"On this statement alone, I will spare a few lives." Ye Xiu smiled faintly, drawing the Muzi Sword, naturally not forgetting to strike a cool pose.

"Swish, swish, swish." Eight axe-wielding guards leaped into the air from eight different directions, circling Ye Xiu as the center, hacking down. "With your current state, you still dare to let us live!"

Ye Xiu looked up at the situation unfolding, showing no panic whatsoever. He had presumed that with the protection of the Zifeng Chain, no matter how mysterious their formation or how skilled their saber techniques, he could easily dissolve the attack.

In all martial arts, what cannot be broken, only speed guarantees victory!

So, he stood waiting in the center, not dodging a single step. Just as the great blades from all eight directions were about to descend upon his head, a sudden cold sweat broke out. The Zifeng Chain was showing absolutely no reaction. Panicked, Ye Xiu instantly dropped to the ground, raising the Mushang to stubbornly absorb the full force of the eight great blades.

Damn it! Ye Xiu nearly lost his soul from the fright. Why had this damned chain malfunctioned? Had it exhausted its power and now needed to rest?

This was hardly the moment for contemplation. The weight of eight blades was not something one person could withstand. Ye Xiu used the floor for leverage, springing back up, freeing his legs. With a sweeping circular kick, like falling leaves scattering, he repelled all eight men. But before Ye Xiu could regain his footing, four of the axe-wielders were already leaping skyward again, aiming for another overhead strike.

Ye Xiu paid them little mind, assuming it was a repeated tactic. Unexpectedly, the other four used the wall to push off, borrowing momentum to glide across the floor with their great sabers.

In that moment of crisis, blades above and steel below, Ye Xiu's heart tightened. He randomly chose a direction and executed a front somersault leap, successfully clearing the center of the blade formation and evading five attackers. However, the remaining three on the ground were already closing in. Without a second thought, Ye Xiu stomped off the wall twice, pushed off backward, and with a backflip, returned to his previous spot.

These two successful dodges did not dishearten the axe-wielders. The four in the center immediately scattered, each moving in a different direction, while the men on the ground stood up and pressed their attack relentlessly.

Although Ye Xiu had not yet matured into a true master swordsman, he was already adept at this kind of desperate parry and counterattack. Through countless clashes of sword and saber, Ye Xiu remained untouched. But as he returned to the exact center of the original Eight-Direction Saber and Axe Formation, he suddenly grasped the reason behind it all.

"What the hell!" Ye Xiu retracted the Mushang, using it to guard his chest. The swordplay of these eight axe-wielders wasn't outstanding individually, but their coordination was seamless. The lack of any particularly exceptional fighter created the illusion of monotonous repetition.

Each man was a switch, each move a replication. His dodging had been utterly futile. None of them individually intended to kill the man who entered the formation; their sole purpose was to force him into the dead center, where they could capture and kill him together.

At this moment, Ye Xiu had fallen for the trap and was back at the center point. The eight axe-wielders swiftly reset their formation and began to circle Ye Xiu.

Cold sweat beaded on Ye Xiu's forehead. This was the first time he had felt a genuine threat to his life. Surrounded by eight men, his field of vision could only cover four or five. What if the three in his blind spot attacked simultaneously? If he dealt with those behind him, those in front would have their backs to him. What should he do?

"Clang!" A long, resonant sound echoed as two axe-wielders from behind swung their blades horizontally toward him. Ye Xiu could spare no more thought, flipping over to block with his sword. At that instant, the sabers from other directions swept in laterally.

Seeing this, Ye Xiu used his sword to flick up the blades of the two men he had just blocked, while simultaneously exerting maximum force to defend against the attack in front of him. But this single effort was not enough. Four overwhelming blades pinned the Mushang firmly in mid-air. Then, the final two axe-wielders swung in from the sides in a follow-up, aiming to cleave Ye Xiu at the waist.

The situation was dire. Ye Xiu, in a burst of desperation, abandoned his sword for his fists. Using rapid, small steps, he darted forward and shifted his stance, firmly trapping the blade-wielder on his left. However, the saber from the right was too fast to evade entirely; it scraped past his thigh, drawing a long, bleeding furrow.

"Hah!" Ye Xiu felt the pain erupt from his leg, blood already streaming down his pant leg to the floor. He hadn't expected the Eight-Direction Saber and Axe Formation to possess such tricks, even managing to wound the dignified Ghost Valley Sect Master.

"Kid, your skills aren't bad, but you won't be so lucky on the next strike," the bearded leader said with a degree of approval, simultaneously signaling the others to move smoothly, once again surrounding Ye Xiu in the center of the formation.

Though at a disadvantage, Ye Xiu showed no sign of surrender; instead, his face was filled with confidence. "I already understand how to break your little trick. Watch closely!"

"Bring it on! It's been a while since I've had this much fun killing," a younger blade-wielder clearly felt provoked. Thus, their formation spun up once more, much faster than the last rotation.

Ye Xiu took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and raised the Muzi Sword straight ahead. In his mind, he began to recall the scene of striking a falling leaf with a single sword stroke.

All masterful swordsmanship aims to subdue the enemy in that single instant. Truly, in all martial arts, speed prevails. To lift a falling leaf the very moment it touches the ground—that is the stabbing sword art of Ghost Valley. Yet, whether buffeted by wind or rain, the focus of the mind must remain unwavering; perhaps this is a form of reckless abandon and dominance born from desperate survival.

Ye Xiu made his decision: the instant the blade formation launched its final attack, he would take a gamble. No matter where the blade tips struck, a full-force thrust to kill one opponent would be enough to shatter the formation and subdue the enemy.

"Boy, your pathetic sticks seem useless now." Xiang Yu held fast to Xiao Gou's twin staffs with only one hand, maintaining an unyielding stalemate. "Grandpa has never met a true opponent, except perhaps..." He glanced toward the building. Though he verbally downplayed Ye Xiu's skill, the feeling from their previous exchange lingered. He sensed this man posed a genuine threat—not just because he couldn't land a hit, but because he felt they operated on entirely different planes. Ye Xiu's presence seemed designed only to scorn and dismantle him.

"Hmph! Don't underestimate people!" Xiao Gou did not give up. Although his twin staffs were held tight by Xiang Yu, the long chain remained in his other hand. He immediately turned his back to Xiang Yu, bracing himself with his lower back, and pulled the chain, leaning forward with all his might, trying to topple Xiang Yu.

Xiang Yu had long foreseen this move and used his hand to clamp down firmly on one of Xiao Gou's legs. Thus, the two changed posture again, continuing their deadlock. Suddenly, a "Chiii..." sound erupted from Xiao Gou's back.

A sharp steel spike had rapidly launched from a sheath at his waist, piercing directly into Xiang Yu's abdomen. Immediately, another gush of blood splattered onto the floor.

"There’s a trick to that!" Xiang Yu was forced to release his grip, spitting curses through clenched teeth as he staggered several steps back.

Xiao Gou once again gained the upper hand, licking his lips as he brandished his twin staffs. "You are finished. My hidden weapons are coated with something special."

"Poison? I intended to spare your life!" Xiang Yu clutched his stomach, his body slick with a mixture of blood and sweat. Anyone else taking such a blow would likely be dead, but he was Xiang Yu; in his own mind, he would never be defeated by anyone.

"How is it? Can't stand steady anymore?" Xiao Gou swaggered closer to Xiang Yu, growing arrogant now that victory seemed assured.

"Heh heh." Xiang Yu let out a light laugh. Indeed, this was no ordinary minor character. At this moment, regardless of poison or not, he straightened his body once more, raising his great sword high above his head, and with a sudden burst of power, charged forward.

"Pfft!" A sound echoed across the four directions, startling the surrounding lackeys into stunned silence.

Xiang Yu's sword slanted, resting on the ground, supporting his entire body. The blade was already dyed crimson with blood that continued to stream down. As for Xiao Gou... Xiao Gou's eyes remained wide open. His agile upper body lay collapsed on the ground, yet his lower half was still standing bolt upright in place. This final, waist-severing strike had reached the absolute peak of power and speed. His proudly held twin staffs were now shattered into four pieces.

Xiang Yu fiercely grasped the spike lodged in his abdomen and violently pulled it free. As he turned to walk back toward the building, he couldn't help but look back with a trace of regret, muttering, "I also wished to spare you, but a dog is always just a dog. Die!"

On the second floor, amid the Eight-Direction Saber and Axe Formation, the tension was palpable. The chilling light of killing suddenly flashed as the eight swordsmen divided into four groups, attacking Ye Xiu from the southeast, northwest, above, and below.

Ye Xiu's eyes remained tightly shut; the Muzi Sword was motionless. Just as a frontal blade was about to strike him, he suddenly snapped his eyes open. His entire arm and the Muzi Sword formed a straight line, and he propelled himself forward rapidly by pushing off the ground. Although it felt like he had minimal runway, Ye Xiu unleashed his speed in that incredibly short span.

"Whoooosh." The sound of wind returned, but this time it was accompanied by a blinding white light. High and low, no one knew where this light originated, only that in that single instant, the attacking swordsmen had already lost. It carried an aura of inevitable victory, an oppressive force that even Xiang Yu, who had just reached the second floor, felt consumed by.

"Thud! Thud!" The bearded leader's saber fell heavily to the ground. Ye Xiu's sword had struck precisely into his armpit. He could only stand there with a look of vacant bewilderment, unable to make a single move.

"The formation is broken. You have failed!" Ye Xiu kept his voice very low. Although he knew he had won, he still couldn't grasp the meaning behind this single sword strike. The doctrine of the Ghost Valley Sect was one of seclusion, but how could such a ghostly, uncanny strike exist? Did the origins of his sect hide something profound within the long river of history?

"You may pass; we yield!" The leading bearded man ordered his men to clear the path, then said slowly to Ye Xiu, "We brothers swore that whoever broke the formation first, we would follow him. You are our big brother now."

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