Chapter Thirty-Two: The Three Celestial Severings

In the sky, the winds and clouds suddenly shifted. Around the blade in that figure's hand, wind and rain surged with incredible speed, and under the guidance of the sword, countless slender sword auras swiftly formed. Qin Yi gripped his Feixue sword more tightly, and the shadowy figure did the same. In the next instant, two arcs, bright as moons, were drawn across the sky, though the differences between them were evident in many ways.

"Taiyi Three Strikes: Strike of the Demon Slayer." Qin Yi shouted, and the moon arc reached its peak. At this moment, the slender sword auras swirling around the figure’s blade raged forth like a violent storm, attacking the five Nascent Soul cultivators of the Wang clan from Eastern Ridge.

"Be careful! Form the Great Luo Golden Body, now!" one of them bellowed, and the five quickly manifested their defenses. Instantly, they transformed into five golden giants.

"Like a mantis trying to stop a chariot," Qin Yi sneered. The Three Taiyi Strikes were originally devised by the founders of Taiyi Sect, tailored to counter the strengths of demons, devils, and saints. The Demon Slayer Strike was meant to deal with the formidable bodies of the demon race.

Though his current cultivation could not unleash the world-shaking, soul-stirring might of the ancient founders, his mastery of the One Qi Three Purities technique gave him deeper insight into the Demon Slayer Strike than anyone could imagine. With the Wang clan's cultivators already struggling to control their vital energy, how could they withstand him? As expected, even though the five stuck close together, denying Qin Yi clear openings, the Demon Slayer Strike’s defining trait was its cutting power. Inevitably, they suffered wounds, and by the time the last sword aura faded—

Golden men had become bloody men.

"Ah!" The five blood-soaked figures howled in agony on the spot. One, his face slashed several times, glared at Qin Yi with a twisted, agonized expression and roared, "Boy, you'd better have the other two strikes ready, or your doorstep will become your grave today!"

"Is it not a blessing to die at one’s own threshold?" Qin Yi replied with a smile, his tone turning cold. "But I fear it is you who shall die far from home today."

Once again, Qin Yi raised Feixue toward the sky, this time pointing at the figure on the far right. The movement mirrored his own, but this time, the sword in midair remained utterly still.

Wu Bo, Wu Lang, and Zhang Chen, witnessing this, thought Qin Yi must have reached his limit. Perhaps he did not know the next move and was merely bluffing to intimidate the five Nascent Soul cultivators of the Wang clan. After all, despite his astonishing talent, Qin Yi was only seventeen years old and had just entered the Nascent Soul stage—a mere fledgling in their eyes.

Jiang Yao, observing all this, remained unfazed. She too knew the Three Taiyi Strikes, and she understood the Devil Slayer Strike was always subtle in form but ingenious in execution.

"Brat, you truly are at your last gasp. Now, see how we deal with you." The five Wang clan Nascent Soul cultivators grinned with delight and advanced, ready to seize Qin Yi without further defense.

Wang Weixue, seeing their carelessness, nearly bulged his eyes out in rage. "You fools! Are you seeking death? Defend yourselves, now!"

The five instinctively halted their advance at his furious shout.

"Taiyi Three Strikes: Strike of the Devil Slayer."

Before they could react, the Devil Slayer Strike from the figure above Qin Yi’s head flashed toward them.

Thump, thump! Two who had failed to defend themselves fell as the Devil Slayer Strike pierced their hearts, blood mingling with rain and staining the ground crimson. The remaining three, startled by their companions’ deaths, managed to activate their defenses. Even so, two had their arms sliced off, the wounds as smooth as mirrors, leaving only one unscathed survivor.

"Ah!" The two who lost their arms collapsed in agony, their screams echoing through Chaoyang Street. The local residents, having paid attention to Qin Yi since his arrival, were now terrified. They were ordinary folk of Yulong Fort, unaccustomed to such carnage. If not for knowing Qin Yi was one of their own, they would have fled long ago. After all, even the Wang clan’s men had not killed anyone when they came, intending only to take the two members of the Qin family at the end of the street.

"Boy, leave a line of retreat in life, so we may meet again." Wang Weixue called out with an icy tone from afar. The Wang clan did indeed have many Nascent Soul cultivators, but the more, the better. Furthermore, as the leader of this expedition, he did not wish to return to be the subject of gossip. Such matters might seem trivial to commoners, but those of their stature valued their reputation above all.

"Heh—then let us not meet again," Qin Yi replied coolly, raising Feixue skyward once more, preparing to unleash the most powerful of the Taiyi Three Strikes: the Saint Slayer.

No matter the Wang clan’s intentions for taking the two from the Qin family, Qin Yi had no intention of showing mercy. First, he had been reborn using another’s body—he could not stand idly by. Second, he had always harbored no goodwill toward the Wang clan.

"If you ignore the advice of your elders, you’ll suffer for it soon enough," Wang Weixue shouted, his face contorted, as he charged toward Qin Yi.

But before he could get far, Hanmei Sword Qi swept in. Jiang Yao stepped between them, her tone calm. "You will not interfere."

Wang Weixue glanced at the battlefield, then at Jiang Yao blocking his path, as if weighing his options.

"Taiyi Three Strikes: Strike of the Saint."

While he hesitated, Qin Yi unleashed the Saint Slayer. The world itself seemed to tremble; the sword strike surged forward like the mighty tides of the Yong River, overwhelming and unstoppable, rolling toward the three remaining Nascent Soul cultivators of the Wang clan. Staring at the oncoming surge, they were utterly lost as to how to resist, standing frozen, awaiting death.

"Boy, do you really think I do not exist? Do you think she alone can hold me back? Dream on!" Wang Weixue roared, gathering his energy and launching a powerful punch at Jiang Yao. In the instant she parried, he found a slender opening and seized the chance to charge straight at Qin Yi.

"Your arrogance ends here!" Wang Weixue broke through the gap, attacking Qin Yi head-on. Sword Qi clashed with his fist, sharpness against force, like needle against wheat stalk.

But Wang Weixue was beset on all sides. Though his experience let him find a momentary gap in Jiang Yao’s defense, he could not completely shake her off. She was already at his back, Hanmei Sword in hand, unleashing her own Saint Slayer Strike from the Taiyi Three Strikes.

"Taiyi Three Strikes: Strike of the Saint."