutra. Qin Yi could not help but worry.

He Mengwei’s hands glowed green, while Chen Wenxiang brandished his sword, both preparing to strike. Yet they were surprised when Qin Yi lightly stamped his right foot and uttered a single word:

“Trap...!”

The moment the word faded, He Mengwei was the first to react. He suddenly felt as if he were mired in a swamp, unable to move. As the son of one of the Three Great Houses of the Southern Seas, he quickly looked down and saw a sigil inscribed beneath his feet.

“It’s a talisman! When did he set this?” He Mengwei exclaimed in shock.

“Uncle, you’ll have to stay there for a while!” Qin Yi called with a smile. He had drawn the low-level sigil with his feet as he moved earlier. It wouldn’t hold He Mengwei for long, but it was more than enough to deal with Chen Wenxiang.

Turning his attention to the now-isolated Chen Wenxiang, Qin Yi tightened his grip on the bamboo rod and prepared to attack. Suddenly, he sensed something strange and glanced up at the distant sky, a smile curving his lips.

“Shall I give them a little scare?” Qin Yi murmured to himself before folding his arms and calling leisurely toward the sky:

“Sword, come—!”