Chapter 136: 135. Kill the Body, Destroy the Mind

135. Chapter 135: Kill the Body, Destroy the Mind

When a Qi-refining expert enraged himself and forced out his heart’s blood, his power returned to its peak state—though this peak lasted only briefly, it was enough for Jin Zhihuan.

Within sixty breaths, if he failed to kill Li Yi, he would have no choice but to take his own life.

At this moment, Jin Zhihuan was no longer the composed man he had been; he became a frenzied beast, launching a direct assault toward Li Yi, giving him no chance to stall—once his heart’s blood receded, he would lose all opportunity.

“A peak Qi-refining expert? Fine. Today, I’ll kill you outright.”

Li Yi could have circled, bought time, and waited for the peak to fade before striking—but he did not. He intended to use this Qi-refining expert as a whetstone, forging his own inner strength and cultivating his own aura. Besides, Qi-refining experts weren’t unbeatable—why should he flee?

In the Four Seas and Eight Provinces, it was the Wufu who should flee from Li Yi.

Instantly.

Li Yi surged forward, fists clenched, tendons, muscles, and bones roaring in unison, his entire body’s power twisted into a single force—divine power erupted. With a single motion, qi surged outward, stirring a gale, then another punch slammed forth—a lethal strike.

Jin Zhihuan’s blade Gang reappeared; the Wind Listening Blade hummed, slicing through the air in an instant, already before Li Yi’s eyes.

If his clothes couldn’t be cut, then cut his head instead.

Li Yi did not dodge. His invincible fist met the blade head-on. Though he lacked condensed Gang qi, his terrifying punch force converged, shattering the air itself—forming a cloud of white mist that pierced outward with dreadful force.

“Boom!”

The crimson blade Gang clashed with the invisible punch force. The two energies collided, separated by an inch, then exploded outward—gales reversed, air vibrated, shaking the surrounding Wu fu until their eardrums bled.

“You’re not Qi-refining.”

Jin Zhihuan’s pupils shrank sharply—he now saw that Li Yi’s fist showed no blood surge, no condensed fist Gang . Only then did he realize.

“I’m only Bone-Refining. Of course I’m not Qi-refining. Try this one.” Li Yi’s first punch exhausted, he roared and swung his other fist forward.

Divine power erupted again; punch force spilled forth once more.

“Bone-Refining has this kind of power? Do you think I’ll believe your lies?” Jin Zhihuan’s eyes widened, then he roared and slashed again.

Blade Gang surged forth—but was struck by invisible punch force. Not only did it not advance an inch, it was repelled by residual force, forcing him to retreat and pull back his blade.

Only the second clash—and the Wind Listening Blade, Jin Zhihuan, was already at a disadvantage?

Had his heart’s blood’s time run out? Was he weakening?

No.

Not that.

He wasn’t weakening—he was being outpaced. This boy was growing stronger, his potential reigniting under pressure.

“I don’t believe it. I don’t believe such a thing exists in this world.”

Jin Zhihuan went mad. His Wind Listening Blade rang again, and in an instant, he slashed three times—lightning-fast, targeting vital points. This was his ultimate technique: Three Corpses Severed—each strike meant three severed corpses lying before him. He rarely used it, only in life-or-death duels.

He hadn’t fought to the death in years—so long he’d forgotten—but now, restored to his peak, the killing techniques came to him effortlessly, without a trace of rust.

“Good.”

Li Yi’s vertical pupils glowed, locking onto his opponent. His dynamic vision reached its peak, catching the faintest trace of the blade’s trajectory. Instinctively, he unleashed the killing technique Master Zhao Ge had taught him—three punches in an instant, each heavy enough to shake mountains and rivers.

This technique was called: Shaking Mountains and Rivers.

“Boom!”

Punch force and blade Gang collided three times in a flash. Terrifying residual energy sprayed outward with shattered blade Gang . Merely the shockwave struck a nearby Jin family disciple—he spat blood, flew backward, and collapsed unconscious. Nearby stone slabs bore deep, cleaved scars.

Within three zhang of these two, it became a meat grinder. Without Qi-refining cultivation, entering meant death—no chance of survival.

“Is this… how Qi-refining experts fight? So terrifying.”

Rong Niang’s face turned pale. Now she understood why, back at the ruined temple, Han Sui and Jin Bufeng had dared not attack their Master directly—only seized her and probed from afar with powerful bows. The full power of a Qi-refining expert was this terrifying. Who among Blood-Refining Wu fu would dare provoke such a beast?

But Senior Brother seemed even more terrifying.

With only Bone-Refining Level Three, he matched Jin Zhihuan blow for blow—no, he was even superior. He hadn’t even used his divine talent, hadn’t exhausted his boundless divine power, hadn’t tapped his full potential. If Jin Zhihuan couldn’t defeat him within ten strikes, he would be worn down and crushed alive.

“Punches fear the young and strong.” This saying never grew old.

Yet now—

Jin Zhihuan had summoned blade Gang countless times, unleashed countless killing strikes—but each was shattered by Li Yi’s punch force, his blade knocked from his grip. This brutal combat had drained his heart’s blood far sooner than expected. Barely thirty breaths in, he felt searing pain throughout his body; his next blade Gang already lacked strength.

His blood qi was fading. His peak was passing. He was losing.

“I won’t accept it. My Wind Listening Blade shone for a lifetime—will I really be killed by a Bone-Refining Wu fu? I won’t accept this end. Even if I die today, I’ll take you with me.” Jin Zhihuan roared, forcing every drop of his blood qi into motion. The dimming blade Gang blazed once more.

He no longer held the blade with one hand—his right arm had gone numb, trembling, unable to grip. He gripped it with both hands.

Strength, blood qi, even the last shred of his withered spirit and essence—all were squeezed out.

In his haze, Jin Zhihuan seemed to glimpse the path of the Upper Three Realms.

“Sweep the Eight Provinces.”

He slashed again—this time, the blade descended straight upon Li Yi’s head. Not a sweep at all. The old veteran had tricked him—using the technique’s name to mislead. But Li Yi wasn’t from Xingzhou. He didn’t know the technique’s name.

“Eye-Seeing Technique.”

Li Yi didn’t dare underestimate him. He wouldn’t let this final strike land. In this critical moment, he activated his Eye-Seeing Technique—the evolved ability of a Sensory-Realization cultivator.

His gaze flared. A powerful mental disruption struck Jin Zhihuan instantly.

Jin Zhihuan hadn’t expected such a technique. He’d staked everything on this single strike—no defense. He was struck immediately.

Hummm!

His consciousness reeled.

But he broke free quickly.

Yet in life-or-death combat, a single instant decides life or death. By the time he shook off the disruption, Li Yi’s fist had already arrived—faster than his blade.

Boom!

Punch force exploded like thunder again; his divine power poured forth once more.

Thunder God’s Hammer!

Jin Zhihuan’s pupils shrank as he saw the punch—but his body couldn’t dodge. He couldn’t summon his protective Gang qi. His vision went black as the fist struck his skull squarely.

“Crack!”

Punch force pierced through. Like the Gang of a Qi-refining expert, his head vanished instantly—exploding into a mist of blood. The Wind Listening Blade, mid-swing, lost all power, fell limply onto Li Yi’s shoulder, then was knocked away.

Clang.

The Wind Listening Blade hit the ground. So did Jin Zhihuan’s headless corpse.

This famed Qi-refining expert, even after forcing his heart’s blood to restore his peak, was still no match for Li Yi. He was slain in the front courtyard of his own martial school.

His death meant Li Yi had successfully seized the school.

“Not bad. Qi-refining is indeed formidable—hard to kill.” Li Yi slowly retracted his fist, his vertical pupils glowing as he assessed internally.

But only hard to kill—not impossible.

“We… we won.” Rong Niang’s heart finally eased. Tension melted from her face, replaced by a victorious smile.

Senior Brother had truly killed Jin Zhihuan, the master of the Jin Family Martial School.

Unbelievable. Truly unbelievable.

With Bone-Refining cultivation, he had crossed three realms to kill a Qi-refining expert. Such a thing truly existed in this world.

As always: Li Yi’s divine bravery is unmatched in a thousand ages.

With Jin Zhihuan’s death—

All the disciples watching nearby froze. They couldn’t believe it—but the corpse lay before them. They had to believe.

The master had been killed.

After a brief moment of acceptance, terror flooded through them.

Without the master, who could stop Senior Brother of the Zhao Family Martial School?

Every one of them had blood on their hands from Zhao disciples. Now that the tree had fallen, they would be purged.

Flee?

Instantly, the thought flashed through every mind.

Escape. Leave Sanyang City. Leave Xingzhou. Maybe they could survive.

They were many. If they scattered, Senior Brother of the Zhao School couldn’t possibly kill them all.

At this moment, all the core disciples—Bone-Marrow and Blood-Refining—shared the same thought. But none dared move first. The first to flee would be killed. Only those who waited might have a chance to live.

Yet Li Yi seemed to sense their agitation. His glowing vertical pupils snapped toward them.

Where his gaze fell, all trembled. The thought of escape vanished. Only dread and fear remained.

Rong Niang understood: the Qi-refining master was dead, but the vengeance wasn’t complete. She too turned to the others, her eyes filled with killing intent.

But she didn’t act. What came next depended on Senior Brother’s will.

Li Yi knew: Jin Zhihuan was dead. The Jin Family Martial School was finished. But its disciples still lived. If left unaddressed, they’d become trouble later. And in this world, the strong devour the weak—the victor takes all. The Zhao Family Martial School had once done this. Now, it must do so again.

With this thought, he coldly spoke: “You are all core disciples of the Jin Family Martial School. You share the blood debt of the Zhao Family.”

At these words—

Dozens of disciples broke into cold sweat. Some trembled in their legs, unable to bear the terror of imminent death.

“But as the saying goes: grudges have a source, debts have a master. Now that Jin Zhihuan—the master of this debt—is dead, I’m willing to offer you a path to life. Whether you grasp it depends on you. I’ve heard your Jin family’s blades are best at severing heads. So—bring me twenty heads of Jin disciples, and I swear: I’ll spare your lives. No further retribution.”

Li Yi held up two fingers and tossed them a chance to live: “You have fifteen minutes. When time’s up, the offer vanishes. I’ll come for you then. You may try to flee—if you think you can escape my grasp, I won’t stop you.”

“The path to life lies at your feet. Choose for yourselves.”

He kicked his foot, sending Jin Zhihuan’s Wind Listening Blade skidding to the disciples’ feet.

Clearly, Li Yi’s intent was obvious: let them kill each other.

Though the scheme was simple, it was effective now.

Even if none of you wished to do it, with so many here—what if someone beside you did?

Yet, staring at the blade, none moved.

It wasn’t that they were united, but that there weren’t enough heads to ensure survival; conversely, fleeing might be more advantageous.

But Li Yi’s next words shattered their hesitation entirely: “By the way, the heads of those lower-tier martial artists who left earlier count too. You’re strong enough to team up and hunt them down for me—I only care about the result, not the process.”

The moment he finished speaking,

a Blood-Refining martial artist immediately grew eager. His eyes darted uncertainly—better to cut off twenty heads and fulfill the quota than to flee and let others profit. After all, ordinary disciples were no match for him; one slash was enough. Why gamble with fate?

Besides, Li Yi had sworn an oath—he would keep his word. No need to fear betrayal.

Thinking this through,

the Blood-Refining martial artist gritted his teeth and suddenly drew his swift blade: “Kill!”

His nearby Bone-Refining junior brother, caught off guard, had his head severed in one stroke.

His eyes flew open, filled with shock—but he could do nothing. All he heard was the whistle of the blade.

Once the first man moved, all their inner evils were unleashed.

They feared—if they didn’t act, they’d become someone else’s trophy, traded for a chance to live.

“I don’t want to die—I’ll trade the heads of those outer disciples for my life!” A Bone-Refining disciple roared as he charged toward the outer disciples’ quarters.

Seeing this, the others sprang into action.

But the Blood-Refining martial artist didn’t care—he was the strongest in the hall now. Cutting off twenty heads was effortless. He killed anyone he saw, avoiding only others of equal strength.

Suddenly, the once-quiet Jin Family Martial Hall echoed with screams and clashes.

The ordinary disciples had no idea what was happening. They only saw their once-powerful senior brothers charging in with swords, severing heads before they could react—heads now held aloft by their killers.

As the instigator, Li Yi remained cold as iron, his expression calm, unmoved.

“Big Brother, your idea is brilliant—turning them against each other—but you’ll let many Jin Family disciples escape. Some will surely flee in the chaos, and we can’t stop them,” Rong Niang said. Though she admired Li Yi’s tactic, she saw its flaw.

“I know many will escape. Many will flee in the chaos. But I never intended to pursue them. As the Art of War says: killing is secondary; breaking the spirit is primary. After this, the Jin Family Martial Hall’s morale is shattered—they’ll never rise again.”

Li Yi said calmly: “As I said before, the process doesn’t matter—only the result. Rong Niang, I don’t want those heads. I want the Jin Family Martial Hall erased completely from San Yang City.”

“Tell me—after this, will those Jin disciples seek revenge on me… or on their own senior brothers?”

“So that’s how it is,” Rong Niang whispered, her pupils contracting. Instantly, cold sweat broke out on her back.

Because if she were in their place, she couldn’t have escaped either.

Even if you killed no one and slipped away unscathed—how could you ever serve a martial hall where you once slaughtered your own brothers?

“It’s too bad those damned beasts get off easy.”

Rong Niang clenched her teeth. Though she knew this was the best option, the thought that many of them had spilled her junior brothers’ blood made her fury hard to swallow.

“There’s no choice—we’re only two. Cleaning up every last one is impossible. We’ve wasted too much time already. The Han Family Martial Hall is waiting.”

Li Yi patted Rong Niang’s shoulder: “The fire’s lit here. Let it burn. We don’t need to guard it. Let’s go—to the next one.”

“Yes,” Rong Niang nodded, though her heart resisted, she accepted the outcome.

Soon,

the two left the Jin Family Martial Hall and rode off at full gallop.

Moments after Li Yi and Rong Niang departed,

a Blood-Refining martial artist laughed loudly as he returned to the courtyard, dragging a string of dripping, bloody heads.

“I’ve brought twenty heads. As agreed, spare my life. Where is he?”

The Blood-Refining martial artist saw the empty courtyard—and his smile froze.

This… this isn’t how I imagined it?

Did you really trust us so much? You knew we’d complete the task, bring twenty heads—and still didn’t bother to watch, or count? Not even a hint of caution?

He glanced outside.

Outside the shattered gate, the horses of Zhao Shiwu and Rong Niang were gone. The two had truly left.

Then… what use were these twenty heads?

But no one gave him an answer.

All he knew: the Jin Family Martial Hall was utterly destroyed. No one would speak of it again. No one would ever seek revenge for it.