Having studied for a hundred years, why do you call me the Martial Saint?

Hallucination?

In front of Suishan Hall.

Gongzi Yu stood with his hands behind his back at the foot of the stone steps, with four True Yuan Realm experts standing to his left and right behind him, and then more than thirty elite soldiers in black.

Qin Zhongyu held the Jinghong Sword, its blade as red as blood.

Shen Heting and his other fellow disciples stood guard by his side, all of them injured.

"Sect Leader Qin, the sword is a fine sword, but the man—" Gongzi Yu sneered, his meaning self-evident.

With a wave of his hand, Xu Qishi and three other True Yuan Realm cultivators pounced out like ghosts.

Qin Zhongyu roared, his momentum like thunder, his sword flashing like a rainbow, aiming straight for Gongzi Yu.

This sword strike was swift.

But Gongzi Yu merely turned slightly to the side, and the sword's edge grazed the hem of his clothes.

Qin Zhongyu constantly changed his moves, his speed was extremely fast, his sword posture was constantly turning, and his sword intent was ethereal, but every strike was just a tiny bit off.

Gongzi Yu could always predict the trajectory of the sword strike before he could.

Qin Zhongyu's heart sank. He had long heard that Gongzi Yu had reached a higher level, and now it seemed that it was indeed true.

He had heard his master mention this higher realm, which he called spiritual awareness.

Compared to the True Essence Realm, the difference in internal energy in the Spiritual Consciousness Realm is not overwhelming; what is overwhelming is perception.

Gongzi Yu could clearly hear Qin Zhongyu's every breath, every muscle tremor, and the flow of his true energy in his meridians.

Therefore, he could anticipate every move Qin Zhongyu made with his sword.

Just like a sighted person playing tricks on a blind person, no matter how fast or sharp the sword is, it can't pierce them.

"Too slow," Gongzi Yu mocked, striking out with his palm.

Qin Zhongyu was sent flying by a palm strike. He gritted his teeth and stood up again, but his arm was covered in blood and he could barely hold his sword. He was clearly seriously injured.

Meanwhile, four True Yuan Realm cultivators were locked in battle with Shen Heting and his group. Since only Shen Heting was a True Yuan Realm cultivator, the Suishan disciples, despite their desperate efforts and the formation of a sword array, could only barely hold on and were even forced to retreat.

"Sect Leader! The west flank has fallen!"

"Sect Leader, those madmen have already stormed the central courtyard!"

Outside the hall, panicked disciples kept coming in with bad news, and they became even more flustered when they saw the scene in front of the hall.

Qin Zhongyu looked around. All the disciples in front of the hall were injured, some of them could not even stand steadily, but they were holding their swords tightly.

In the distance, flames soared into the sky, and shouts of battle echoed continuously.

The woodshed, the canteen, and even the welcoming pavilion outside the mountain gate were all engulfed in flames. Thick smoke billowed into the night sky, only to be suppressed by the heavy snow, forming a layer of gray mist in mid-air.

Henchmen carrying torches rushed down the mountain path, smashing doors, chopping people, and setting houses on fire.

One of the disciples was struck on the leg with a stick, and fell to the ground in the snow with a scream. The henchman did not chase after him, but instead threw the torch into the woodshed next door.

The fire spread rapidly.

This scene is just a microcosm of the hundreds of battlefields in Suishan.

The once tranquil mountain gate is now like hell.

The servants' quarters.

Qian Le leaned against a courtyard wall that had collapsed halfway, clutching a wood-chopping knife he had picked up from the ground.

"Left, left side!" Deng Shifan hurriedly reminded him from the side.

Without thinking, Qian Le turned his head and dodged, and an iron rod grazed his ear and hit the wall.

Qian Le aimed at the other man's neck and slashed with his knife, but only hit the other man's arm.

The man screamed and kicked Qian Le to the ground.

The iron rod was raised, aimed at Qian Le's head.

"It's over!"

Just as he was thinking this, he heard the sound of wood being rubbed together rapidly.

A dummy burst out of the flames, its wooden sword piercing through the club-wielding bandit!

"What the hell is that?"

"A wooden figure?"

"Smash it, whatever it is!"

The other bandits nearby noticed the dummy and were taken aback, but immediately swung three knives at the same time, slashing at the dummy.

The blade cleaved into the wood, sending up a few wood chips.

The dummy felt no pain and kept moving. With a single slash, several bandits were cut in half at the waist!

The servants in the courtyard were all stunned.

Qian Le lay on the ground, his mouth agape in astonishment, almost dropping the machete in his hand.

"What...what is this?!"

After the dummy knocked down the last bandit, it suddenly cracked open and shattered into wood chips.

Outside the courtyard, even more mannequins were passing by.

The servants looked bewildered.

"Are we hallucinating? —"

Outer Disciples' Courtyard.

Chen Wenyan, Zhou Ji, and Fang Zhong stood back to back, all of them exhausted. The number of disciples around them was decreasing, but the number of henchmen was not decreasing.

"How much longer can we hold out?"

"I wonder if we can kill three more?"

"What good are three?"

Groups of bandits surged forward again.

Just then, a group of dummies rushed in from the left, like a sharp knife cutting into the battlefield; wherever they went, bandits fell one after another.

"What the hell is this thing?!"

"Are they mechanical beings from Mount Akatsuki? Mount Akatsuki has joined the war too?"

A voice filled with surprise and uncertainty came from among the outer disciples.

Regardless, the appearance of these dummies gave them a brief respite, and the bandits began to scatter under the impact of the dummies.

The other side of the mountain road.

The old man with the blood leech lost his patience.

A group of martial arts practitioners lay sprawled on the ground around him.

Hu Bugui lay on his back in the snow, a deep dent in his left chest from which blood flowed, but he grinned and said, "I've paid my debt for this drink—"

Du Hongxiu knelt beside her, one leg unable to move, her short sword stuck in the snow.

"The people of Red Sleeve Manor didn't disgrace the Sword Master, did they?"

"Shameful? Heh." The Blood Leech Elder sneered, "You don't even have the ability to make me use my full strength, yet you dare to talk about shame?"

He raised his hand, ready to end them.

Just then, a commotion arose.

The old man with the blood leech turned his head to look.

Dozens of mannequins rushed along the mountain path.

"Mount Chijin?" Du Hongxiu asked, her face full of doubt.

"It seems that old fellow Lu Zhongzheng has some hidden treasures up his sleeve—" Hu Bugui said with a deep breath and a laugh.

The dummies all pounced on the Blood Leech Elder at the same time.

Then, it was shattered by a single palm strike!

With a casual strike, the three dummy figures charging in front of him shattered into wood chips.

"That flashy, rotten piece of wood dares to try and stop this old man?"

With his second palm strike, he swept away the dummy on the left, and then with his third palm strike, he smashed all the remaining dummy into pieces.

From their debut to their complete annihilation, it took only a few breaths.

Hu Bugui's smile froze on his face.

"It seems your reinforcements are nothing special." The Blood Leech Elder turned around coldly and gathered his true energy again.

"I've come to destroy Yang Qingfeng's lineage; killing you was just a side trip. Now it's time to get going!"

Just then, the Blood Leech Elder suddenly turned around, his face full of doubt.

"Um?"

An old man with an air of otherworldly wisdom appeared by the mountain path at some unknown time, holding a jet-black longsword.

"Who are you?"

Gu Shuxian did not answer the question posed by the Blood Leech Elder.

He turned to look in the direction of Suishan, where thick smoke was billowing and fires were breaking out everywhere.

Gu Shuxian frowned. He transformed into an old man and rushed directly to what seemed to be the most dangerous place, but it seemed he had fallen for a diversionary tactic.

We need to get back up the mountain quickly.

Enraged that the other party ignored him, the Blood Leech Elder unleashed his signature move, the Blood Leech Palm, with both palms!

This move is incredibly potent; instead of releasing the force of the palm strike, it draws it into the palm itself. If struck by this palm strike, the skin will bleed profusely, a truly horrifying sight.

But Gu Shuxian didn't even look at it, and casually swung his sword.

The Blood Leech Elder only saw a flash of sword light, and couldn't even catch the trajectory of the sword, before his body stopped.

He looked down at his chest, where a crack ran from his brow to his chest.

"Such a fast sword—"

Then his body split in two, falling to the left and right, his blood staining a large patch of snow crimson!

Du Hongxiu and Hu Bugui were stunned.