Chapter 211: Capturing Three Purple Mansion Cultivators—Jiang Han's Joy

"Being able to die in my place is a blessing your lowly self has cultivated across three lifetimes!"

The woman let out a cold laugh, not the slightest trace of guilt in her heart!

As a Purple Mansion cultivator of noble status, why would she care about the life or death of ordinary people?

However, just as the woman's flawless white palm was less than a meter from the youth, something unexpected happened.

Whoosh—

A streak of sword-light appeared in a way no one had anticipated!

The woman's pupils contracted, alarm bells ringing in her heart, a sudden sense of foreboding!

She wanted to dodge, but it was already too late.

Under that single sword strike, flesh was torn from bone, fresh blood spraying in all directions!

Her palm was instantly severed by the incomparably sharp blade!

The woman's face twisted grotesquely as she let out a shrill scream.

Yet all of this was only the beginning.

Before she could react, Jiang Han suddenly appeared before her, his right palm shooting out swiftly to cover her face!

The Huang Quan Demonic Art activated!

In an instant, a terrifying suction force emanated from Jiang Han's palm, madly drawing in the woman's essence, qi, and spirit!

The woman's skin rapidly lost its moisture, becoming incomparably withered.

Witnessing such a horrifying scene, even someone as bold as Cai Zhiyin couldn't help but freeze, her expression a mix of shock and uncertainty.

Where on earth did this unorthodox little brat spring from?

At the same time, the people of the Yin Wind Stockade and the Blue Silver Merchant Caravan on the scene were all terrified pale.

Some even collapsed to the ground, wetting themselves.

Afterward, Jiang Han stopped absorbing, first tossing the woman—who had already withered into an aged appearance—casually aside like garbage.

He raised his head, looking toward Cai Zhiyin not far away.

Without a single word.

Only the continuous stream of Huang Quan origin qi surging from within his body, spreading outward, causing all things to wither!

Immediately after, Jiang Han employed his escape art, his figure flashing as he arrived before Cai Zhiyin and delivered a fierce palm strike!

Origin qi condensed into an invisible withered-yellow giant palm, leaving his body several zhang in the blink of an eye, landing upon the opponent!

Cai Zhiyin had just been through a battle, her condition already poor; in desperation, she released origin power to resist!

However, before the terrifying Huang Quan origin qi, the origin power she had been so proud of instantly melted and was pierced through, then returned to nothingness!

A massive amount of Huang Quan origin power enveloped the opponent's body.

Amidst a series of agonized screams, Cai Zhiyin's four limbs dissolved into blood.

This was not because Jiang Han couldn't kill her, but to avoid her death causing the essence, qi, and spirit available for absorption to diminish and the effect to worsen.

Therefore, turning her into a human stick state—unable to cause trouble, unable to escape.

For Jiang Han, this was undoubtedly the best choice.

Immediately after, paying no heed to Cai Zhiyin's pleas for mercy and wails.

He silently looked toward the people of the Yin Wind Stockade and the Blue Silver Merchant Caravan before him.

To prevent the news from leaking, he didn't hesitate in the slightest, immediately choosing to strike and silence them!

Before Jiang Han, who possessed an Emperor-grade art like the Huang Quan Demonic Art.

Su Shan, the second boss of the Yin Wind Stockade and likewise a Purple Mansion cultivator, was but an enemy of a single exchange—one move, not even enough time to flee, and just like Cai Zhiyin, instantly turned into a human stick.

Seeing the gruesome fate of the first and second bosses, the scene instantly descended into chaos.

Numerous Yin Wind Stockade members immediately scattered in all directions.

Even the people of the Blue Silver Merchant Caravan understood that the person before them was likely a practitioner of the demonic path.

They dared not gamble on luck, desperately fleeing one and all.

However, before Jiang Han, whose escape art had reached great completion, they were still far too slow.

Before long, everyone lay dead before him.

The ground was covered with densely packed corpses.

Jiang Han stood at the center, gazing up at the sky, his expression cold and stern.

Immediately after, he unhurriedly withdrew his gaze.

With a casual wave, a massive surge of Huang Quan origin power gushed forth, falling upon these corpses and instantly reducing them all to pools of blood!

After finishing all this, Jiang Han turned to look at Cai Zhiyin and Su Shan, who had been turned into human sticks, as well as the exceptionally aged woman.

His gaze grew brighter, his heart blazing with excitement.

He wondered how much his strength would skyrocket after absorbing these three Purple Mansion cultivators.

Meanwhile.

Cangwu Mountain, near the martial arts arena.

A slender girl in black tight-fitting clothes, her black hair bound high with a red cord, held a long sword and continuously sparred with a middle-aged man before her!

Her entire body was drenched in sweat, her mouth constantly heaving with heavy breaths.

Slashes, thrusts, stabs—each move probed forth, yet all were easily neutralized by the middle-aged man.

After ten moves.

The middle-aged man shook his head: "Zhiwei, although you've diligently practiced sword techniques over the years and your forms and routines can be considered proficient, you've lost the spiritual quality—too rigid. The Way of the Sword lies in variation...."

"Several full years with not the slightest progress clearly shows that you're not suited to cultivating the Sword Dao. Even if you put in effort and sweat hundreds or thousands of times that of an ordinary person, it remains the same."

Hearing the middle-aged man's words, Jiang Zhiwei's expression didn't change; she remained stubbornly herself, executing various sword moves in her attack!

The middle-aged man sighed, gripped his sword hilt, and with a casual flick sent the longsword flying from Jiang Zhiwei's hand!

"Haven't you seen it clearly yet? You don't possess a talent for the Sword Dao — why not consider trying another path? Why insist on a road that simply isn't suited for you?"

"If you keep going like this, I'm afraid you won't even have the qualification to represent our Tianquan branch in the Seven Branches Grand Competition in the future!!"

Facing the rebuke, Jiang Zhi merely bit down on her crimson lips, her eyes fixed firmly on the middle-aged man.

Their gazes met.

Sensing her resolve, the middle-aged man let out a soft sigh, slid his sword back into the sheath at his waist, then pressed a hand to his forehead and said, "Sigh, how did I end up with such a stubborn daughter?"

He had no idea why his daughter had been so obsessed with the Sword Dao since childhood — to the point that she'd even neglected her cultivation considerably.

She was already eighteen years old now, yet her cultivation base was only at the first layer of the Bone Tempering realm.

Clearly, given her talent, if she had devoted herself fully to cultivation, by now she'd probably be at the ninth layer of Bone Tempering, or even in the Postnatal realm, right?

Facing her father's questioning, Jiang Zhiwei said nothing further, merely ran over to the longsword and picked it back up.

She tightened her grip on the hilt and held the blade suspended before her chest.

Those pitch-black eyes were reflected in the mirror-like, silver-white blade.

Once again, she felt a stirring deep within her heart.

There was a secret she had never told anyone — every time she held a sword, an inexplicable sense of joy would well up inside her!

This joy surpassed everything else, so even if it meant more hardship and exhaustion, she would take it gladly, never once thinking of giving up!

Yet, even after giving everything, her current Sword Dao realm was only at the Swordsmanship realm — Perfect — and she hadn't advanced a single step in years!

But even so, she wasn't the least bit discouraged.

She only wondered if she was simply duller than others, and needed to work twice as hard to reap any reward.

Right after that, not wanting to waste a single moment, she silently continued executing her sword forms.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man sighed, said no more, turned around and left.

Jiang Zhiwei's whole body was aching with soreness.

She paid it no heed, simply continuing to practice her sword forms.

Years of bitter training had long since made her palms unlike those of an ordinary woman — instead, they were covered in calluses and scars.