Volume Two: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter 56: Entry (3)

Time seemed to freeze in that instant. The earth dragon’s eyes were blinded, and Qin Yang, his jaws locked around the creature’s neck, drank deeply of its blood.

Gulp. Gulp.

Scalding blood surged into his body. Most of it was ordinary and ineffective, yet as the Demonic Immortal Art circulated within him, he drew out the essence of the dragon’s blood, refining it to its purest form. His body, parched as if after a long drought, was nourished by this flow. His previously dry skin regained a measure of its former luster.

The earth dragon still thrashed, but Qin Yang clung to it like an octopus, refusing to let go. Blood soaked his clothes, dyeing them crimson, making him appear ghastly and fierce—like a demon, a fiend, a vengeful spirit.

The disciples of the Sword Sect trembled, their legs weak. They had witnessed brutality before, but never such a scene as this, a man drinking the blood of a beast alive.

Wu Jian’s eyes darted about frantically. “Brothers, attack! Qin Yang is surely a demon cultivator. Killing him is a righteous act—purging evil for the greater good!”

Purging evil for the greater good.

One by one, the disciples seized upon this as their justification, comforting themselves with the thought. Wu Jian’s gaze grew fervent. Drawing his three-foot blue-steel sword, he lunged forward—not toward the earth dragon, but at Qin Yang. In his eyes, Qin Yang was the greater threat.

His assault was swift and fierce. With a low roar, he struck with a wild, thunderous punch. The power of lightning shrouded his fist, parrying the blue-steel blade’s edge.

Boom!

Qin Yang staggered back. Freed from his grip, the earth dragon rampaged, crashing madly about. The Sword Sect disciples now faced disaster.

“You ignore the true danger before you, and still wish to kill me? Wu Jian, your pettiness knows no bounds.”

“Hmph. Whether I am petty or not is not yours to judge, dead man.” The blue-steel sword spun in his hand, its aura growing sharper. His eyes narrowed.

A violent energy filled the air, surging in a storm toward Qin Yang.

Qin Yang’s gaze was like blazing torches. Instantly, he saw through Wu Jian’s techniques, a cold smile tugging at his lips. Wu Jian was indeed formidable, having mastered both the intent of the Sword and the essence of Metal—two intertwined paths, brimming with deadly sharpness.

The Black Dragon Dagger shot up, intercepting the blow. The weapon rang with a sharp cry, and Qin Yang’s expression changed; he had not expected Wu Jian’s strength or the superiority of his weapon.

“So you do have some skill. No wonder you were so arrogant before.” Qin Yang laughed coldly, moving with renewed ferocity. Swords of light flashed in rapid succession, encircling him.

Sword energy raged, slashing his skin and drawing fresh blood.

The mounting pressure bore down on him, leaving him as solitary as a leaf adrift in the depths of the sea.

“Die!” Wu Jian roared. “Death-Seeking Sword Technique!” This was a famed form of the Sword Sect, known for its swiftness and lethal precision.

Boom!

Just as peril approached, a surge of joy filled Qin Yang’s heart. Against all odds, he had broken through at the brink of death—not in strength, but in his Berserker Body, now reaching its second stage.

This advance would double his power. Flames blazed in his eyes. Wu Jian’s attack, once threatening, now seemed sluggish. With a simple punch, Qin Yang lashed out.

The air trembled. Wu Jian’s face turned ashen; he could sense the change, knowing that Qin Yang had ascended.

“Damn!” Wu Jian cursed, but Qin Yang, thrilled by his breakthrough, cared little for anything else. The rush of strength intoxicated him.

The Blood Fiend’s aura rose with him. He stamped forward, crashing into Wu Jian.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The violent clash echoed in the air. The once-durable Black Dragon Dagger shattered, and Wu Jian’s blue-steel sword was broken as well. Such ferocity was staggering.

A warrior’s weapon was his pride; to shatter it was to forge a mortal enmity.

The disciples’ faces blanched. With the earth dragon still raging, they had no way to intervene.

“Brother Wu!”

“Brother Wu!”

Wu Jian glowered at Qin Yang, greed flickering in his eyes once more. The stronger Qin Yang revealed himself to be, the more Wu Jian coveted the art he practiced.

He drew out the half of the Starfall Saber, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “Sword or not, you will die all the same.”

At the sudden appearance of the weapon, Qin Yang’s eyes narrowed in surprise. Wu Jian had a spatial treasure after all.

If only he could seize it—would Wu Jian weep?

His thoughts were cut short by a slight tremor coursing through his body. The movement was nearly imperceptible.

Suddenly, Qin Yang struck. The Demonic Immortal Art surged, releasing a torrent of true energy.

Killing intent flooded the air, thunder roared.

“Cut him down!”

Though Wu Jian could not fully control the Starfall Saber, he wielded it with brute strength, knocking Qin Yang aside. His face twisted with malice. “Hand over your strength-enhancing art and I’ll spare your life.”

Qin Yang scoffed. “Dream on if you think you’ll get my secrets.”

“So be it. Then die!” Wu Jian’s attacks grew more frenzied, the Starfall Saber slashing with sword-like precision. He gripped it with both hands—the saber was monstrously heavy.

Crash—

The ground split open beneath the blow. Qin Yang dodged the killing edge, but the shockwave battered him.

In a flash, he unleashed the Nine Steps Shatter the Heavens, following it with the Phantom Strike.

“You would pit flesh against my treasured blade? You court death!” Wu Jian spat. “Return of Ten Thousand Swords!”

This technique radiated overwhelming might. If completed, Qin Yang would be doomed. His face drained of color as he muttered under his breath.

“Starfall Warblade, the Demonic Immortal commands you—return!”

Wu Jian sneered, unable to fathom what Qin Yang was scheming.

His saber descended, victory assured—until suddenly, the Starfall Saber began to tremble violently, nearly flying from his grasp.

“Damn it, what’s happening?” He had paid a fortune for this saber at auction and studied it for some time, finding nothing unusual. How could a few words from Qin Yang cause such a reaction?

“I never imagined you had such tricks.”

“There’s much you don’t know,” Qin Yang replied coldly. “Return!”

With a jolt, Wu Jian lost his grip; the Starfall Saber tore free and flew into Qin Yang’s hand.

Qin Yang’s face was grim and pale. As the saber landed in his grasp, a flush of color appeared on his cheeks, then a mouthful of blood surged up.

He spat blood. “Damn it, the Berserker Body’s second stage has a time limit.” His expression hardened as he fixed his gaze on Wu Jian. He knew he could not linger—delay would only bring disaster.

Wu Jian saw his intent, cold fury twisting his features. “Stop him! Don’t let him escape!”

As more than a dozen disciples rushed forward, murderous intent erupted from Qin Yang. He was a man who had mastered the Dao of Slaughter—when he unleashed it, it was a calamity to all around.

“If you seek death, I will grant it.”

“Blood Fiend Slash!”

The Starfall Saber fused with his life’s blood, glowing with a blinding brilliance. Its terrifying weight forced him to brace with all his strength.

His eyes gleamed with deadly intent, so dense it seemed almost tangible. The sky itself was stained red, as if soaked in ink.

“Die!”