Four iron chains, two above and two below, one for each limb, allowing no passage for those with poor Qinggong or insufficient courage, for below lay a dark, bottomless chasm where a fall meant certain death.

He skimmed across the chains like a water strider, speeding towards the platform on the opposite peak. Behind him, shouts of rage, the clang of swords, and dull, heavy impacts echoed one after another.

Yang Zhong was chilled by the sheer force of Li Muzhan’s martial arts; such a tempestuous assault, and he himself would surely have perished. Yet, that slender old man was also a formidable figure, sustaining only minor injuries, not immediately dying.

He rallied his spirit, unleashing his sword like a hanging waterfall, a cascade of clear light bearing down on the slender old man, choking off his breath.

The slender elder was no pushover. Though his shoulder was wounded, his sword light remained razor-sharp, like a venomous serpent striking. Yang Zhong had to steel himself, moving with utmost caution as the two locked into combat.

The chains spanned perhaps two hundred meters. Li Muzhan had reached halfway when a tall, imposing elder suddenly emerged from the platform. He had silver hair, a dazzling white beard, and an infant-like face, with eyes radiating piercing light.

Li Muzhan noticed with a glance that this man bore some resemblance to Nie Wangqiu.

"Heh, what manner of petty thief dares trespass upon my Five Peaks Mountain!" the elder sneered, slowly drawing his sword, then tapping his toes onto the chains, standing directly upon the upper two.

His figure shot forward as if his soles were geared, reaching Li Muzhan in an instant, swinging a blinding array of cold light to envelop him.

Li Muzhan planted his feet firmly, wielding a sword in each hand. The sword lights rained down like scattered starlight, engaging the elder in a fierce struggle. "Clang, clang, clang, clang..." the sound of swords striking was impossibly rapid, denser than rain beating on banana leaves.

Li Muzhan’s dual swords formed two coiling dragons, protecting his person while simultaneously driving forward like a bulldozer. Even with the elder’s dense sword light, he could not pierce Li Muzhan’s defense.

One advancing, one retreating, Li Muzhan walked steadily forward, his feet like suction cups. The iron chains swayed precariously, shaking continuously, yet both men remained perfectly balanced.

Li Muzhan pressed forward while observing his surroundings, a sense of urgency building within him. If he delayed any longer, the masters from the other three peaks would arrive to support the defense; further delay was simply intolerable.

He let out a deep grunt, and the sword light suddenly surged, pouring out like an explosion.

The elder felt the fierce increase in cold light, countless sword strikes stabbing towards him. He was forced to retreat, falling back two zhang. Just as he prepared a counterattack, another wave of cold light assaulted his vision.

Helpless, he could only continue to fall back—retreating again and again. Li Muzhan’s offense was like a furious, crashing tide, wave upon wave, each more powerful than the last, relentlessly forcing the elder backward.

Soon, the two traversed the chains and reached the platform.

"Fierce bald donkey, take this strike!" the elder roared suddenly, disregarding the momentum of Li Muzhan’s swords. His defensive screen of sword light abruptly coalesced into a single thrust, aimed directly at the heart.

Li Muzhan retracted his left sword to guard his chest while continuing to swing his right.

……………………………………………………, with a sharp "Ding...", the Phoenix Cry Sword deflected the blow, striking his chest, while the Dragon Roar Sword pierced the elder’s shoulder. Both men staggered back a step simultaneously.

Li Muzhan ignored the pain in his chest; that particular strike had perfectly intercepted the opponent's sword tip. Had it not, that thrust would have skewered him, and even the protection of the Vajra Undying Divine Art might not have prevented injury.

The elder, struck in the right shoulder, snatched his sword with his left hand and thrust forward. It was like a streak of lightning flashing past, instantly arriving before Li Muzhan, allowing no room for evasion.

Li Muzhan thrust out a palm. "Ding!" like metal striking metal, his palm met the sword tip, yet he was entirely unharmed, leaving only a faint white mark on his palm.

He paused in surprise, and the opponent did too, but Li Muzhan reacted with incredible speed, pressing forward into the contact, pushing against the elder’s chest and sending him flying backward.

Li Muzhan sighed inwardly. He hadn't realized that under the Great Ming King Sutra, the Dragon Slaying Hand had become terrifyingly potent. The Vajra Undying Divine Art, the Great Ming King Sutra, combined with the innate power of the Dragon Slaying Hand itself—the convergence made the Dragon Slaying Hand impervious to blades and spears.

The elder smashed heavily against the stone wall behind him and slid down slowly, blood welling from the corner of his mouth. Clearly, he would not survive; the pressure from the Dragon Slaying Hand had driven his internal energy directly into his meridians, severing his life force.

Li Muzhan approached the stone wall and reached out to touch it. Suddenly, with a deep "Rumble," an opening appeared in the wall, roughly the height of a man.

Two long cries echoed. Li Muzhan turned to look: two elders in white robes were flying across the chains towards him. Li Muzhan ignored everything else and plunged directly inside.

The interior was dark. Li Muzhan closed his eyes immediately, his feet moving swiftly along the undulating passage. Though pitch black, the ventilation was surprisingly good.

Li Muzhan had only one thought: kill Nie Wangqiu. He paid no mind to the pursuers; all that mattered was eliminating Nie Wangqiu.

Under the Eye of the Void, he saw Nie Wangqiu sitting cross-legged on a stone, facing a smooth wall upon which were carved images and inscriptions.

Li Muzhan focused his senses. The images depicted a person wielding a sword, displaying eighteen different postures. Beside them were a few lines of cryptic verse.

Li Muzhan used his multitasking ability, burning these imprints into his memory before slowly taking in the details. These images and texts had all been carved by fingertip force; the Dao energy was ancient and desolate, suggesting the writer was an old man.

The two elders behind him stopped at the cave entrance, hesitating, stamping their feet but daring not step inside. Li Muzhan instantly understood: there must be a rule in the Changbai Sword Sect that forbade entry to anyone except the Sect Master.

He immediately relaxed, inwardly chuckling at fate’s assistance.

He accelerated his movement, drifting like a phantom to the stone chamber where Nie Wangqiu was located, and lunged straight toward him.

Nie Wangqiu turned, saw him, and seemed startled, then sneered, "A skilled brat, to manage to break through to this place!"

His body flickered, and he sprang up, evading Li Muzhan's right palm, and simultaneously scattering a sheet of sword light as he turned to flee, intending to escape.

Li Muzhan flickered, blocking his path, his right hand sweeping his sword into a shroud of clear light descending upon Nie Wangqiu.

……………………………………………………………… "Clang, clang, clang, clang..." Their long swords met.

Nie Wangqiu continually retreated, his face filled with alarm. It had only been a few days, yet Li Muzhan seemed like a different person; his power had multiplied several times over, actually surpassing his own.

He roared in anger, his sword light erupting like an expanding balloon; the power in his blade doubled instantly.

Li Muzhan knew he was employing a secret technique, burning his reserves to overdraft his potential. This method was faster than the Great Ming King Sutra and completed in a flash.

Annoyed, he snorted, his mind flashing to the situation outside: four elders were gathered at the cave entrance, stamping their feet in anxious fury, yet unwilling to enter.

"Clang, clang, clang..." a series of clear ringing sounds erupted again. Now, with his power enhanced, Nie Wangqiu was on equal footing with Li Muzhan.

Li Muzhan muttered that he didn't know what secret art this was; it seemed none of the Seven Great Sects could be underestimated. Growing anxious, he knew he had to use an unorthodox stratagem.

He deployed a move of mutual destruction, ignoring the opponent's sword strikes and attacking relentlessly.

After dozens of exchanges, he suddenly flung his left hand out.

With a soft "Hiss," the sword light vanished instantly. Nie Wangqiu froze, staring blankly at Li Muzhan, then looked down at the bloody hole in his chest, his face etched with disbelief.

Li Muzhan’s Yellow Dragon Flying Dagger, at this range, was faster than lightning and unavoidable.

He gently pushed his long sword forward through the existing wound, masking the trace of the flying dagger, then drew the blade back, shaking it once before sheathing it.

He casually flicked his sleeve, and the flying dagger slipped from the stone wall into his sleeve.

He glanced back at the stone wall, smiled faintly, and suddenly took flight. With both palms sweeping flatly, stone dust rained down. The Dragon Slaying Hand smoothed the wall in moments, making it as smooth as a mirror.

"Slew Nie Wangqiu here!" He carved six large characters across the air with his index finger, the sword qi hissing audibly, then turned to leave.

His Eye of the Void had already assessed that this stone wall was the only treasure; there was nothing else of value.

He turned and rushed out of the chamber, heading for the exit. Martial Uncle Hua and the others were already entangled outside; if he wanted to escape, he had to rely on himself.

His figure flashed like lightning, accelerating continuously, faster and faster, rocketing out like a cannonball toward the cave entrance and the iron chains beyond.

"Good thief, it’s him!" An elder roared, striking out with phantom palms.

Li Muzhan shuddered, spitting out a jet of blood, but his speed only increased. He transferred the momentum of the vast palm force to his feet, propelling himself like an arrow toward the opposite side, barely touching the iron chains once.

……………………………………………………, the four elders chased relentlessly, occasionally striking out with phantom palms or flinging their long swords. Li Muzhan borrowed strength from each strike, spitting out four streams of blood in quick succession.

He was supremely skilled at converting kinetic energy, absorbing almost all the incoming palm force as impetus, venting the loss through the blood spray, ensuring his body remained uninjured.

He accelerated continually, crossing the chains in moments. He shouted, "Master, let's go!"

As he swept past the small courtyard, he saw Yang Zhong charging out, followed by the slender old man, his sword light shimmering like snow, pursuing Yang Zhong fiercely.

Li Muzhan flicked his index finger in mid-air. The (Canghai Divine Sword) shot forth, cold and substantial. The elder was forced to stop, waving his sword to block the Canghai Divine Sword.

The others rushed out one after another, each with a pursuer tailing them.

Li Muzhan shouted loudly, "Martial Grand-master, Martial Uncle, everyone, hurry! I will cover the rear!"

Abbess Zhuzhao saw Li Muzhan moving his ten fingers, sword qi crisscrossing, holding off the five elders, and quickly commanded, "Listen to Zhanran, let's go!"

They fled down the mountain. By then, the four original pursuers had been joined by others chasing out of the small courtyard, bringing the total number of pursuers to nine.

Li Muzhan remained behind the group, unleashing the Canghai Divine Sword with both hands, sweeping it across the void towards the nine elders. Streaks of sword qi crisscrossed, forming a dense net of blades.

Although the lightness skill of Abbess Zhuzhao and the others was excellent, the nine elders pursuing them were not slow either, staying right on their heels. If not for the obstruction of Li Muzhan’s sword qi, they would have already surrounded them.

Thus ensued a chase—one fleeing, the others pursuing—stretching more than ten li down from the Long White Sword Peak.

Li Muzhan continuously deployed the Canghai Divine Sword, suppressing the nine elders so they could not get close. Under the power of the Great Ming King Sutra, the might of the Canghai Divine Sword was even greater.

"Gentlemen, you cannot even see through such a simple diversionary tactic, ha ha ha..." Li Muzhan suddenly laughed and shook his head.

The nine elders behind him paused, exchanging glances, then gritted their teeth and continued the relentless pursuit. They were determined to wear Li Muzhan down to death. They correctly surmised that sustaining the Canghai Divine Sword consumed vast amounts of internal energy, and despite Li Muzhan’s profound internal reserves, how deep could a young man’s energy truly be?