Wandering Swordsman |

When his hands touched the cold, rough shaft of the staff, a huge and greedy suction force suddenly erupted! It was as if countless invisible tentacles were emerging from the staff, frantically sucking up the true energy within his body.

Zhao Zihan groaned, his face turning ashen at a visible speed, large beads of sweat mixed with blood rolling down his forehead.

He gritted his teeth, his arms bulging with veins, and poured the last of his internal energy into the staff like a burst dam.

The black iron base emitted a piercing "creaking" sound, and the Martial God Staff was finally slowly pulled up, freed from its restraints.

"Hahaha! I finally got it!" The Immortal Child laughed wildly, snatching the heavy black stick, completely ignoring Zhao Zihan's exhausted and swaying body.

He raised the Martial God Staff high, its body gleaming with a dark light, and a faint thunderous sound echoed in the stone chamber.

"I've taken the stick out, now you should let us leave!" Zhao Zihan reminded them in a tone that was authoritative despite his extreme weakness.

The Immortal Child looked at the weak Zhao Zihan, a chilling contempt and cruelty curling at the corner of his lips, as if looking down at an ant. His eyes gleamed with a childlike purity, yet a terrifying malice. "When did I ever say I'd let you leave?"

Before the words were even finished, the heavy Martial God Staff, carrying immense force and accompanied by a piercing whistling sound, slammed down with the Immortal Child's almost ghostly movements! The target was not Zhao Zihan, but the group of terrified and desperate Diancang disciples behind him!

"No—!" Zhao Zihan roared with her last bit of strength, but could only watch helplessly as the dark figure fell.

"Bang!" A dull, heart-stopping thud. A disciple's head exploded like a ripe watermelon, red and white splattering everywhere. Then came the second, the third... The Immortal Child wielded the Martial God Staff as if it were a toy, turning it into the Grim Reaper's scythe, mercilessly reaping young lives.

Screams, the cracking of bones, and the splattering of blood mingled together, creating a mournful symphony of death within the sealed stone chamber.

Only when the last disciple fell into a pool of blood did the Immortal Child reluctantly stop.

He looked down at his hands, which were stained with blood and brains, and a pure, innocent smile returned to his face, as if the massacre just now was just a harmless game among children.

He turned around and looked at Zhao Zihan, who was the only survivor and had completely lost consciousness from anger, and gently lifted the other's chin with the tip of the stick.

"Elder Zhao, the martial world is ultimately a dog-eat-dog world." His voice was gentle, like soothing a sleeping baby. "Now, it's your turn."

The Martial God Staff was raised high again, this time with the determination to end everything, and slammed down hard on Zhao Zihan's crown!

......

The scene shifts to the Thresh Gate passageway.

The Hammerstone Passage is deep and winding, with dents left by giant hammers on the stone walls on both sides. The heavy hammer shadows seem to solidify a tremendous force, and the air feels stagnant because of this omnipresent sense of "heaviness".

Elder Luo Yinan led five Diancang disciples forward slowly. He was not tall, with a thin face, but his eyes were like a deep pool, calm yet shrewd.

He spent many years handling external affairs for the Diancang Sect, dealing with merchants, brokers, and even people from all walks of life. This experience honed his ability to see through people's true intentions and true intentions—an intuition honed through countless deceitful transactions, sharper than martial arts skills and more reliable than experience.

The Thousand-Faced Demon arrived at the spacious hall where the Martial God's Hammer was planted earlier. He was tall and thin, with a face as pale as paper, and his features seemed to distort slightly with the light and shadow, like a mask that could be changed at any time.

He stood before the Martial God's Hammer, deeply embedded in basalt—the hammer was entirely dark green, its head as thick as a mountain, its surface covered with cracked, dark gold patterns, and its handle wrapped with dark red silk ribbons, as if soaked in the blood and tears of countless enemies.

Seeing Elder Luo arrive with several disciples in the hall where the Martial God Hammer was located, the Thousand-Faced Demon's voice, sometimes male and sometimes female, wavering and uncertain, carried a deliberately crafted intimacy, "Elder Luo, you've come at the right time."

"This is the Martial God's Hammer, weighing over a thousand pounds. Only those with great perseverance and extraordinary luck can obtain it. I observe that the elder possesses an extraordinary bearing and must be a person chosen by heaven. Why not give it a try? If you can pull it out, this hammer will belong to the elder!"

He spoke gently, his posture was humble, and he even bowed slightly, as if he were sincerely offering a treasure.

However, in the instant he bowed, his peripheral vision swept over the disciples behind Luo Yinan like a venomous snake, and a subtle, almost imperceptible calculation flashed deep within his eyes.

Luo Yinan did not respond immediately. He slowly walked forward, his gaze seemingly focused on the Martial God Hammer, but in reality, it spread out like a spider web, capturing every subtle movement and every fluctuation of the Thousand-Faced Demon's expression.

Why would an overseas heretical cultivator so easily hand over a divine weapon? This is illogical, just like those quack doctors in the market who boast of "curing all diseases"—the more extravagant their claims, the more deceptive they seem.

Furthermore, the angle of his bow and the soft tone of his voice all seemed like a carefully rehearsed performance, rather than genuine respect. True strength, even in disguise, cannot conceal the arrogance in its bones. But the Thousand-Faced Demon's "humility" was too perfect, as perfect as a mask.

"I appreciate your kind offer," Luo Yinan finally spoke, his voice calm and even, as if discussing a trivial business deal. "However, this hammer is as heavy as a mountain, not something that can be easily lifted by human strength. I know that I am not skilled enough and may disgrace this divine weapon. I would prefer that you accept it." He shook his head slightly, took a step back, and his hand had already quietly rested on the hilt of the longsword at his waist, his muscles tense like a bowstring.

The "gentle" mask on the Thousand-Faced Demon's face shattered instantly, a flash of astonishment and malice at being exposed crossing his eyes. "Hmph!" he sneered, his voice suddenly turning sharp, like the hooting of a night owl, "Since you don't know what's good for you, then don't blame me for being ruthless!" Before the words were finished, he sprang up like a ghost, his target not Luo Yinan, but a slightly slower-reacting young disciple behind him—Zhang Xiaoshi!

"really!"

The last trace of doubt in Luo Yinan's heart completely vanished.

This transformation is too fast and too deliberate! From "humbly offering treasures" to "fierce coercion," it's like turning the pages of a book—a typical tactic used by street ruffians to collect debts and gamblers to turn their backs! These overseas evil cultivators don't understand the code of the martial world at all; they only understand the most primitive and despicable "survival of the fittest" and "using power to oppress others," just like those unscrupulous merchants who would tear off their masks for a little bit of profit!

"Stop!" Luo Yinan shouted sharply, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and determination. He knew he couldn't hesitate now, or his disciple's life would be in danger, and the whole operation would be lost! He took a sudden step forward, and at the same time, his right hand flashed as he drew his longsword from his waist. The sword light swept out like a bolt of lightning, aimed directly at the Thousand-Faced Demon's wrist holding the knife! This sword strike was called "Severing Gold," a deadly move from the Diancang Sect's "Breaking Waves Sword Technique" specifically designed to break weapons and save lives. It was fast, accurate, and ruthless, carrying an unstoppable momentum!