Chapter Fifty: One Man, One Sword—A Terror to All Foes

In the dead of night before Qingping Mountain, over a dozen figures streaked upward like flowing light.

Jiang Sheng stood firm, sword in hand, his voice clear yet laced with a deadly intent: “Those who remain on the mountain after three breaths will be beheaded!”

Ning Kang’s eyes brimmed with ferocity as he glared at Jiang Sheng’s unmasked aura atop the mountain. “I want him dead!”

Lei Zhen nodded grimly. “If he lives, we can’t claim the treasure!”

Chen Ping glanced at the nearby figures and said, “These people saw the blue light ascending. They will inevitably clash with Jiang Sheng. We need not rush.”

As Chen Ping predicted, those climbing the mountain ignored Jiang Sheng’s warning and pressed forward with determination, clearly intent on forcefully breaking through.

“Do you really think this humble monk is made of clay?” Jiang Sheng’s eyes flashed coldly, and the Qingping Sword in his hand hummed softly.

Focusing on the figure charging ahead, Jiang Sheng struck out with a single slash.

The azure blade streaked forward, cutting through everything in its path. The lead cultivator, startled by the terrifying sword energy, hastily raised his hands to defend.

A ghostly green palm of spiritual energy met the sword’s strike.

Chen Ping was surprised. “Poison Palm Kang Xing?”

But the next moment, the spiritual palm shattered under the sword’s might.

The sword energy maintained its relentless momentum, and Kang Xing, hiding behind the shattered palm, could only watch in horror as the blue sword light pierced through his body, leaving behind a wail.

“Ah!”

The once swift Kang Xing was cleaved in two by the sword energy.

Yet the cultivators flanking him paid no heed to his gruesome demise, launching wave after wave of spells at Jiang Sheng.

First came a dense barrage of icy needles like a rainstorm, followed by dozens of golden spears hurtling down like meteors.

Chen Ping recognized the familiar techniques and the distinct spiritual fluctuations, exclaiming, “Frozen Needles by Han Qianli and Golden Spears by Zhang Han—they’ve come as well?”

Despite the relentless assault, Jiang Sheng remained composed.

“Child’s play.”

With a casual flick, Jiang Sheng tossed out two yellow talismans, which instantly burst into twin blazing flames, each ten meters wide.

The roaring fire engulfed the icy needles and golden spears, nullifying Han Qianli and Zhang Han’s attacks.

Before they could react, blue sword energies shot out from the flames.

The sword lights expanded to a meter wide, pierced through the flames, and in the blink of an eye, reached Han Qianli and Zhang Han.

They barely had time to resist before their heads were severed by the sword energy.

Two foundation-building cultivators who had just made a grand display were beheaded without a sound, their bodies tumbling into the forest.

Even Chen Ping and Zhao Hong were utterly shocked.

Poison Palm Kang Xing, Frozen Needles Han Qianli, Golden Spears Zhang Han—each was a well-known foundation-building wanderer in Haijun Prefecture.

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