Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 434 - 104 You Are Not Worthy (Thanks to the Alliance Leader of Deep Sea No. 2) (2/2)

Outside Fengyue City, beside the official road.

The fierce cold light hardly ever ceased, as the handheld horizontal saber chopped down again. The blade trembled, wrapped in a pure white blade Qi, and ruthlessly struck the person who crossed the Broken Blades in defense.

The man in black slightly paled, almost vomiting blood, forcibly suppressing his discomfort. He fiercely slashed diagonally and upward with the Broken Blade in his hand, intending to sever Yan Ling’s wrist, but the latter seemed to ignore it.

The great Qin broad saber struck towards the opponent’s chest with a desperate and ferocious technique.

To exchange injury for death.

To make you bleed profusely on the spot, even if it costs me my wrist.

Yan Ling’s eyes were terrifyingly calm.

The man in black gritted his teeth, his weapon’s movements changed again, as fluid as a fish in water, becoming more intricate and delicate, forcibly blocking the descending handheld horizontal saber.

But after all, he was forcibly changing his moves. He could only muster up to seventy percent of his usual strength. His face paled again as he was nearly forced to kneel by the force of the handheld horizontal saber.

Where the blades clashed, intense Vigorous Qi debris formed, falling to the ground and blasting many pits into it.

Dust rose from the earth, but there was not a single flicker of emotion in Yan Ling’s eyes.

He merely increased the Inner Strength in his saber.

The man in black gradually realized it was becoming difficult to hold on. During their previous engagement, Yan Ling, wielding a great Qin broad saber, had pushed the ferocity and ruthlessness in martial arts to the limit. Each strike was lethal, like a madman drunk, and the man in black had no intention of leaving his life here yet, so he had no choice but to follow Yan Ling’s rhythm.

The latter’s momentum grew more fierce, while his own strength could not be fully utilized.

If this continued, he would be injured after another forty or fifty exchanges, and once injured and exhausted, he would eventually die here.

The man in black bit his teeth, released the Inner Strength from the weapon in his hand, and propelled his movement technique to explosively retreat several meters. However, Yan Ling seemed to have anticipated this move. He slightly adjusted the angle of his handheld horizontal saber and viciously struck down, drawing a blood mark on the black-clothed man’s shoulder, causing blood to surge out.

Then, like a shadow, he held the saber with both hands. The blade tore through the air, and all the man in black could see was a bit of cold light.

He could already feel a sharp pain at his throat.

Determined, he crossed the Broken Blades in his hands, seeming defensively identical to before. However, his footwork had changed. His left arm’s muscles tensed, his Inner Strength flowing powerfully, while his right arm relaxed, as if creating a Void.

From the outside, it looked like a desperate defense, but internally it had already formed a Yin-Yang cycle. As soon as Yan Ling’s saber struck, it would be contained by this technique. Under the spin of Yin and Yang, Yan Ling’s handheld horizontal saber would at most pierce his shoulder or waist, not fatally.

Meanwhile, his blade would counterattack, reversing diagonally upward, capable enough to slice a great gash across the latter’s neck.

This technique of Yin-Yang misdirection had helped him survive countless difficulties.

The only question was whether Yan Ling’s saber would come slashing down so straightforwardly.

A sense of pleasure was already rising in the heart of the man in black.

Is there any doubt about this?

Recalling the craziness and dominance of Yan Ling’s saber technique just now, he harbored not the slightest doubt in his heart.

His eyes were fixed intently on what lay ahead, his breathing slightly rapid, his blood surging wildly within. In this special state, everything in his sight seemed to slow down. He could see the opponent’s eyes, cold as Cold Jade, and Yan Ling’s hand tightly gripping the saber hilt.

He could see the sharp blade of the Great Qin standard saber, cutting through the air on either side, coming straight at him.

The saber suddenly stopped.

It stopped just as the man in black reached the peak of his joy, but the vigorous Qi carried by the blade continued forward due to inertia. The man in black felt a tearing pain across his face as the black mask could not withstand the tearing of the vigorous Qi and finally shattered into pieces, scattering around.

It revealed the face of a middle-aged man, plain and seemingly honest.

A person who looks honest is not necessarily truly honest.

The saber in Yan Ling’s hand was exactly positioned above those two broken blades, but there was no vigorous Qi on the blade. Utilizing a strategy of chaos and preemption, it was natural that no strength could be exerted; instead, the blade edge was caught by the two broken blades.

Yan Ling, holding the saber, his expression calm, said,

"Is it a surprise?"

"Unfortunately, I just happen to have the judgment ability that a normal person should have."

The man in black slightly widened his eyes, his expression somewhat ugly.

At the same time, the saber in Yan Ling’s hand pressed down like a block of bluestone on those two broken blades, making them not only unable to reverse the Qi for a counterattack but even due to angular problems, unable to pull out. He looked at the man in black opposite him and suddenly spoke,

"And my teacher told me two sentences, the first is, do not believe what the enemy shows."

"Do you really think I am a madman?"

The young man’s voice was flat, but in the ears of the man in black, it was full of mockery.

At that moment, Yan Ling abruptly bent his right knee, smashing it fiercely into the opponent’s abdomen. Only then did the latter finally confirm that he had been misled, falling into a trap. With Yan Ling’s weapon pressing down his broken blades, he could not use his own weapon. The opponent, in turn, had essentially given up his sword, leaving both to engage in close combat.

Inner strength surged, forming a layer of defense in the abdomen, and at the same time, he bent his left knee, also smashing it into Yan Ling’s abdomen.

Yan Ling’s knee struck the man in black’s abdomen, who had been prepared for the possibility of his organs being struck by vigorous Qi. Yet, he found that this move had not even broken through his defenses. His own left knee, carrying thirty percent of his Qi force, fiercely struck Yan Ling’s abdomen, feeling soft and not like it was blocked by vigorous Qi.

A sudden surge went through the man in black’s heart.

And just as he was distracted for that moment, Yan Ling’s handheld horizontal saber transformed from pressing to stabbing, thrusting fiercely forward. The man in black, caught off guard and unable to display his chaotic technique in time, even though he had reacted promptly by locking Yan Ling’s weapon with both hands, still felt a pain in his neck as the horizontal saber blade entered slightly.

Blood slid down the blade.

In his eyes wide with terror, reflected the young man opposite him, reflecting that somewhat pale face.

Yan Ling’s eyes were bright. Having taken a direct hit just now, a trickle of fresh blood seeped from the corner of his mouth—red, black, and pale formed a stark contrast. Despite being injured, Yan Ling’s aura was not in the least diminished. Looking at the man opposite him, he said,

"My teacher’s second words to me," he said. "Never trust an enemy’s word."

"I’m sorry, but I am indeed a madman."

The young man’s voice was even, but the man in black opposite him felt a mocking rage and an inexpressible fear. He was speechless, only able to do his utmost to block the saber.

This was merely the instinctual reaction of anyone facing their imminent death.

Yan Ling held the saber with both hands, thrusting it towards his opponent’s neck. As the weapons collided, they screeched, and he looked at the still-resisting man in black, saying leisurely:

"There’s one more thing."

"Do you know why I knew you were from the White Tiger Hall?"

The man in black didn’t care to listen to Yan Ling, but his expression changed slightly at the mention of the White Tiger Hall. Yan Ling smiled, his eyes cold, reflecting his struggling opponent and said:

"You told me."

"Whether that girl belonged to any sect or whether it was a matter of Jianghu vendetta, I was merely bluffing you, and you revealed it yourself…"

Even though the man in black knew Yan Ling intended to disturb his state of mind with words, he couldn’t help but tremble inwardly at what had just been said.

Thinking back to what Yan Ling had just said, he realized there were many flaws, but Yan Ling’s confident demeanor had made him overlook them. He cursed inwardly, yet managed to control himself.

Just then, Yan Ling suddenly spoke up, his voice calm:

"You really are from the White Tiger Hall."

The man in black was startled at first but then immediately realized he had been tricked again. The frustration in his heart was nearly impossible to contain. At that moment, Yan Ling’s saber suddenly surged with power, seizing the moment of his distraction to pierce the man’s neck with his saber.

Right hand holding the saber, left hand as a palm, pressing on the saber handle, he leaned forward, piercing the opponent’s neck with the saber. Yan Ling, like a frenzied beast, pushed him forward several steps.

With a clanging sound, he nailed the man alive to a dead tree behind him. The blade entered the tree and pierced through. The man in black showed no signs of living, yet due to the tenacity of a Seventh Rank Martial Artist, he seemed to have not yet breathed his last.

Yan Ling exhaled, straightened his body, and said lightly:

"Do you have comrades here?"

The man displayed a mocking look in his eyes and did not answer. Yan Ling nodded and said:

"There are indeed."

Even in his dying moment, the man in black still looked blank, as Yan Ling continued to ask without seeming to notice:

"Stronger than you?"

"It seems you are just one of the three wings…"

"Not here?"

"So it is…"

With Yan Ling’s murmuring, the martial artist’s expression gradually changed, increasingly terror-stricken, as if he was seeing a ghost, as if the young man in front of him was not a mortal but a Judge from the court of King Yama.

If not so, how could he see into his inner thoughts?

After getting the information he wanted, Yan Ling glanced at him and said:

"When a man dies, his will crumbles. I don’t need your answer."

"All the answers, I will find them myself on your face. Sometimes, the body is much more reliable than words."

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

His voice paused slightly then said again:

"Oh, one more thing."

The corners of the young man’s mouth slightly curled up in mockery within the blurred vision of the man in black.

"During our earlier fight, that last sentence was also a bluff…"

"You are from the White Tiger Hall, I knew it from the beginning."

"Because only the warriors of the White Tiger Hall are so sensitive to a distance of ten steps."

The lingering consciousness of the black-clad warrior recalled maintaining a ten-step distance from Yan Ling when they first encountered each other. Mixed emotions of remorse, agony, unwillingness, and intense mental anguish appeared in him, perhaps even a flicker of retrospective clarity, as he looked at Yan Ling, his eyes full of hatred, and said:

"You…"

At that moment, Yan Ling stepped back, holding the saber handle with one hand, lifting the other hand, and positioning it to the right of the handle, exerting his strength with a push.

Amid a resounding sharp clash, the saber forcefully made a diagonal cut, severing the dry tree and half of the neck of the White Tiger Hall man at once, causing him to instantly stop breathing, his pupils filled with an intense, almost indissoluble hatred.

Yan Ling held the long saber, took a deep breath, looked down at the hatred in the man’s eyes, closed them, and said:

"As one dies, all earthly matters disperse, all fury and joy forgotten, leading back to tranquility."

His voice paused again, then he laughed softly, his laughter no longer steady but faintly reckless.

"You are not worthy…"

"Do you understand?"

He shook his wrist, flinging the long saber sideways, the bloodstains on it splattering on the ground, leaving a fierce trail of blood.

PS: Today’s second update…

Thanks to Alliance leader No. 2 from the deep seas… super super thankful… It’s really late today, and I’m so clumsy that I can barely manage an extra update (crying), please allow me to owe this one for now, I’ll repay this later with extra long chapters or something similar slowly…