Third update! It was, it was—this was purely a massive trap! To let you draw your long saber at the final moment, giving you endless hope, only to instantly send the enemy plummeting from the cliff edge to the eighteenth level of hell, with no chance of recovery!

Amidst a flurry of stunned and disbelieving glances, sword met blade, yet it was like snowflakes meeting scorching sun; the long swords held by the three Venerables of the Holy Land didn't even last a fraction of a second before shattering!

The great saber struck the long sword, emitting only a faint sound, like chopping wood, and cleaved downward almost without pause!

Blood splattered!

Amidst piercing shrieks, the three massive men struck three swift blows!

The first strike severed the long sword; then, it drove directly into the shoulder of the Holy Land Venerable, almost reaching his waist, before the blade lifted for the second strike—the other shoulder was cleaved, sending the arm, along with half the body, flying several yards away!

The third strike separated head from body! Three heads tumbled through the air!

Qiao Ying immediately closed her eyes!

Everyone from the Holy Land stood petrified, their eyes fixed blankly on the three heads still rolling in mid-air; no one could process what had happened.

They had clearly seen their side find an opening, swords drawn, ready to turn the tide, and the opponent had even made a huge blunder, exposing a massive flaw, victory seemingly assured—so how, how could it have ended in such sudden destruction and total defeat? How was this possible? What had just happened?

On the field, the three giants belonging to the Can Tian Shi Hun stood imposing as celestial gods, their bodies covered in blood, while the ground was littered with fragmented corpses!

With a crisp, synchronized clang, the three long sabers slid back into their sheaths. The three giants gave the assembled experts opposite a chillingly indifferent look, turned, and strode back to their formation!

"First Battle! The Sovereign of Evil, Victorious!"

Qu Wuhui gritted his teeth and announced. With the result so clear, as the official arbiter, he had no choice but to declare the outcome, no matter how reluctant he was!

In the Holy Land camp, every face was red with rage, breaths coming in sharp gasps, teeth grinding audibly. Yet, not a single person spoke. Everyone understood the reality: this battle was one of life and death, win or lose was irrelevant; only the fittest would survive, unending slaughter. Under such terms, any deceitful tactic was permissible. Those who fell had absolutely no standing to blame their opponents!

Killed unjustly? That was only because they were careless! Because they didn't use their ultimate move sooner! Because they weren't ruthless enough! But no matter the grievance, they could not fault the enemy!

Before the four witnesses standing at the pinnacle of the world could speak, five figures in white robes slowly walked forward!

Five First-Tier Saints!

The prelude to the second round officially began!

The five from the Holy Land camp walked out slowly, faces etched with murderous intent, hands resting on their sword hilts. Their auras were intensely concentrated. As they advanced slowly, not a single fold of their white robes stirred, nor did even the hanging sleeves tremble.

The Saintly lineup consisted of two from the Dun Shi Xian Gong, one from Zhi Zun Jin Cheng, and two from Meng Huan Xue Hai!

"Jun Mo Xie, send out your men! Battle us!"

The leading Saint stared straight at Jun Mo Xie’s face and spoke gravely.

These five were certain not to repeat the mistake of the previous three. Before the fight even began, they were already poised to draw their blades. This battle was set to be far more perilous than the last!

During this brief interval, several Second-Tier Saints swiftly moved to clear the shattered remains of the previous three bodies from the center of the arena. Looking at the Venerables' corpses, now dismembered when they had been alive moments before, every face was grim, and an inexpressible mixture of sorrow and indignation brewed among them...

"Jun Mo Xie! Hurry and send someone out to die! What good are mere schemes and tricks? Do you think gaining one round through a cheap trick decides the whole war?" Seeing that Jun Mo Xie was still calmly exchanging jokes with Mei Xueyan, completely ignoring their presence, the Saint couldn't help but roar in anger again.

Jun Mo Xie turned, looked at him with mild surprise, and smiled slightly, "The ancients often said that an army motivated by grief is sure to win. Gentlemen, you may grieve to your heart's content; perhaps you’ll have a chance to win this fight. By delaying sending out my fighters, I am merely extending the time you have left on this earth. You don't even need to thank me..."

He paused, then let out a cold laugh before continuing, "What, are you trying to scare this young master with those funereal expressions? Damn it, we agreed on a fight to the death beforehand. Your men were useless, and now they’re dead—so what? Can’t accept it? Huh?"

The five opposite trembled violently, glaring at him, wishing they could spit on his detestable face. The leading one hissed, "We know it’s a fight to the death, we don't need you to tell us! When a comrade falls, it is my duty to avenge him and claim the blood debt!"

"Alas, the young disciples grow old in the Jianghu; when will the cycle of revenge ever end..."

Jun Mo Xie lamented with great feigned compassion, "Feuds in the Jianghu truly harm everyone... Since antiquity, countless happy families have been destroyed because of pointless slaughter... Five Saint Kings, are you truly so unwilling to part with those who just died? Why not draw your swords and slit your own throats? Then you can reunite instantly... Why seek revenge? Why haven't you drawn your blades? Don't you wish to see your comrades again? Don't hesitate any longer. A quick cut of the sword, and you can gather once more—how refreshing!"

At these words, everyone's expression became strangely complex; even the three Guardians, whose cultivation was profound and minds transcendent, stared at Jun Mo Xie dumbfounded, utterly unable to fathom how anyone could possess such shameless audacity, such incredible lack of propriety...

To stand on the grounds of righteousness and persuade those seeking revenge to commit suicide, and to do so with such sanctimonious eloquence—the way he presented it, not killing oneself seemed like a betrayal of heaven and earth, of family, and of oneself...

"Hahahaha..."

The Fourteenth Young Master of Jiuyou burst into laughter, praising, "This kid's shamelessness truly embodies the spirit of the Three Great Holy Lands! He has truly surpassed the masters! Using such methods against the Three Great Holy Lands truly eases my heart! It's damned satisfying!"

Cheng Yinxiao and Qu Wuhui were left speechless, unsure whether to laugh or cry...

What was this? Praising Jun Mo Xie was one thing, but dragging the Holy Lands into it? While the Holy Lands might occasionally act distastefully, they generally maintained some semblance of propriety in public. Where would they be as openly, brazenly despicable as this?

The five Saints opposite were trembling, nearly ready to explode, yet Young Master Jun continued his relentless instruction: "Besides, why is this the place for revenge? This is the designated arena for the wagered duel! You came out simply to take your position as one side in the next contest... Revenge? Is your head malfunctioning? I was planning to let you live a little longer, but now I can save the effort. It’s truly hard being a good person. Don't worry; someone else will surely come for revenge in the next match! You won't be lonely on the road to the Yellow Springs!"

"Young Master Jun, relying on sharp words is not the key to victory."

Hai Wuya said gravely. The Sea Saint Emperor’s face was dark; clearly, he was also deeply unsettled.

"Sharp words may not decide the victory; but distorting truth is not the exclusive patent of the Three Great Holy Lands!"

Jun Mo Xie let out a cold sneer, then soberly asked, "Five First-Tier Saints opposing us—who among us will step forward to slay them?"

"I!"

One hundred and seventy First-Tier Saints simultaneously stepped forward one pace, their eyes burning with an abnormally fervent fighting spirit! These members of the Can Tian Shi Hun had grown their strength almost dream-like over the past year, and then harvested lives like madmen; their bodies and souls had been forged by Jun Mo Xie into killing machines!

For them, battle was already a source of endless pleasure, a delightful occupation! Especially killing Saints in a direct confrontation... How many times in a lifetime could one achieve such a thing? Naturally, everyone fought bravely, vying to be first!

Jun Mo Xie did not turn back, coldly ordering, "Ninth Squad of Can Tian, the rear five, step out! Combat!"

"Yes!"

Five figures clad in black strode forward, each step seeming to land precisely on the juncture of life and death, marking the most shocking note of death! Ten expressionless eyes fixed on the five Saints opposite, as if they were looking at five lifeless corpses!

The hands of all five were placed on their saber hilts; like their opponents, these five were prepared to draw their blades at any moment.

"How about this battle?"

Qiao Ying asked.

The battle hadn't started, but the atmosphere of unprecedented, fierce slaughter already allowed her to foresee the brutal prospect of the coming fight!

"It's impossible to draw a firm conclusion yet... But comparing strength, we still hold a significant advantage, just like the previous match; moreover, no one will be careless this time... Logically, this should be a sure victory, but for some reason, this old man still isn't certain!"

Cheng Yinxiao frowned.

"What is there to be uncertain about! I was focused on those three who just left; those three only managed a surprising victory in the first round purely because of that bizarre formation and their indestructible sabers... Now, those three's weapons are still hanging at their waists; they haven't been passed to this group of five. Ha!"

Qu Wuhui laughed easily, "Such divine blades capable of slicing iron like mud are treasures rarely seen under heaven even if there was only one. To have three appear at the same place and time today is the absolute extreme. Old Cheng, do you really think all three hundred of these men in black possess a divine saber or sword that can cut through iron like mud? That’s the biggest joke this old man has heard in a thousand years..."

The Fourteenth Young Master of Jiuyou shot him a sidelong glance, smiling faintly, "Oh? Qu Wuhui, do you think the Holy Land is guaranteed victory in this fight? If you are so certain, how about we make a wager?"

"A wager? What kind of wager?" Qu Wuhui raised his eyes, watching the Fourteenth Young Master of Jiuyou warily.

"It's simple. I bet on Hei Li to win; you naturally bet on your Holy Land winning," the Fourteenth Young Master of Jiuyou snorted. "If either of us loses, on this very ground, no mystic power is allowed, no spiritual power is allowed—using only the strength of the physical body, the loser must dig up one thousand earthworms for the other! How about that?"