Ren Qianchou, kneeling on one knee, suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. His expression was utterly grim, a mix of despair and self-mockery. "Heh heh, so the good-for-nothing everyone talks about has actually reached the Eighth Meridian of the Body Wheel at the age of thirteen, a genius with peerless sword mastery! Ridiculous, truly ridiculous. It's laughable that Yang, the Heir of Qiantian Mountain Sect, delusionally thought he could contend with you for the position. And it's laughable that I, Ren Qianchou, was so blind and overreached my limits..."

Zong Shou glanced coldly at Xie Jun in the woods, confirming that the man possessed not a trace of life force remaining. Only then did he turn his head, looking over with a hint of surprise. "It seems your life is tougher than a cockroach's; you haven't died yet?"

Ren Qianchou's eyes were splitting with rage, his mind feeling heavy and his consciousness slowly fading. Yet, his face contorted into a savage grin, utterly insane. "You think killing the three of us means you can finally rest easy? The methods of our Cloud Scar Mountain Lord are beyond your imagination! There must be a backup plan behind us three. Perhaps it's that Li Xieling! Heh heh! My brothers and I will take our leave first, waiting for the Young Lord to descend and meet us..."

At the mention of the name Li Xieling, Li Yuniang's figure trembled once more, revealing a degree of terror, as if she had heard something utterly horrifying. The last vestiges of color drained completely from her pale face. She had almost entirely forgotten the shock Zong Shou had inflicted upon her moments before.

Ren Qianchou choked on blood, seeming poised to say more, but before he could utter another word, Zong Shou unleashed another streak of sword light, directly severing Ren Qianchou's head with a single clean stroke.

Then, thoughtfully, he looked toward the dense woods on his left. Perched on a branch, an owl was currently hanging upside down, gazing in their direction. Its feathers were greenish-blue, blending almost invisibly with the foliage, its aura faint, nearly undetectable.

Man and owl locked gazes for a brief moment, and a smile already touched Zong Shou's face. Since their caravan had descended here, almost all the birds and beasts within a hundred zhang radius had fled and vanished. Yet, this single owl remained—how strange was that?

The owl's eyes flickered once, and the next moment, it sprang into the air. Its body suddenly swelled tenfold, stirring up a tremendous gust of wind as it bolted toward the distant horizon. With a single flap and surge, it covered over seven hundred zhang.

Zong Shou shook his head and hurled the Thunder Fang Sword in his hand. It transformed into a streak of purple light, flashing across the sky, and impaled the owl mid-flight!

With a mournful cry, the giant bird above immediately plummeted downward.

Zong Shou didn't bother looking closely; only when the bird landed did he make a large beckoning gesture, drawing it in. The Thunder Fang Sword immediately spun like a screw, violently ripping itself free from the eagle's corpse and flying back into his hand. Zong Shou’s eyes held a flicker of confusion as he looked at the dazed Li Yuniang. "Who is this Li Xieling? Why haven't I heard of him?"

To frighten a Martial Master of the Innate Realm like Li Yuniang to this extent, the person must be quite famous.

Yet, despite racking his brain and searching through his memories, Zong Shou found no information about this individual. Am I truly this ignorant? And across ten thousand years, neither the historical records of the real world nor the game "Divine Emperor," which was created based on all aspects of this era, feature a figure named Li Xieling.

Could this person be a Martial Ancestor expert?

Li Yuniang snapped back to her senses and let out an involuntary cold snort, her face ashen, unwilling to reply. After what had just transpired, she knew that no matter how subservient she acted now, this Heir of Qiantian Mountain would not treat her kindly. It was better to have been defiant from the start.

Then, she watched as Zong Shou casually raised the Thunder Fang Sword to his lips and blew across it.

The human blood and eagle blood dripped away. The pale-green glow of the sword illuminated Zong Shou's half-smiling face, making it appear profoundly sinister.

Li Yuniang’s heart immediately leaped. Her thoughts raced, and she dared not press further. "If you haven't heard of Li Xieling, then have you heard of 'One Hundred Thousand Blood Kills,' Li Yunhong? Li Xieling is the new name he adopted. This man worships the path of slaughter, proclaiming that only by butchering one hundred thousand people can his martial path achieve invincibility across the world. He debuted at the age of twelve, and in just six short years, he has slaughtered ruthlessly; it is rumored that more than ten thousand people have died by his hand. Furthermore, it is rumored that six months ago, after advancing to the Innate Realm, the first thing he did was kill his own mother and family, then change his name to Li Xieling. Only recently has he somewhat restrained himself, but those he massacres are always martial artists and spirit masters. He acts without restraint, and wherever his whim strikes, he must kill people to consecrate his sword."

Even Lian Fan was puzzled, and his expression changed drastically upon hearing this. He had no reaction to the name Li Xieling, but the name Li Yunhong provoked a violent response. Veins bulged on both his hands and neck.

The light in his eyes flickered, as if he were exerting all his strength to suppress his agitated emotions.

Zong Shou was also taken aback. Someone who has killed no less than ten thousand people, who murdered his own mother and wife—are there such cruel people in this world?

Merely hearing the description made him feel that the man sounded incredibly formidable.

If someone truly possessed such brutal conviction and worshipped the pure path of slaughter, then Li Xieling's strength must be supreme.

He reflected that while his own martial path claimed to be inclusive of all schools, those paths leaning toward bloody, heretical methods had never truly been integrated.

His expression gradually settled, and a contemplative look emerged in Zong Shou’s eyes. "Then, is this Li Xieling currently at the Martial Ancestor realm?"

"At the peak of the Innate Realm at most!"

Li Yuniang shook her head slightly, and seeing Zong Shou’s solemn expression, she inexplicably felt a surge of satisfaction. As she spoke, her tone unconsciously returned to one laced with mockery. "However, he has already slain twenty Martial Ancestors under his sword! The skills of Ren Qianchou and those two were decent, but before him, they were nothing. This man offended several experts from the Profound Turtle Sect in the past, and the Cloud Scar Mountain Lord intervened to save him; ever since, he has been protected by Cloud Scar Mountain. But this person is capricious, arrogant, and dislikes constraint. He hasn't helped Cloud Scar Mountain much in recent years. It’s likely that even if Cloud Scar Mountain has a backup plan, it won't be him."

At this point, Li Yuniang coldly fixed Zong Shou with a disdainful glare. "The Young Lord conceals his abilities masterfully, and his sword path is formidable. But you had better pray that the person the Cloud Scar Mountain Lord sent this time isn't him! Your little bit of skill? He could kill you as easily as slaughtering dogs!"

Before her voice faded, a playful laugh echoed from the woods: "Thank you, Madam, for your high praise and consideration. But this time, Madam guessed incorrectly. The one who arrived today happens to be me, Li Xieling!"

The voice carried a hint of youthful immaturity, mixed with the deep, magnetic timbre of an adult. But to the ear, it sounded inexplicably sharp and jarring.

Li Yuniang gasped, her heartbeat nearly halting. Biting her lip until it was bloodless, she stared fixedly toward the source of the sound. A young man in a blood-red robe stepped out from the forest.

He appeared to be around eighteen, his face flushed with an unnatural crimson, as if suffering from a high fever. His eyes shifted constantly between extreme madness and icy clarity. He wore several sachets, which should have smelled fragrant, but the scent that wafted over was a sharp stench of blood.

Li Xieling first gazed at the massive owl corpse and shook his head with regret. "Such a pity that a spirit beast I painstakingly sought is dead like this. Do you know how difficult it is for us martial artists to find a mount like a spirit master? And how great a price we must pay?"

His expression was brimming with sorrow, but then his gaze snapped to Zong Shou with insane, scorching intensity. "But it doesn't matter! The thing I am most fortunate about today is meeting you, Zong Shou. I feel that slaying just you will be equivalent to three thousand kills! It will be comparable to my wife and children. Heh heh, I, Li Xieling, will have created less slaughter—isn't that a blessing for heaven and earth?"

Zong Shou smiled languidly, narrowing his slender phoenix eyes slightly. He had no desire to speak with this man. Figures like Li Xieling, devoid of emotion and principle, often had mental issues. Debating with such people was simply courting idiocy.

While Zong Shou himself was certainly ruthless when necessary, his actions always had purpose and reason. But this man acted entirely on whim and preference. Furthermore, he wasn't merely seeking enlightenment through slaughter; his entire being was integrated into the path of killing.

No matter what was said, a battle was inevitable today; why waste more words?

The sword in his hand faintly crackled with lightning. Li Xieling's eyes also showed a subtle flash of icy blue.

A blood-red sword light suddenly soared into the sky. Li Xieling chuckled, stepping forward. Then, his entire form seemed to transform into a wolf, enveloped in fierce killing intent, flashing instantly toward Zong Shou.

His speed was even faster than when Zong Shou had struck down Ren Qianchou moments before!

He seemed thirty zhang away one moment, but before anyone could blink, he was already two feet in front of Zong Shou, practically face-to-face. A bloody arc of light swept toward him.

Lian Fan’s pupils constricted instantly, barely having time to react. Li Yuniang clenched her fists, forcefully suppressing her rising anxiety.

Just as they thought Zong Shou had no hope of survival.

A black sword light erupted from Zong Shou's waist, surging upward. It rose into the air without relying on external force, stabbing diagonally toward Li Xieling’s neck. The sword speed was equally swift, yet supremely agile, piercing inward from the inner curve of the bloody arc.

Li Xieling's expression shifted slightly, and without hesitation, he retracted his sword and retreated violently, holding his blood-red blade horizontally across his neck. With a sharp ding, the black spirit sword was deflected aside. A roar sounded from beside him.

A massive silver bear suddenly materialized beside Zong Shou. Opening its cavernous mouth, its upper and lower rows of teeth, like giant spikes, lunged to bite down.

At this moment, Li Yuniang looked as though she had already died.

...To control a sword in mid-air, to command a Fourth-Order spirit beast—these are clearly the methods of a Spirit Master!

Her mind raced, and she finally remembered the spiritual talismans Zong Shou had been burning just before he executed Ren Qianchou.

Why didn't I notice it then?

This Heir of Qiantian Mountain was not only an Eighth-Rank Secret Martial Master but also a Spirit Master of the Nascent Soul Stage!