He retrieved the willow-leaf throwing knife from the stiff, unblinking neck of Zong Yu, then flicked his wrist, flinging the blood clean off the blade. The sliver of spiritual perception he had nurtured on that knife instantly snapped the moment it left his hand.

This movement was merely a screen to conceal his Heaven-Swallowing Primordial Transformation Art, allowing him to drain every last drop of Zong Yu’s residual blood essence and vital energy. After that, he lost all interest in sparing Zong Yu another glance.

He patted Su Chuxue’s head, chuckled heartily, and strode directly toward the area a hundred zhang away where the clash of blades rang incessantly. To call Zong Yu and the others trash was not just a tactic to provoke them; it was his genuine, deeply held belief.

The truly dangerous threat lay one hundred and sixty zhang out, where the grievously wounded Yin Yang was being pinned down by the Fierce Sword Wu Wei, who allowed no counterattack! Only this man warranted his slight apprehension.

A Martial Master who had entered the peak of the Intermediate stage was truly a level beyond a low-tier Martial Master. Even without the immediate absorption, the vital energy Zong Yu contributed surpassed what the Li brothers offered by at least thirty percent!

Yet, even absorbing all of that, combined with the true qi remaining in his body, the throwing knife—capable of challenging a Seven-Vein Secret Martial Master across seven tiers—could only be launched once! Succeed and live; fail and die!

Arriving at one hundred and forty zhang, Zong Shou paused briefly beside a withered corpse. He silently praised Yin Yang’s ferocity.

Though he didn't know the name of this fallen man, judging by the bone structure and skin luster, his cultivation realm was clearly above Martial Master, having reached the Secret Martial realm. Yin Yang had slain this opponent with lightning speed.

Though severely injured himself, he had successfully averted the danger of being caught between enemies attacking from front and back—a truly decisive and ruthless act. And now, the dense array of blade shadows, stern as a fortress wall, still managed to hold on under the sweeping sword light, testifying to his tenacity.

In the future stages of the Divine Emperor Game, this man wouldn't be a minor Boss, but certainly an Elite Tier character. By this point, he could feel the violent wind pressure, sharp gusts of qi scraping his skin raw.

Wu Wei’s piercing gaze swept over him intermittently. Advancing even one step required tightening his focus, facing immense peril.

A single lapse, a moment of distraction, and his life would be forfeit. With this man’s movement technique and quick sword, taking his life within a hundred paces would likely take less than half a breath—the blink of an eye.

Zong Shou, however, continued to advance, his expression fearless, stopping only when he reached fifteen zhang. He held his sword in his right hand, his left concealed within his sleeve, only a small section of the blade peeking out, flickering with a near-invisible cold gleam.

At this distance, his throwing knife could strike instantly. “Young Master!” Su Chuxue followed close behind, her eyes full of confusion.

No matter how skilled Zong Shou’s martial arts were, his internal energy was finite. Interfering in a fight between two Secret Martial Masters was too reckless, too arrogant.

Just as anxiety tightened her chest, she saw the sword light, which had been surging like a river, suddenly falter. The blade shadows rose again, their momentum even surpassing the sword light.

Zong Shou had only to stand there, and a sheen of cold sweat visibly formed on Wu Wei’s forehead. His gaze repeatedly flickered toward Zong Shou’s left hand, as if deeply wary.

It struck her then: in this man’s eyes, Zong Shou’s throwing knife was terrifyingly potent! Before, watching Zong Shou practice his throwing techniques, she had only perceived speed, precision, and simple movements—threats to her, perhaps, but nothing more.

Today, however, neither Li Ling nor Zong Yu could execute any effective evasion against that willow-leaf knife! And now, this poised, unthrown strike felt like a genuine threat even to the Fierce Sword Wu Wei, who had slain several Secret Martial Masters.

In those arid eyes, beneath the hatred, astonishment, and fear, a clear intent to retreat began to show! Zong Shou seemed oblivious, a faint smile on his lips.

His eyes were half-closed, his stance utterly relaxed, as if he had drifted off to sleep. As time wore on, the man gradually ceased all perceptible presence.

Wu Wei grew increasingly frantic; his sword light scattered chaotically, almost without pattern. In barely fifteen minutes, he narrowly escaped being struck by Yin Yang’s blade several times.

After enduring a little longer, his will to fight finally broke. The sword shadows flared brilliantly, forcing Yin Yang back, and then Wu Wei vanished in a swift movement, retreating without hesitation toward the distance.

It was precisely then that Zong Shou’s face suddenly convulsed, blood spurting from his mouth. Immediately after, he collapsed to his knees, emitting a continuous, heart-wrenching, hacking cough.

Wu Wei had only taken a few steps away when a look of surprise crossed his face. His eyes hesitated briefly, and his body abruptly pivoted.

He abandoned Yin Yang entirely, his sword light coiling like a dragon, striking toward the twenty-zhang mark. Chuxue instantly turned pale, and Yin Yang’s expression drastically changed.

All the enveloping blade light retracted, then exploded outward in a far fiercer blade shadow, sweeping toward Wu Wei’s rear. But its speed was a full beat slower than his retreat.

In just one breath, the distance between them shrank to less than one zhang. The sword tip was right before his eyes, and Zong Shou’s eyes snapped open.

Despite the excruciating pain, his consciousness was clear, his killing intent cold, tinged with a slight mockery. “A pity.

You had such a good chance just now, why didn't you flee?” All the absorbed vital energy, the four Wind Spirit Apertures in his body, and all the true qi circulating through his meridians were gathered at a single point on his fingertip. His left hand, still tucked in his sleeve, made no visible movement, yet an invisible white light shot through the void with absolute suddenness.

Mid-air, Wu Wei was struck with stark horror. The sword in his hand needed only half a zhang more to claim the youth’s life, but he dared not advance another inch.

With a sharp grunt, his body performed an unsupported turn, carving a sharp arc that narrowly evaded the streaking knife light. Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, sneering internally, he saw the talisman knife abruptly change trajectory, pursuing him with uncanny agility.

Wu Wei’s pupils contracted sharply. “The knife changed direction!

How is that possible?” With a sharp roar, Wu Wei retreated like a gale. But after only five zhang, his right eye was gripped by agonizing pain.

The paper-thin throwing knife completely pulverized his eyeball before driving straight into his brain marrow. By a narrow margin, he managed to arrest the remaining force, using his bone structure to mechanically jam the blade edge.

Yet, before he could recover from the blinding agony in his skull, his face changed again, turning deathly white with absolute stillness. The blade light pursuing him from behind erupted, instantly engulfing his form completely.

But in the final moments before consciousness fled, Wu Wei had only one thought: “What a terrifying throwing knife! How can such a divine technique exist in this world?” The next instant, torrents of blood sprayed forward, dyeing a patch of grassland crimson red.

Watching Wu Wei cleaved in two by Yin Yang’s horizontal blade directly before him, Zong Shou felt a corresponding release in his spirit, then his vision dimmed. The coughing fit just now was not an act to lure the enemy; his body truly had reached the limit of endurance.

Unleashing that final strike had caused a complete systemic collapse. “This damn Dual-Meridian Body is utterly weak—” His thoughts muddled, Zong Shou felt dizziness overtake him, and then he lost consciousness entirely.

Seeing this, Su Chuxue immediately stepped forward, catching his falling body and preventing him from hitting the ground. Yet, her gaze held a peculiar expression; beneath the relief of surviving the ordeal, there was also a hint of disappointment.

In today’s battle, her Young Master had decided the outcome almost entirely by his own strength. She, conversely, had almost become a burden.