Chapter 71: Talisman Sword Slays the Heavenly Prodigy

You're far stronger than other Qi Refining completers.

Jiang Ding nodded, circulating inner force through the twelve regular meridians, then channeling it into the sword tip, striking again—the sword shadow hung suspended in midair.

That’s the truth.

Among Qi Refining completers, Lu Jingtian, Yang Dongsheng, and others are nowhere near this man, whether in inner force or blade technique.

Ding! The blade and sword clashed again; massive inner force surged into the blade’s edge, shattering the inner force within it, spreading along the arm into the body.

Impossible—you’re not a Primordial, how can your inner force be so thick?

Hei Jin’s face flushed red as he desperately resisted the invading foreign inner force with Black Flame inner force; it took two units of effort to counter one unit of Chick Eagle inner force, and he paid the price of meridian damage to extinguish it.

In an instant, the area around Jiang Ding was covered in arrows; trees as thick as an adult’s waist were pierced through, and in some places, stones several fingers thick were punctured!

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Chen Chen, leading his troops to within forty paces, suddenly halted, staring forward in shock.

The seventh slash finally forced him back one step.

Jiang Ding said nothing.

Leave. You are no match for me.

The sounds of bang bang bang rang incessantly.

But now, is it truly so?

These tiny meridians can hold only extremely minute amounts of inner force; altogether, their total capacity still reaches twice that of an ordinary martial artist practicing a top-tier cultivation method, if not three times.

Added to that, the Chick Eagle inner force’s quality surpasses martial inner force—this situation is only natural.

To mobilize a large army, launch a full-scale siege, and then retreat without firing a single arrow—how will the Marquis view me?

Slash!

Like a peacock spreading its tail, eight pure-black Black Flame blades bloomed one after another before Jiang Ding.

If he were truly invincible, why would he have fled from Fucheng, and why would he have let me go?

The Black Flame inner force’s ability to burn inner force was utterly useless against this strange white inner force!

As long as I join Chen Chen’s Black Cloud Division, with his assistance and distraction, I must be able to… be able to…

Chen Chen laughed loudly, pointing at Jiang Ding hiding behind the boulder: “If he were truly strong, why would he hide like a rat?”

Boom! The eighth slash missed, plummeting toward the forest below; trees snapped, their cut ends charred black, and a boulder several zhang wide split cleanly in two.

He saw clearly: Hei Jin had already fled over twenty paces; with his speed, he could reach him in a few breaths, and safety would be assured.

Primordial blade qi!

Hei Jin, terrified, had no time to react when a sound like a popping bubble reached his ear—a long sword effortlessly pierced his thin inner force shield and stabbed toward his throat.

Undoubtedly, his camouflage uniform could not withstand this volley.

Within Dongling Prefecture, no one didn’t know the story of the founding ancestor of Qi Xuan Sect: legend said the Qi Xuan Ancestor wielded a hundred-paces flying sword, sweeping away all rivals, undefeated under heaven, revered by the martial world.

Hei Jin glimpsed a sliver of hope—then the figure before him vanished, leaving only a sword shadow in place.

This was his most powerful technique, inherited from the Knife Demon’s Secret Record: burning his inner force to the extreme, condensing Black Flame to its limit, slashing eight times in one instant upon a single point.

Hei Jin cursed loudly, dropped all pretense, and fled desperately toward Chen Chen’s approaching forces.

Damn it!

Jiang Ding’s expression hardened; his body swiftly dropped toward the ground, hiding behind a boulder four or five meters tall.

Jiang Ding, curled into a ball, stood up, leapt onto the treetop, and the talisman sword detached from Hei Jin’s chest, trembling as it shed its charred blood, then shot back as a golden light, hovering above his left shoulder.

…How is this possible… here… so far…

My life is over!

Leave?

This was a Primordial strike! Yet he was only pushed back ten or so steps, with no sign of even minor injury—what kind of monster is this!

!.

Bad…

Hei Jin sneered. The eighth slash grew even more terrifying; the air itself carried the scent of scorching.

But suddenly, a short, glowing crimson sword appeared from nowhere, piercing through his chest.

He, bearing the sun on his shoulder, seemed to have stepped from myth, filling soldiers and officers with inexplicable awe.

In Dongling Prefecture, no one didn’t know the story of the Qi Xuan Sect’s founding ancestor: legend said the Qi Xuan Ancestor wielded a hundred-paces flying sword, sweeping away all rivals, undefeated under heaven, revered by the martial world. Hei Jin’s inner force was confirmed to be Primordial, yet Chen Chen recalled a factor: both his own perception and Hei Jin’s battle with this man confirmed the opponent was merely Qi Refining. Could he be using a Primordial Blood Pill? Would the Marquis blame him—and his family—for cowardice, jeopardizing the Marquis’s own Primordial path?

Ding! No flashy tricks—under a single sword strike, six Black Flame blades were severed in succession; the blade pressure grew ever stronger.

Qi Refining—how many times can he summon a flying sword?

The third sword slash produced a perfect semicircle in midair.

Chen Chen had always thought it a legend—after all, which sect didn’t have tales of its ancestors achieving immortality?

He murmured softly, his body limp as he tumbled from the forest.

Black Flame Burns the Eight Directions!

To date, he had refined and nurtured 3,407 meridians, including the twelve regular meridians and their branches.

Look!

Shhh! A pure-black blade qi shot out from Hei Jin’s chest—Black Flame seethed, its aura far more terrifying than Hei Jin’s, carrying a strange sentience, targeting Jiang Ding with deadly precision.

Jiang Ding’s eyelid twitched—this self-targeting agility, infused with a trace of Primordial will, represented a qualitative leap beyond Qi Refining martial artists.

Intense pain surged from his chest; Hei Jin looked down to see a crimson sword tip piercing his heart, its scorching blade qi exploding, turning his insides into a pulp of meat.

Chen Chen’s face darkened and brightened alternately; suddenly he roared, taking the gamble.

He closed his eyes in despair.

The midday sun gathered toward him, blindingly bright; from afar, he looked as if he bore a tiny sun upon his shoulder.

Everything went smoothly—exploiting the flaw in this technique’s imperfect control, Jiang Ding had just struck down his foe when he suddenly sensed something wrong and violently retreated.

Jiang Ding warned.

No matter what, you will die today!

Jiang Ding growled, his entire inner force surging wildly into the sword, carving a perfect arc forward.

Just thick inner force!

Boom! As blade met sword, countless qi bursts exploded; Jiang Ding was slammed back over ten steps, tumbling into the forest, covered in leaves, utterly disheveled.

Of course, the deeper one goes, the finer the meridians refined and nurtured become—some so fine even Primordial martial artists cannot perceive them through inner vision, requiring cultivation chambers and spirit arrays.

These arrows must have been fired by Qi Refining martial artists—each capable of matching rifle bullets in power, and even stronger due to their greater mass.

Shhh-shhh-shhh! Years of brutal military training had made the armored soldiers’ movements instinctive; their taut bowstrings released, and dozens of triangular steel-tipped arrows pierced the air, covering the small area where Jiang Ding stood.

Sword Extension! This was the technique he had practiced most.

Fire arrows!

Chen Chen clenched his teeth, his mind racing.

His master once commented on this slash: under surprise, it could severely wound a Primordial.

Hei Jin coldly shouted, slashing once—Black Flame swept down from the heavens!

Hundred-Paces Flying Sword!

Jiang Ding simply slashed downward.

The sword pierced the air again; Hei Jin sensed danger, his body erupting in rolling Black Flame—far off, he looked like a flame deity.

The blade qi arrived in an instant, agile as if wielded by a master of blade technique.

Chen Chen blurted out; the soldiers and officers behind him were shaken.

Jing! He drew his sword and roared: “Whoever slays the bandits gets a thousand taels of silver, three ranks promoted, and one reading of the Hundred-Paces Flying Sword technique!”

“Whoever retreats shall be executed, and their entire family reduced to slaves!”

Seeing this, the armored officers’ troops lost all fear; hearing the generous rewards, their eyes blazed with fanaticism, and they roared in response.

Aye!

(End of Chapter)