Elderly Martial Saint: Sixty Times the Cultivation Speed ​​at the Start

Yi Yang's eyes darted around in the moonlight.

Then he fell.

He staggered back two steps, his buttocks hitting a stone block in the courtyard, and he slid to the ground. The knife in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter.

His lips trembled and fought, squeezing out broken wails from his throat.

"No...don't kill me...the old man is just a gatekeeper..."

The burly man let out a loud "ha!" and his mouth stretched to his ears.

"The gatekeepers are also dogs of the Sky Patrol Bureau."

The man raised his broadsword, aiming it at Yi Yang's head, and strode forward. The skinny bandit circled around to the right, brandishing two short daggers, intending to block Yi Yang's escape route.

They worked well together. Unfortunately, they weren't working with the right people.

The burly man walked up to Yi Yang, raised his broadsword high above his head, and was about to chop down.

Yi Yang's right hand moved.

It wasn't to pick up the knife from the ground.

The short knife hidden under the old blue shirt at the waist was drawn silently.

The blade is narrow and thin; it was a short knife obtained from the two men in the Red Tiger Gang. It's clear that its former owner cherished it greatly, as the edge was polished so fine that it reflected a person's image.

A flash of light.

Cross-section.

A line was cut through the burly man's throat from left to right.

It's not deep, but it's enough.

The sound of a trachea breaking was muffled, similar to stepping on a water-filled sheepskin bag.

The burly man's broadsword paused for a moment above his head, his fingers loosened, and the blade slammed against his own shoulder. He clutched his neck and staggered back two steps, blood spurting from between his fingers and staining half of Yi Yang's sleeve.

The skinny bandit's short dagger was still half a foot away from Yi Yang's nape.

Yi Yang didn't turn around. He leaned to the left, gripped the short knife in his right hand, and thrust the tip backward.

The force was extremely light, almost as light as casually hammering a wooden wedge into a door panel.

But what is the concept of "easy access" in the five levels of Qi and Blood?

The short knife pierced the thin bandit's chest, going in through the front and the tip emerging from his back.

The skinny bandit looked down at the exposed hilt of the knife against his chest, his mouth agape, but he uttered nothing. His legs went weak, and he slid down the blade like a puppet whose strings had been pulled out.

It happened in no more than two breaths.

Two lives were lost.

The courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Yi Yang stood up from the ground, dusted off his buttocks, pulled the short knife from the skinny bandit's chest, and wiped it on the corpse's clothes.

Then he bent down and picked up the knife from the ground.

He looked up and met Jiang Liang's gaze.

Jiang Liang's expression changed.

It wasn't fear. It was shock mixed with anger and a hint of disbelief.

The two henchmen died in two breaths, without even a sound. The old codger who had been slumped on the ground, trembling, stood up straighter than the henchman.

"you--"

Yi Yang didn't give him a chance to finish speaking.

He made the knife.

Nine Peaks Saber, Third Form: Sharp Peak.

The knife moves in a straight line, its tip flicking and spitting, aiming for the vital points.

This slash was aimed at Jiang Liang's throat.

There is no starting stance, no charging up of energy, and no superfluous movements.

The sound of the blade slicing through the air was sharp and short, almost like tearing a piece of silk. Moonlight fell on the blade and was stretched into a white line, the end of which was Jiang Liang's neck.

Jiang Liang was, after all, a steward at the fourth level of Qi and Blood.

At the critical moment, he parried with his narrow-bladed longsword, the belly of the blade facing the edge, the two swords crossing each other in the moonlight.

Ding--

The metal clanged, and two sparks flew out.

Jiang Liang's hand was numb from the shock, and a tingling sensation emanated from the bones in his entire arm. He instinctively leaned back and pulled his neck back.

The blade grazed his chin.

A thin line of blood emerged from the left side of the jaw, not deep, with the skin and flesh turned up half an inch, and droplets of blood rolled down the jawbone and dripped onto the collar.

It's off by half an inch.

If it were just half an inch forward, its head would have been severed.

Jiang Liang's pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints, and a voice screamed in his head: I was almost killed by an old man.

The steward, whose Qi and Blood were at the fourth level, almost died in the first encounter.

This realization made Jiang Liang's blood rush to his head.

"court death!"

He roared, swung his narrow sword backhand, channeling all the power of his fourfold qi and blood into the blade, coating it with a visible layer of qi and blood shimmering light, and slashed towards Yi Yang's face. This strike carried wind pressure, and the fallen leaves in the courtyard were swirled and flew high into the air by the airflow.

Yi Yang didn't answer; he left.

He took three steps back, his body swaying twice, as if he were staggering from exhaustion. The knife in his right hand hung down, the tip dragging on the ground, leaving a shallow mark.

His back was facing Jiang Liang, leaving a large gap exposed.

The old man turned around in a panic, stepping on half a broken brick, and looked like he was about to climb over the wall to escape.

That broad back, completely unguarded, so close.

Jiang Liang's blood and energy surged to their peak.

He was nearly killed when an old man slashed his chin.

If he doesn't swallow this insult, how can Jiang Liang still hold his head high in the Nine Evils Cult?

He chased after him.

He raised the narrow, long sword high above his head and slashed at the fleeing figure. He unleashed his full speed, combining three steps into one, and the sound of the blade cutting through the air tore through the night wind.

The knife was halfway down.

The figure that had been "fleeing in panic" suddenly stopped.

It didn't stop only after it was caught up.

It only stopped when it reached its destination.

Yi Yang turned around so quickly that Jiang Liang's pupils didn't even have time to contract.

Nine Peaks Saber, Fourth Form.

Strange peaks.

Against the grain, the blade arcs upwards from the waist, slicing diagonally upwards.

The moonlight burst into a white rainbow on the blade.

The white rainbow entered Jiang Liang from below his collarbone, slanted across his neck, and exited from behind his ear.

The cut is extremely clean.

Jiang Liang took two steps forward while still in the cleaving stance, his boots scraping two marks on the brick surface.

His head slipped off his neck.

It didn't fly out; it slid down. The cut surface was too smooth; before the blood could even spurt out, the head had already rolled to the base of the wall.

The headless body took another step and a half, then its knees buckled and it collapsed to the ground. The narrow, long sword flew out of its hand and embedded itself in a crack in the courtyard wall, its hilt still humming.

Blood then gushed out.

The courtyard was quiet.

Yi Yang let out a long breath and shook the blood off the knife.

He turned and gave chase, feigning an opening to lure someone into attacking, then finished them off with a single blow.

It took less than ten breaths in total.

save trouble.

The Nine Evil Cult Deacons, possessing the fourth level of Qi and Blood, would normally be troublesome figures. While a head-on confrontation would offer a higher chance of victory, it would inevitably involve exchanging several blows.

Yi Yang didn't have that kind of free time.

Jiang Yuexin is still waiting at home.

He crouched down and quickly examined the three corpses.

The two bandits had little to no money on them, less than five taels of silver in total. Jiang Liang pulled out a leather money pouch from the inner layer of his shirt, weighed it in his hand, and found it to be quite heavy. It contained about twenty taels of silver, a few copper coins, and a secret manual. Yi Yang didn't examine it closely and put it into his pocket.

There is also a token from the Nine Evil Sect, made of bronze and decorated with snake patterns.

Yi Yang glanced at it twice and accepted it, thinking it might come in handy later. He carefully put the silver and the manual away and sheathed his sword.

He climbed over the courtyard wall and continued running towards the small courtyard, hugging the dark eaves.

In the courtyard behind them, three corpses lay in the moonlight.

Jiang Liang's head rolled to the corner of the wall, face up.

His eyes were wide open, his mouth was half-open, and his face still bore the savage look of his furious chase.

He never knew until his death that the "flaw" he was chasing was something someone had deliberately left for him.