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

Yi Yang stood up from the futon, walked behind the desk, bent down and pulled open the hidden compartment, his fingers reaching in to find the letter pressed under the paperweight.

The letter contained content that had been written beforehand:

"Recent inspections have revealed suspicious behavior among some personnel in certain positions within the prison, raising suspicions of infiltration by external forces. The specific details are still under verification, and this report is hereby submitted for record-keeping."

Having said what needed to be said, and refraining from mentioning things that were difficult to explain himself, Yi Yang rolled up the letter tightly, then turned and opened the window.

A pigeon coop, made of woven bamboo strips, hung outside the window, with two gray-feathered homing pigeons inside.

This is a standard communication tool issued by the Sky Patrol Office to the heads of various departments. It is used to transmit non-urgent but document-keeping official documents on a regular basis.

Yi Yang opened the cage door, reached in and scooped out a pigeon. The pigeon fluttered twice in his palm before he gently grasped its wing root.

With his other hand, he tied the letter tube to the pigeon's leg, and after tying it, he patted the pigeon's head.

"Go."

The homing pigeon flapped its wings and darted out of the window, its gray silhouette tracing an arc in the night sky before being swallowed up by the inky blackness of the heavens.

Yi Yang stared at the direction where the pigeons disappeared for a couple of breaths. He had done what he needed to do. As for what to do after receiving the news, that was Chen Wuyai's business.

All Yi Yang had to do was one thing—clean up the mess in the prison before reinforcements arrived.

Just as Yi Yang closed the window bolt, there was a knock on the door of the duty room.

Without pausing, Yi Yang casually pulled his official robes off the back of the chair, draping them over his body while simultaneously controlling his internal energy.

Peak of Qi and Blood in Four Stages.

Arriving at the door, he unlatched it. Standing outside was a guard in the uniform of the Sky Patrol Division. Yi Yang recognized this face during the day; it belonged to one of the eight who had infiltrated the area. He was at the fifth level of Qi and Blood, and one of only two among the eight to reach the Refining Realm.

"It's so late, what can't you say tomorrow?"

Yi Yang rubbed his eyes and pretended to be annoyed at being disturbed.

The guard outside the door quickly clasped his hands in a fist salute, his face showing great anxiety, and said with remarkable acting skill:

"Lord Yi! There's something unusual happening in the lower levels of the prison. The guards on patrol reported hearing strange noises!"

Yi Yang frowned, feigning surprise, and said, "That shouldn't be the case? Which direction?"

"The situation on the underground level is unclear."

"Where is the duty officer?"

The guard swallowed hard. "The squad leader went to investigate, but he hasn't returned yet. I dare not make a decision on my own, so I've come to ask you, sir, for a decision."

Seeing this, Yi Yang pondered for a few moments, then nodded and said, "Then let's go, take me to see what's going on."

Yi Yang walked in front, with the guard half a step behind him. The two of them walked down the stone steps to the lower level of the prison. The lights in the corridor had dimmed considerably.

Yi Yang's internal energy spread within a three-zhang radius, and he could sense every change in the blood and qi of the person behind him.

Three steps, two steps, one step.

Upon arrival, the air behind him was suddenly torn apart, and a fist wind carrying the full power of the fifth level of Qi and Blood Refining Realm slammed towards the back of Yi Yang's head.

That punch was fast and ruthless, with a tricky angle, and it was the full force of a fifth-level Qi and Blood expert.

If hit, even a martial artist at the fifth level of Qi and Blood would have their skull shattered and die on the spot.

Moreover, Yi Yang, a fourth-level Qi and Blood cultivator, was the one who launched the sneak attack. A cold smile appeared on the corner of the guard's mouth; he was determined to win this attack.

Then his smile froze on his face, because the aged figure had vanished from his sight just before his fist touched him.

The fist whistled past Yi Yang's eyes, the wind it generated brushing against his eyelashes.

Just as the guard made his move, Yi Yang suddenly dodged to the side, watching the fist appear right in front of him. This sight caused the guard's pupils to shrink.

But before he could even retract his fist, a hand reached out from the side, fingers spread, and precisely grabbed his outstretched arm.

The knuckles close together, clamping like iron clamps—no, even more terrifying than iron clamps.

When pliers clamp something, they might at most cause bruises on the skin, but the force from that hand directly squeezed his metacarpal bones together.

"Crunch."

The sound of bones cracking escaped from between the fingers, fine and continuous, much like chewing peanut shells.

The moment the pain shot through him, the guard who had launched the sneak attack twisted his face in agony.

It wasn't just the intense pain, but also the overwhelming, unconcealed horror within me.

The owner of that hand should have been an old man with a strong Qi and Blood Qi, but the power coming from it was like squeezing his bones like tofu.

Yi Yang grabbed his forearm with his left hand and twisted his wrist.

A muffled thud echoed through the empty corridor. It wasn't the crisp "crack" sound, but rather the sound of fascia tearing and bone fragments dislocating and tangling together—it sounded painful.

Before the guard's scream could even escape his throat, Yi Yang had already loosened his fist and turned his right hand to grab his neck.

With his fingers clenched, he was lifted off the ground, his back slamming against the wall with a thud, and stone dust fell down in a shower.

The guard treaded on the ground with his feet dangling in the air, his severed right arm hanging at his side at an odd angle. He desperately tried to pry open Yi Yang's fingers with his only remaining left hand.

But they couldn't pry them off at all; those five fingers were like they were attached to his neck, completely immobile.

The trachea was compressed to a large extent, and air could only squeeze into the lungs through a narrow gap, making a hissing bellows sound.

The guard stared wide-eyed at the face before him. In the dim light, there was no anger, no murderous intent, not even a flicker of emotion on that face.

It was so calm, so calm it sent chills down my spine.

With his last ounce of strength, he managed to squeeze out a few broken syllables from his choked throat.

"You...aren't...Quadra..."

Yi Yang looked at him calmly and asked, "What are you expecting?"

With that, he exerted a slight force with his wrist, and the crisp sound of his cervical spine breaking echoed sharply in the empty corridor.

The moment his neck was snapped, the guard's pupils became dilated and lost all light.

The other person's body went limp, hanging on Yi Yang's hand like dried bacon.

Seeing that the infiltrated guard was dead, Yi Yang let go. The body slid down the wall and fell to the ground, its head resting on its shoulder at an abnormal angle.

Yi Yang looked down at his right palm, which was clean and dry, without even a red mark.

He crouched down and searched the body, finding a small copper whistle, about the length of a palm, sealed at both ends with a small hole in the middle, used as a coded signal device. There was nothing of value besides that.

Yi Yang clutched the bronze whistle in his hand and was about to get up when the ground beneath his feet suddenly trembled.

Immediately afterwards, muffled explosions came from multiple locations simultaneously; not just one place, but several places exploded at the same time.

Dust fell softly from the cracks in the rocks above, landing on Yi Yang's shoulders.

A blaze of fire shot into the sky from the direction of the ground floor prison area, and an orange-red light surged from the end of the corridor, turning the dark stone walls blood red.

The sound of metal whistling as the prison door was violently smashed open, screams, roars, and the clanging of weapons clashing.

Several sounds mingled together, exploding simultaneously from all directions of the South City Prison. A guard on the upper level roared out half a sentence: "Someone has escaped—"

The second half was abruptly cut off by the dull thud of a weapon piercing flesh. Further away, the released prisoner roared with maniacal laughter: "I'm free! Hahahaha!"

The crackling sound of chains dragging on the stone slabs, the dull thud of bones breaking—it was impossible to tell whose bones were shattering…

The entire southern city prison was thrown into complete chaos.

Upon seeing this, Yi Yang's eyes narrowed. He drew the sword from his waist, its blade gleaming coldly in the firelight. He did not go upstairs, nor did he retreat towards the main gate.

Yi Yang continued down the stone steps toward the high-security prison where Feng Haiyuan was being held.

Just as I turned the first corner, I bumped into three people.

The shirtless, burly man at the head of the group was clutching a short knife with bloodstains on the hilt, which appeared to have been taken from a prison guard.

The burly man, radiating a frenzied energy born of a near-death experience, saw Yi Yang in his official robes, his eyes turning bloodshot, and roared as he slashed at him.

Yi Yang immediately dodged to the side, the blade grazing the hem of his clothes and missing its mark. He then slashed horizontally with his right hand, unleashing the move "Sharp Peak," the force penetrating through the air. The blade entered from the left side of the big man's neck and exited from the right.

Before the blood could even spurt out, Yi Yang had already stepped forward and slashed at the second person, using the "Thick Peak" move to press down.

The blade cleaved the second man's shoulder blade from top to bottom. Before the man could even let out a scream, he was slammed to the ground by the immense force.

Turn your blade to meet the attack of the third person who rushes up, and use "Perilous Peak" to counterattack.

The third man's wrist flew off along with the dagger, the blade still tumbling in the air, as Yi Yang's finishing blow pierced his chest.

The three corpses fell to the ground one after another, within two breaths. Yi Yang lifted his foot and stepped over the corpses, continuing down.

In the semi-underground martial arts prison area, someone is opening a cell door.

An undercover agent stood with his back to the corridor, fiddling with an iron lock with a key in his hand, while two martial arts prisoners who had just been released stood beside him.

One was bald with tattoos, the other had a thick beard; their prison clothes were tattered, but their aura was strong.

The two, both at the peak of the third level, had been imprisoned for an unknown period of time, and their eyes were filled with murderous intent.

Yi Yang's boots made a sound on the stone slab, and the lurking man turned around abruptly.

Upon seeing the official robes splattered with blood and the still-dripping sword, his pupils constricted sharply.

Didn't the second brother already make his move? How come this old man is still alive?

But there was no time to think; he shouted, "Stop him!"

In order to escape, two martial arts prisoners saw Yi Yang in his official robes and rushed towards him with shouts. The anger that had been pent up in the prison for countless days finally found an outlet, and the two attacked from the left and right.

Yi Yang Dao followed a "strange peak" path, his figure rushing forward in an uncanny way, completely opposite to the normal combat route, advancing instead of retreating.

The bald man's fist was only halfway through its swing when the blade pierced through the gap in his defense, the tip lightly touching his Adam's apple.

Blood spurted out!!!

The remaining bearded man, horrified, instinctively retreated, only managing to turn halfway around.

With a swift movement of his feet, Yi Yang appeared behind him, his sword piercing through his back and protruding from his chest, along with a piece of cloth.

Yi Yang drew his sword, and the bearded man fell to the ground. Seeing this, the lurker had already thrown away his key and ran away.

Yi Yang did not give chase. With a flick of his right hand, he sent his sword flying. The blade spun in the humid air, emitting a short hum, and precisely pierced the back of the lurking man.

The man stumbled forward two steps, kneeling on the ground and slumping against the iron railing. Yi Yang walked over, pulled out his knife, and casually stabbed the man in the neck.

After walking another dozen or so steps, a faint voice came from an open cell on the left, pleading for help: "Help...help me..."

Hearing the sound, Yi Yang stopped and turned to look inside. A prison guard on duty was huddled behind the cell door.

Half of his face was burned by the firelight, the skin and flesh peeling back, while the other half was deathly pale. He crouched in the corner, clutching his head, trembling like a leaf.

Yi Yang reached out and pulled open the iron gate, leaned inside, and dragged the person out. When the jailer saw who it was, tears immediately streamed down his face, and he didn't even bother to wipe his snot.

"M-My lord! My lord, you're still alive!"

His voice trembled violently, his upper and lower teeth chattered, and he continued, his words incoherent:

"They've gone mad...killing and burning everywhere...Chen San and Lao Liu are both dead...blood...it's all blood..."

Yi Yang helped him to the corner of the wall, pressed his shoulders to make him sit down and comforted him, "Don't move, stay here quietly and wait for reinforcements."

The jailer gripped Yi Yang's sleeve tightly, refusing to let go, his face streaked with a mixture of blood and tears as he cried out, "..."

"My lord... please don't go down... there are still people down there... they're after that Grand Deacon of the Nine Evil Sect..."

Yi Yang patted the back of his hand to indicate that he knew: "I know."

He pried the guard's hand off his sleeve, stood up, and, carrying his blood-dripping sword, continued walking towards the high-security area.

Behind him came the sound of a jailer sobbing uncontrollably. Yi Yang didn't turn around. The two black iron gates at the end of the corridor leading to the hardened criminal area had been half-opened from the outside.

A dark red light shone through the crack in the door, illuminating Yi Yang's face and revealing a pair of extremely calm eyes.

He gripped the knife hilt and stepped inside.