"A pity, this fellow had poor luck. Had I met him after a thousand years, perhaps he could have surprised me even more."

Li Xieling cultivated the Way of the Sword of Slaughter, while Zong Shou, conversely, was using this life-and-death battle of killing intent to temper and forge his own sword!

Though fundamentally different, both paths involved endless slaughter! Both demanded countless experts to be sacrificed upon the altar of their respective swordsmanship!

If Li Xieling could have ascended to the Heaven Rank, or even the Martial Ancestor realm, ten years hence, and engaged him then, the benefit to Zong Shou would undoubtedly have been far greater.

Whether he might be defeated and killed was never a factor he considered.

Innumerable intense battles fought across reality and virtual games in his previous life had already forged within him a confidence bordering on arrogance.

His sword, he believed, was unmatched, unconquerable, and unassailable! Capable of slaying all things, capable of shattering everything!

His sigh was light, barely audible. Yet, not far away, Li Yuniang heard it and her face flushed crimson, her cheeks burning as if slapped hard across the face.

She felt that all the embarrassing moments of her twenty years combined could not equal the shame and mortification she felt today.

Just moments ago, she had been smugly considering Zong Shou a dead man, conversing grandly with Ren Qianchou and the other two. Then, she watched firsthand as three of the Cloud Chasm Seven Swords were slain one by one by Zong Shou's hand.

Unwilling to see Zong Shou triumphant, she began to boast on Li Xieling's behalf, only to witness a peak battle capable of shaking the entire East Forest Cloud Continent. Moments ago, she had watched with her own eyes as the head of the 'Hundred Thousand Blood Slaughter, Li Xieling,' was severed by Zong Shou's single sword stroke.

"Young Master is indeed profound, his Sword Way formidable. However, you'd best pray that the person the Cloud Chasm Master dispatched this time is not Li Xieling! To him, your little trick is nothing more than butchering a dog."

That sentence, spoken not long ago, seemed to still echo in her ears. Thinking of it now, Li Yuniang suddenly felt an impulse to dig a hole in the ground and crawl into it.

To say Li Xieling had bad luck was truly not an exaggeration.

Zong Shou ignored her, concentrating instead, recalling a certain spiritual technique from his memory after much effort.

He immediately formed a hand seal, and two points of blue light appeared in his pupils. The surrounding vision instantly zoomed in.

Li Yuniang’s face suddenly appeared as large as a millstone in his eyes. Zong Shou turned his head away in distaste, beginning to focus on the direction where Chuxue and the Spirit Master were located. However, while the vision was drawn closer, everything outside the immediate vicinity, even several li away, was captured in his sight with meticulous clarity.

"So this is the Spirit Master's Art of Ocular Expansion. A pity the trees block the view. I remember the X-ray technique, but to use it requires at least the Returning Yang Realm, or perhaps the aid of a spiritual artifact!"

Suppressing the novelty, Zong Shou strained to find a single gap among the dense trees. Finally, he could glimpse the situation ten li away.

He saw Chuxue moving like a spirit cat, darting and weaving around an altar amidst four ferocious Third-Rank Soul Beasts.

The Shadow Lion, lying in wait to one side, had surprisingly not yet made a move. And Chuxue currently showed no sign of distress.

Whenever a spiritual technique approached, she was a step ahead, severing it at its root before it could fully manifest or unleash its power. It was much like the method he used to slay Qi Xiao a month prior, though back then he relied on his profound mastery of Talismanic Arts. Chuxue, however, depended on astonishing intuition.

Mistakes were frequent, however; Chuxue could only truly dismantle about thirty percent of the incoming spiritual arts. Yet, she always managed to evade them unscathed at the last moment, forcing the Spirit Master inside the altar into a cold sweat. As time passed, Chuxue’s movements and execution grew increasingly practiced.

The corner of Zong Shou's lips curled up. Clearly, capturing those sparrows these past few days had not been in vain. It was a pity the time was too short for her training to truly mature.

Shaking his head, Zong Shou retracted the hand seal, dismissing the Ocular Expansion Art. Without needing to scrutinize, he knew Chuxue’s defeat was inevitable.

But as he briefly considered it, he halted his intention to lend her aid.

If he intended to nurture this young woman into a dependable protector, he needed to be more ruthless.

After all, with the Shadow Lion watching over her, there was absolutely no danger to her life. To be able to use this situation to temper Chuxue’s combat skills was actually a blessing.

Putting aside his worry, Zong Shou looked back at what was before him. Reaching out, he summoned the blood-soaked sword that had fallen into the mud, drawing it into his hand with a spiraling force.

There was no sign of any wicked or unorthodox magic. Other than a pungent, fishy smell, there was no trace of resentment, vengeful spirits, or baleful energy.

However, the sword radiated an overwhelming killing intent. The moment he gripped it, a violent urge to slay surged into Zong Shou's mind, his eyes flashed faintly red, and his spirit wavered slightly.

In that instant, Zong Shou seemed to experience Li Xieling’s entire life—fourteen years of cultivating the Way of the Sword.

Practicing the sword at four, killing at eight, slaughtering ten thousand by sixteen to break through to the Innate Realm. At seventeen, slaughtering his wife and mother, killing his own son.

These memories were vague, flowing from the blood-soaked sword. The residual spiritual imprint of Li Xieling continuously battered Zong Shou’s consciousness.

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill! Still killing! If I kill a full hundred thousand, I shall be peerless in this world! If I kill a full million, I can prove the ultimate state of the Sword of Slaughter!"

The consciousness was intensely strong, yet Zong Shou let out a cold snort, and his eyes cleared in a mere moment.

He was secretly astonished that this sword truly carried the history of killing ten thousand, murdering his own mother and wife!

He couldn't fathom how Li Xieling had managed it. To have ten thousand people stand in a line to be slain would likely take several days.

"It must be the Sword Cultivator's technique of Imbuing the Sword. I don't know where Li Xieling learned this modified method that even a Martial Cultivator can practice. No, Li Xieling must have cultivated some soul force too..."

He didn't dwell on the matter. Zong Shou suddenly pointed a finger at the blood sword.

The next moment, he felt a will far more powerful than before resisting his soul force intrusion, clashing and colliding with his consciousness.

"With such paltry petty arts, you dare try to control my mind? Shatter!"

Zong Shou’s gaze sharpened. In this era, he feared nothing less than such confrontations of will.

With a slight movement of his mind, the spiritual imprint condensed upon the blood sword began to disintegrate. The sword itself seemed utterly drained of vitality and essence, its luster dimming.

Having entirely erased the last trace of will within the blade, Zong Shou casually tossed it aside. The sword’s material was good, but it was saturated with too much slaughter, making it unsuitable as food for Little Gold. Thus, after shattering Li Xieling’s spiritual imprint and extinguishing the possibility of forging it into an evil weapon, Zong Shou lost all further interest.

He then used his intent to search the corpse, and Zong Shou’s brow furrowed deeply.

"He killed twenty Martial Ancestors, yet he's this poor? How is there not a single beast crystal! Huh?"

With a cry of surprise, Zong Shou suddenly picked up the pouch from the corpse's waist and drew out an object, a white, round bead about the size of his fist. After examining it closely, he couldn't help but smile. This was truly a timely gift, arriving exactly when needed.

The other three, Ren Qianchou’s group, were clearly devoid of anything valuable.

Zong Shou cautiously probed with his intent, searching carefully, but ultimately could only shake his head in disappointment.

There were only a few bottles of healing pills and some Third-Rank beast crystals, which weren't enough to motivate him to thoroughly loot the bodies of the other three.

Conversely, the state of the woman beside him piqued his slight interest.

Turning his head, he saw Li Yuniang standing about ten zhang away, her fists clenched tight, her small face pale and shifting between colors.

Perhaps intimidated by the killing intent he had just unleashed, her long, beautiful legs were trembling slightly. Yet, she rigidly restrained herself, teeth clenched, her gaze fierce yet betraying an outward hardness masking inner fear.

The corner of Zong Shou’s mouth quirked upward in a wry smile, becoming somewhat interested. He inwardly chuckled, but on his face, he adopted a sinister expression, staring coldly at Li Yuniang: "Li Yuniang, do you think I should kill you now to silence you? Or spare your life?"

Li Yuniang’s body trembled, and a profound sense of powerlessness suddenly washed over her. But she kept her chin high, her posture rigid. She surmised that survival was impossible.

This man clearly possessed the spiritual cultivation of the Soul Manifestation Realm, and even the 'Hundred Thousand Blood Slaughter, Li Xieling,' was no match for him, yet he managed to conceal his abilities until now, leading everyone to believe he was a useless cripple. There had to be a reason for this.

Since she knew so many of his secrets today, and was not one of his confidantes, coupled with the things she had said earlier, she judged her chances of living were zero.

Just as she was steeling herself to say, "If you must kill me, then do it, why waste time talking?" Zong Shou suddenly showed a flicker of hesitation and let out a sigh.

"You are, after all, Yiren’s personal maid. If you are to be dealt with, it should be by her own hand. If I intervene, it might be improper. This is truly difficult..."

A sliver of hope immediately flared in Li Yuniang’s heart. Her resolve to meet death calmly abruptly wavered.

Right, there was Miss! With Miss here, Zong Shou surely wouldn't dare kill her!

Then, her spirit sank once more. She knew so many of this man’s secrets. Given his ruthless methods, how could he let anyone who knew them live?

Observing Li Yuniang’s expression shifting erratically—one moment grim, the next bright, her eyes occasionally flashing with a spark of hope before settling back into calmness—Zong Shou found her state increasingly amusing. He glanced around the vicinity, then suddenly reached out again, plucking a sunflower drifting in the dense woods into his hand.

"Not killing you might ruin my plans, but killing you would make it impossible to account for to Yiren. How about we let the petals of this sunflower decide your fate? One petal means death, two means life! One, two, one, two, one..."

As he spoke, Zong Shou began plucking the petals. Li Yuniang's heart involuntarily tightened once more, her tension immense, her mood fluctuating like a roller coaster with every whispered count of 'one' or 'two.'

Her eyes were wide open, straining with all her might to discern the count of the petals. However, part of his hand obscured the view, preventing her from seeing clearly.

As the petals grew sparse, a cold wave washed over Li Yuniang’s heart again. Only five petals remained. Just as despair set in, Zong Shou suddenly clenched his fist, crushing the sunflower into dust, and smiled mockingly: "You actually believed me? You woman are truly utterly foolish..."

Li Yuniang froze, and only after a long moment did she realize Zong Shou had been playing with her from the very beginning. There hadn't been much actual murderous intent all along. It was only because her spirit was overwhelmed by his power that she hadn't noticed.

Even now, she couldn't help but let out a small, choked laugh.

However, Zong Shou’s face held no hint of derision. He genuinely felt disgust toward this woman. If it weren't for Yiren, he would have simply slain her with one stroke.

Shaking his head, Zong Shou looked aside. He saw Chuxue approaching cheerfully, carrying a severed head.

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