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Without a word, swords were drawn and blood was spilled!
Yong Ji remained unfazed, releasing his spiritual sword and glaring fiercely at Zheng Cong, ready to strike.
He knew that Zheng Cong had just lost an arm and his strength must have diminished significantly. Cultivators rely on both hands to perform magical techniques with their swords, and Zheng Cong, now with only one arm and no prosthetic yet fitted, was undoubtedly weakened.
As expected, Zheng Cong was thrown into disarray by Yong Ji's relentless assault. Yong Ji, who lacked skills in alchemy, refining tools, and formations, excelled in combat. His prowess in battle was unmatched by ordinary cultivators of the same level.
The other two Foundation Establishment mid-stage cultivators, unable to fly as they were below the Elemental Infant stage, launched their attacks from the ground, a situation they found awkward.
Yong Ji's spiritual sword was incredibly powerful, unleashing flames that instantly set the surrounding trees ablaze. With his strength, he fought evenly against three opponents, moving swiftly and leaving Zheng Cong without a way to gain the upper hand.
Zheng Cong, frustrated and resentful, cursed his luck. If not for the loss of his arm, he wouldn't be in such a passive position.
Yong Ji realized the limitations of their battleground, as it was enveloped by an ancient suppression formation that not only grounded them but also dampened the power of their spiritual swords. Only basic sword techniques had any effect.
What should have been a spectacular display of Foundation Establishment combat was reduced to an ugly brawl, akin to a fight between low-level cultivators.
The two mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators grew increasingly alarmed. Yong Ji's spiritual sword was ferocious and of exceptional quality; any contact with their swords resulted in immediate damage, leaving them hampered, especially Zheng Cong, who couldn't maneuver his sword with his usual agility.
Yong Ji, seizing the advantage, focused on using his Qianyang Sword to forcefully cleave at their swords. His extensive combat experience quickly revealed his superiority.
The sound of metal clashing rang out like a blacksmith at work. Soon, the two assisting cultivators began to retreat, as a cultivator's sword is their second life; when it's in danger, they naturally evade.
More attacks began to land on Zheng Cong, who cried out in distress.
"So much for that!"
The words were hurtful, but Zheng Cong had no retort. He was dismayed by his misfortune, first at the hands of a child and now Yong Ji, even with two helpers, he couldn't win.
As the stalemate continued, suddenly a figure appeared in the midst of the fray.
With a flick of his fingers—ding, ding, ding, ding—four swords were sent flying in disarray.
Zheng Cong bellowed, "Who dares? You're courting death!"
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But Yong Ji, recognizing the newcomer, retreated in shock.
Thousand Poisons Qian!
This was a master with the strength of Great Perfection in the Elemental Infant stage. Yong Ji knew he was no match for Thousand Poisons Qian, not even a chance to escape; the disparity in their strength left him in despair.
Slap! Slap!
Two resounding slaps, back and forth across the face, left Zheng Cong's head spinning. Confused, he yelled, "You dare hit me?"
Yong Ji, hearing this, silently commended Zheng Cong's audacity.
"You... you..."
Finally, Zheng Cong sensed something amiss. He didn't recognize Thousand Poisons Qian, and although he had heard of him recently, he never expected to encounter him. After receiving two slaps, he realized just how formidable this person was.
Thousand Poisons Qian spoke with a smirk, "I heard... someone wants my life?"
Zheng Cong felt darkness encroach, his legs weakened, nearly collapsing. He didn't dare flee; facing an Elemental Infant stage master here, there was no chance, especially trapped within the ancient suppression formation.
Thousand Poisons Qian didn't attack immediately but pointed at the three and said, "Stand aside. Don't think of escaping. If you can, I'll take your surname!"
The three, pale-faced, realized the vast gap between them and couldn't muster the will to resist, obediently moving aside.
Yong Ji's spiritual sword hovered beside him, despair filling his heart. He stood no chance against Thousand Poisons Qian, who was simply too powerful.
Thousand Poisons Qian sauntered up to Yong Ji and reached out, snatching his spiritual sword with ease. Yong Ji cast a magical technique, and the Qianyang Sword burst into flames, trying to break free.
"Stop!"
A single word of true command extinguished the flames. Thousand Poisons Qian wiped the sword, severing Yong Ji's connection to it. He marveled at the quality, "Indeed, the sects are wealthy. Even a Foundation Establishment youngster wields such a fine spiritual sword. A nice spoil of war!"
This move left Yong Ji too afraid to act, his eyes filled with hopelessness. Thousand Poisons Qian was simply too strong; there was no chance of escape, only to wait and see what he wanted.
Thousand Poisons Qian was petty and vengeful, a true scoundrel. With his formidable strength, he acted directly, without regard for others' opinions or feelings.
After taking Yong Ji's spiritual sword, Thousand Poisons Qian turned to Zheng Cong and, without a word, unleashed a series of slaps, leaving Zheng Cong dazed and confused, then kicked him to the ground.
Thousand Poisons Qian taunted, "Why so silent now? Weren't you going to kill me? Come on, try!"
Zheng Cong was terrified, clueless about how to avert this deadly crisis or what to say in response.
After a thorough beating, Thousand Poisons Qian's mood improved significantly. He had been in a foul mood after being relentlessly pursued by Brahman Sa and Yin Jin, barely managing to escape. This beating allowed him to vent some of his frustration.
Finally coming to his senses, Zheng Cong pleaded, "Senior, spare my life!"
Thousand Poisons Qian pondered, "Spare you? That won't be easy. I'm short a few Golden Elixirs... Haha, what do you think could save your life?"
The threat of using Golden Elixirs was a sinister tactic, causing Zheng Cong to break out in a cold sweat. Cultivators often employed cruel methods, such as exploiting Golden Elixirs or Elemental Infants, which to a cultivator meant a fate worse than death, an absolute terror, utterly unbearable.
Thousand Poisons Qian glanced at Zheng Cong's storage bag at his waist, gestured, and the bag flew into his hand. After a brief inspection, he scoffed, "Pauper!"