The palm was as fair as jade, with golden light tracing through it. The fingers were long and nimble, capturing the sword edge as easily and delicately as trapping a bird in a net.
Clang...
It sounded like tal clashing against tal, echoing through the mountainside.
The sword light was buzzing, struggling, but it couldn’t escape that palm, or rather, those three fingers, as it jumped powerlessly and hopelessly, unable to break free.
Dong An’s face turned red, his robe billowing, unsure whether to advance or retreat. He had switched to holding the sword with both hands, but the sword remained motionless, as if stuck in mid-air, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pull it back.
This ti, all the disciples fell silent.
All had their mouths agape, not knowing what to say to express their astonishnt.
"You hit with a sleeve, slashed with a sword, so I return a sword to you, isn’t that fair?"
Chen Ping’s eyes were calm, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Without waiting for Dong An to respond, he took it as if the other had no objections.
The Black Dragon Sword didn’t even leave its sheath, transforming into a raging dragon with a deep, resonant howl, and like patting a ping-pong ball, it swept towards Fourth Elder Dong An.
The sword wind swept across.
Winds howled around, dust rose from the ground, a thick layer being scraped off.
The air cracked like thunder...
Amid the crackling, Dong An only had ti to let go of the sword hilt with both hands, shout loudly, and cross his arms in front of him in a defensive X.
Then, he was struck by Chen Ping’s sweeping sword.
"Crackle..."
A series of rapid sounds like torrential rain erupted, and everyone saw Fourth Elder Dong An’s arms tear like paper, bones and blood splattering, his body flung into the air.
Under the impact, the bones of his upper body followed with explosive cracking sounds, his round Buddha-like face twisted, and his body, only halfway in the air, had already gone limp.
"Thud..."
Dong An flew over ten zhang, falling heavily to the ground, creating a large crater, shuddering briefly before becoming motionless.
Silence enveloped the surroundings.
Even the pairs of experts locked in fierce combat seed to lose their killing intent significantly, their moves turning much more cautious.
Harm to one’s kin.
A fourth elder at their level was swatted to death like a fly.
Both allies and adversaries were overwheld with complex thoughts, not knowing what to say.
Winning or losing here seed to hold no aning.
What truly decided the outco of the battle was not them.
"Look, you can’t even withstand a single sword from , yet you think of descending the mountain to support the dragon. Aren’t you overthinking it?"
Chen Ping chuckled, sheathed his sword, rested it on his shoulder, and looked at the other two elders locked in combat, smiling: "Masters, why not rest a bit? These traitors aren’t much of a challenge, no need for you to step in."
"Leave it to this disciple to handle. Let’s give the grand-disciple a chance to exercise."
As these words were spoken, the observing disciples’ intent to fight truly waned.
Seven Stars ridian disciples looked around, the sharp ones already eyeing the path down the mountain, ready to retreat at a mont’s notice.
The Seven Stars ridian elders, Yann Fu and Xiao Ming, feigned a sword move, shifting swiftly from attacking to defending, their sword lights flashing as they began to retreat.
Their gaze towards Chen Ping carried a hint of fear.
Clearly, they were afraid Chen Ping might strike silently, and after witnessing Fourth Elder Dong An’s tragic end, no one dared guarantee they could withstand such an overwhelming sword strike.
That wasn’t a sword; it was as if a small mountain was crashing down...
The actions of the two Seven Stars ridian elders were sowhat panicked, their heart and spirit unsettled, drawing laughs from the Primordial Lineage disciples.
Earlier, they were so aggressive; now, they were utterly embarrassed, which was satisfying yet gratifying.
Looking at Chen Ping and his pupils, curiosity glimred in their eyes.
"Are all the disciples down the mountain this fierce?"
Back then, Senior Brother Han said he was going down the mountain to seek out talented individuals, to surely glorify the Primordial Golden Body Technique and revive the Primordial Sect.
The words still echoed in their ears, yet no one took it seriously, assuming he couldn’t withstand the austerities of the mountain life, intending to escape to the mundane world to get married and settle down as a wealthy man.
Yet, unexpectedly, they truly achieved it.
Was this a disciple, or had they returned with an ancestor?
Seeing the dark golden patterns flowing with brilliance on Chen Ping’s body, all Primordial Sect disciples were filled with envy, involuntarily swallowing saliva.
This was Golden Body Perfection. In a hundred years, the Primordial Sect had never seen a Golden Body Technique practitioner with such a cultivation realm.
The glory of the Golden Body Technique mostly appeared in the sect’s ancient books and in orally transmitted stories.
Today, they witnessed it for real.
"Are there a lot of flowers blooming on our mountain? Why does it sll so fragrant?" Han Xiaoru, never short of things to say after being smacked on the head by her mother for over a decade, still had the mind to comnt on the fragrance of flowers.
"Indeed it’s quite fragrant, but no, too fragrant."
Chen Ping replied casually, feeling a twinge in his heart, his expression suddenly changing.
Because, having just killed an elder, according to his usual style, he should now press his advantage, subdue the Seven Stars ridian, quell this Primordial Sect rebellion, and overco the crisis.
This was the aning of beating a drowning dog.
This era didn’t care for righteousness or softness towards opponents.
After all, the opponent was bristling with killing intent, aiming to annihilate the sect.
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