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

Feng Haiyuan stared at the corpse embedded in the black iron wall, his throat dry as he thought to himself, "He Jiu is a martial artist at the fifth level of Qi and Blood. In the Nine Evils Cult of Yunlin County, this level of strength is considered quite good. He can usually become a steward, and if he is lucky enough to make contributions, it is not impossible for him to become a Grand Steward."

But what just happened?

One punch.

Just one punch.

He Jiu's chest collapsed, and he flew out without leaving a complete sentence.

His body is still lying slumped in the depression in the black iron prison wall. The depression is not deep, but the material used to build the wall of the high-prison area must be extraordinary.

The strength that Yi Yang just displayed is nowhere near the fifth level of Qi and Blood.

Even if someone with the highest level of Qi and Blood has the upper hand in a battle against someone with the same level of Qi and Blood, they still have to counter each move and see how well they have honed their own Qi and Blood and their foundation. In the end, if things get desperate, they may have to exchange blood and fight to the death.

But the old man in front of me, dressed in the robes of a candidate inspector, didn't even falter in his breathing when he made his move, which meant that he wasn't using his full strength at all.

After thinking everything through, Feng Haiyuan pressed his tongue against his cracked teeth, his eyelids twitched twice, and finally managed to squeeze out a few words from his throat:

"You are not...the fifth level..."

"You are at the sixth level of perfection..."

"How is that possible?"

When he said the last four words, the tone of his voice changed.

It wasn't questioning, it was fear!

Even so, Feng Haiyuan didn't dare to think that Yi Yang's strength was at the Inner Qi Realm; he didn't dare to think about it, nor could he.

What is the Inner Qi Realm?

On the surface, the Yunlin County Astronomical Survey Office consists of Director Qi Shujian and several deputy directors.

The reason why the three major families and three major gangs were able to stand firm was because they had people at the Inner Qi Realm backing them up.

A sixty-year-old jailer? An old guy who pretended to work himself to the bone during the quarterly exams but only got thirteenth place?

Inner Qi Realm?

If this were said out loud, even a dog would shake its head. Feng Haiyuan would rather believe that the other party was at the sixth level of Qi and Blood perfection, or even practiced some secret technique to hide Qi and Blood, than guess in that direction.

Because it was too outrageous, and also because of a sliver of fantasy born from the deepest part of his heart in order to survive, after all, Yi Yang was at the sixth level of Qi and Blood perfection and still had ways to deal with it.

But if the other party really was at the Inner Qi Realm, his life would truly be in danger, so the instinct for survival made Feng Haiyuan unwilling to think in that direction.

Upon hearing Feng Haiyuan's words, the burly man was the first to come to his senses. He glanced at He Jiu's corpse, then at the knife in Yi Yang's hand, and felt a chill run down his spine.

What mission, what Zhang family reward, what Nine Evil Cult backer?

It's all worthless paper. If you lose your life, who will spend the money you burn?

The burly man threw down the iron pliers and, without the slightest hesitation, turned and lunged toward the hidden passage to the side.

His vital energy propelled him to flee, his shoes scraping against the stone slabs, creating a harsh, grating sound.

The other guard, a fourth-level perfected patrolman, reacted quickly as well. As soon as his companion ran, he didn't hesitate and rushed towards the secret passage.

The two men, one in front of the other, looked so disheveled, flustered, and somewhat ridiculous from behind, their desperate desire to survive completely overshadowing their previous composure.

But will Yi Yang let them leave?

Yi Yang moved, his water-crossing technique unfolding beneath his feet. In the dim firelight, Yi Yang's figure swayed, the distance between him and his surroundings compressed into a useless display.

The burly man had only taken three steps when he suddenly felt a chill on the back of his neck.

The next instant, the blade swept across.

The burly man's head flew off, his headless body still in a running posture, staggering forward two steps before collapsing at the entrance of the dark passage.

Blood gushed from the severed neck, splashing onto the wall, steam rose, and the stench filled the nostrils.

The gatekeeper watched as the burly man fell, his legs buckled, and his knees slammed heavily to the ground as he cried out, "Spare me..."

Before he could utter a single word, Yi Yang's blade flashed past, abruptly ending his pleas for mercy. His head rolled to the edge of the iron bars, bumped twice, and then stopped.

The high-security area fell silent again, and three more corpses lay on the ground.

He Jiu, a burly man, was a gatekeeper. Blood flowed down the cracks in the stone, forming a dark red line that circled around Feng Haiyuan's feet.

Only two people are still alive.

Yi Yang stood before Feng Haiyuan, sword in hand, blood dripping from its tip.

Tick.

Tick.

Each strike made Feng Haiyuan's eyelids twitch. Feng Haiyuan stared at Yi Yang for a few breaths, and the fear on his face was slowly suppressed by viciousness.

At this point, why pretend to be tough? If we don't fight back, we'll really die here.

He suddenly chuckled softly, a small laugh that echoed in the cell, sounding terribly unpleasant, like grit rolling in his throat.

"Old man, you're quite the hider."

"The people from the Sky Patrol Bureau have probably been completely fooled by you, haven't they?"

Yi Yang didn't reply, but only slightly raised the tip of his knife towards the other party, but didn't make a move, obviously wanting to see what other tricks the other party had up their sleeve.

Feng Haiyuan's eyes changed color. In his previously murky eyes, which were almost extinguished, a dark red suddenly appeared, not an ordinary bloodshot.

Instead, it was an eerie red that crawled along the whites of the eyes, as if it were alive.

Yi Yang watched this scene without stopping it or making a move, not out of arrogance but out of confidence in his own strength.

Despite being so badly injured, Feng Haiyuan still dared to turn the tables. The Grand Deacon of the Nine Evil Sect must have some special skills.

If we don't look at it now, won't we lack reference when we meet Wang Gongqin in the future?

Blood began to flow on the ground in the high-prison area. Beside He Jiu's body, at the severed neck of the strong man, and beneath the guards, all the flowing blood was drawn by some force, converging towards Feng Haiyuan along the cracks in the stone.

The blood trickled up his ankles, then around his calves, across his waist and abdomen, and finally down to his chest, neck, and cheeks.

Blood streaks crawled across his skin like worms, making one's stomach churn. The remaining blood-suppressing iron wedges on Feng Haiyuan's shoulder blades emitted a faint, trembling sound.

The next moment, the iron wedge was forced out half an inch by the blood-stained pattern.

Feng Haiyuan tilted his head back, letting out a suppressed gasp from his throat. As the blood was injected, his vital energy returned, and his withered body swelled up.

His sunken cheeks regained some color, progressing from severe injury and decline to the fifth level of Qi and Blood, and then to the sixth level.

It didn't stop until the oppressive aura of a sixth-level Qi and Blood Perfection spread out from his body, causing the Xuan Iron prison walls to tremble slightly.

Feng Haiyuan raised his hand, wiped the blood from his mouth, and licked it with his tongue. His red eyes stared at Yi Yang, his hatred almost overflowing from his eyes as he said:

"You have cut off my path to advancing my internal energy."

"Then leave your life behind."

Yi Yang ignored the other party's harsh words, but looked at the blood patterns on his body and gained some understanding of this evil art.

They use the loss of future promotions as a price to achieve a short-term recovery, or even forcibly boost combat power.

The Nine Evil Cult was able to stir up trouble in Yunlin County not because of its empty words.

This thing is really weird.

But that's all there is to it.

Yi Yang stepped forward with his knife, and Feng Haiyuan flicked the bloodline at his feet, lunging forward with his palms carrying a bloody wind and red lines on his palms, striking towards Yi Yang's chest.

Snapped!

Yi Yang blocked with his horizontal sword, the blade colliding with the palm strike, the blood energy exploding into a large cloud of red mist, causing the oil lamp on the wall to flicker wildly.

In Feng Haiyuan's eyes, his palm strike was enough to shatter the sternum of anyone below the sixth level, but the old man behind the knife simply pressed down with his wrist.

The blade remained perfectly still. Upon seeing this, Feng Haiyuan's pupils constricted, but before he could react, Yi Yang's left fist was already upon him.

The punch, though seemingly without a sharp edge, caused the blood-red markings covering Feng Haiyuan's entire body to tremble violently.

boom!

Like lightning, Yi Yang's fist struck, landing in his opponent's abdomen.

Feng Haiyuan's back arched, and he flew sideways, crashing into the black iron wall, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

But before the blood he spat out could even hit the ground, Yi Yang was already upon him, giving him no chance whatsoever.

The first peak of the Nine Peaks Blade is a thick peak. Its downward force is not fast, but it cannot be avoided.

Feng Haiyuan could only raise his arms and cross them to try and block the blow.

Click.

The bones in his two forearms made a sickening cracking sound.

The second peak, a precipitous one, saw the blade deflect, slipping through the gaps in the defenses and grazing Feng Haiyuan's ribs.

The skin and flesh rolled back, and blood splattered everywhere.

The third peak, the sharp peak, is like a blade aimed at the throat, aimed straight for the opponent's life, leaving no chance whatsoever, each strike fatal.

Feng Haiyuan roared and forced his head to the side. The tip of the knife sliced ​​across his neck, leaving a deep gash. He grabbed Yi Yang's shoulder with his backhand, his five fingers bulging with blood-red veins, and his fingertips faintly glowing with blood.

If caught firmly, half of a martial artist at the sixth level of the Qi and Blood Realm would be torn off.

But after Yi Yang mastered the skill of crossing the river by skimming the water, his close-range maneuvering was no longer just about dodging.

He moved aside, his clothes torn, but he had already turned to the side and behind.

A punch landed.

boom!

Feng Haiyuan was punched in the back, and a popping sound came from his spine. He fell to the ground, but was forcibly supported by the blood pattern and got up.

He didn't believe it.

He really didn't believe it.

He used the secret technique of severing the path to temporarily return to the sixth level of Qi and Blood perfection.

With internal energy, who could possibly defeat him like that?

Feng Haiyuan slammed his palms on the ground, causing the blood to swirl up and transform into bloody tendrils that wrapped around Yi Yang's legs.

Yi Yang didn't even glance at it. He gently released his inner energy from the soles of his feet, and before the blood rope could even get close, it was shattered into mist by the invisible force of his energy.

Upon witnessing this scene, Feng Haiyuan was completely stunned. He could no longer deceive himself; this method spoke volumes.

This is not qi and blood.

This is not force.

This is……

"Internal energy!"

Feng Haiyuan was kicked away by Yi Yang, his back slammed against the wall, clutching his still bleeding stomach, and he slid down against the wall.

He stared intently at Yi Yang, and for the first time, his eyes, which had always been confident, sinister, and manipulative, were filled with nothing but fearful panic as he said:

"You're at the Inner Qi Realm!"

"You're actually at the Inner Qi Realm!"

"A mere Inner Qi Realm cultivator coming here to be a jailer? Are you out of your mind?!"

Feng Haiyuan's voice cracked when he shouted the last sentence.

This is truly unbelievable. What kind of expert at the Inner Qi Realm would wear the official robes of an old jailer and pretend to be at the fourth level of Qi and Blood in the South City Jail?

Seeing that the other party was almost unable to resist, Yi Yang sheathed his sword and stood three steps away from him, finally speaking: "Want to live? I have a question for you, answer me properly!"

Feng Haiyuan was panting heavily; the blood patterns on his face were beginning to fade. The price of the secret technique had arrived.

This evil skill won't last long.

Yi Yang looked at him and asked in a steady tone, "Where is Wang Gongqin?"

Upon hearing this, Feng Haiyuan's eyes darted around. His previous ruthlessness was replaced by a survival instinct. He knelt down with a thud, his knees slamming together until blood splattered, and begged for mercy, "I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"Lord Yi, please don't kill me! I know where Wang Gongqin is!"

"I'll tell you anything if you let me go!"

"I can tell you everything about the Nine Evils' secret contacts in Yunlin County, and how the Zhang family contacted us!"

"I swear! I swear on the nine founders of the heretical sects!"

Yi Yang looked at him without replying. Feng Haiyuan was crying with snot, tears and blood mixed in, looking terrible.

But those eyes kept darting left and right, clearly indicating that he had many thoughts on his mind and was not sincerely begging for mercy.

Looking for a way out? Looking for a weakness? Looking for words to stall for time?

Yi Yang had seen too many people like this. Sun Mazi had begged for help before he died, Yang Er had been afraid, and Tang Hao was even better at acting.

As these people are dying, the words they utter are even more filthy than rice mixed with sand on the black market.

It was clear from this that Feng Haiyuan had no idea where Wang Gongqin was; he just wanted to survive.

Since that's the case, Yi Yang raised his knife. Upon seeing this, Feng Haiyuan cried out in terror, "No! I really know!"

"Wang Gongqin is here..."

Before he could finish speaking, Yi Yang began circulating his Qi in his body.

The internal energy flowed into the blade along the arm.

The blade hummed softly.

The Perfect Nine Peaks Blade, the ninth strike.

Absolute peak.

This strike lacked the complex variations of the previous eight techniques.

There were no extra movements.

Converge, compress, and slash.

The blade's edge departed.

Seeing that Yi Yang had no intention of letting him go, Feng Haiyuan's eyes blazed red. He slammed his hands on the ground, and blood patterns surged all over his body, turning the blood beneath his feet into a blood shield.

The blood shield had barely formed when the blade's edge arrived.

There was no stalemate.

There was no pulling or tugging.

The blood shield split apart.

Feng Haiyuan's palms, chest, and neck were also separated by the same line. He stared wide-eyed, his remaining pleas for mercy stuck in his throat, unable to be uttered.

His body fell backward and he landed in a pool of blood.

Feng Haiyuan, the Grand Deacon of the Nine Evil Cults, is dead.

Inside the high-crime area, the firelight flickered, and the black iron walls were covered with knife marks, fist marks, and bloodstains.

Yi Yang stood before the corpse, the tip of his knife hanging low, his official robes soaked in blood, yet his breathing remained perfectly steady.

The six levels of Qi and Blood are fully realized.

It sounds scary, but compared to a true master of internal energy cultivation, they are far inferior.

It's inside or outside the door.

One is still fighting desperately with his own flesh and blood; the other can already kill with his internal energy leaving his body.

This is the overwhelming power of a higher level.

There's no need to reason with them.

Yi Yang glanced down at Feng Haiyuan's corpse, then at the bloodstains scattered on the ground.

The trail to Wang Gongqin has gone cold, but the fact that the Zhang family has extended their reach into the South City prison is now a done deal.

And his letter should have reached Chen Wuyai's desk by now; this matter is definitely not over yet.

Yi Yang wiped the blood off the knife and turned to walk outside.

Above the stone steps, the chaos hadn't completely subsided, but it was already nearly over.

Yi Yang arrived at the ground of the South City Prison. In the distance, the firelight of Yunlin County finally pierced through the night and came into Yi Yang's view.

Watching this scene, he muttered to himself, "As expected, the Zhang family's methods are not so simple!"

As Yi Yang sighed, the sound of several horses could be heard ahead of him on the main road of the South City Prison.