Chapter 66: Seventy-Five Thousand Spirit Stones, I Want Them All!
By the ti Yang Yun reacted, Han Lie’s black blade was already inches from his face. He scrambled backward to dodge, but the edge still carved a shallow, bloody gash across his ribs. While the physical wound was minor, the corrosive energy surging from the blade caused Yang Yun’s expression to darken instantly.
"Bastard!"
Feeling his vitality draining and his flesh beginning to necrotize, Yang Yun cursed under his breath. He swiftly tapped a pair of pressure points with two fingers, using his spiritual power to seal the wound and halt the spread of the necrotic rot. Even so, the deadened patch of flesh on his torso was a constant, throbbing distraction that hampered his movents.
With a single sequence, Han Lie had repelled Yang Tian and wounded Yang Yun. Behind him, Zhuo Hongyi stood frozen in place. She had been on the verge of warning him not to act impulsively, but it was clear now that she had drastically underestimated his strength.
"Senior Brother Yang Yun!"
The dozen or so Foundation Establishnt Stage disciples of the Sun Moon Sect stared in wide-eyed disbelief. They wondered if they were caught in a collective fever dream. Han Lie’s aura clearly pegged him as a mid-stage Foundation Establishnt weakling, yet he had just suppressed two mid-stage Golden Core Stage experts simultaneously.
"This old man is concealing his aura! His true cultivation is at least at the mid Golden Core Stage—possibly a step away from the late stage. Do not underestimate him!" Yang Tian roared as he rushed back into the fray, his face contorted with rage.
Han Lie hovered in mid-air, his black blade wreathed in scorching spiritual flas. A light breeze tugged at his coarse sleeves, making them flutter with a sharp, snapping sound.
"You might be overestimating This Senior a bit," Han Lie said indifferently. He relaxed his ntal shroud, allowing his true aura to explode outward, settling firmly at the early Golden Core Stage.
"Early Golden Core?!" "Impossible!"
Yang Tian and Yang Yun stared at him, stunned. They would have found it easier to believe he was a near-late-stage powerhouse than to accept he was an early-stage "ant." If word got out that two mid-stage brothers were bullied by a single early-stage newcor, where would they ever hide their faces again?
Han Lie let out a mocking chuckle. "Captain Hongyi, you handle the ten thousand Spirit Stones over there. This Senior will secure these sixty thousand."
"What Spirit Stones?" Yang Tian barked, not imdiately grasping the comnt.
"Oh? You don't know?" Han Lie explained with mocking "rcy." "Your Sun Moon Sect disciples are worth one thousand Spirit Stones for a Foundation Establishnt head and thirty thousand for a Golden Core head."
"This Senior did a simple calculation. Killing the lot of you yields seventy-five thousand Spirit Stones. I want them all!"
The Yang brothers’ eyelids twitched violently at the blatant disrespect.
"Empty words from a loud mouth," Yang Tian snorted. "I was rely careless before. You think you’ve won? Let tell you sothing."
"Your Heavenly Void Sect Golden Core heads aren't worth as much to us—only twenty thousand. But mosquito at is still at. Once I kill you, I’ll take your head back to claim the bounty!"
"Kill him!" The Foundation Establishnt disciples surrounding them felt their morale surge. Indeed, they had just been caught off guard. Since Han Lie was only at the early Golden Core Stage, there was nothing to fear from a two-on-one fight.
"Han Lie?" Zhuo Hongyi looked at him, her eyes searching his. Tactically, the odds were still against them. Han Lie simply waved a hand, a silent signal she understood instantly.
"If you truly possessed the capability to take my head, This Senior wouldn't mind. It’s just a pity..." Han Lie’s eyes turned cold. "You don't."
The mont the words left his lips, he vanished.
He charged straight for the injured Yang Yun. This ti, Yang Yun was ready. "A re early-stage brat dares to boast? Die!" A trident gleaming with a frigid light materialized in his hands. With a murderous roar, he thrust it directly at Han Lie’s chest.
However, Han Lie’s frontal assault was a re feint. The mont the trident lunged, Han Lie’s figure flickered like a guttering candle. He bypassed the weapon entirely, driving his black blade toward Yang Yun’s throat.
Yang Yun, a mid-stage veteran, was no pushover. Though startled, he reacted with practiced instinct. He leaned his body back at an impossible angle, the black blade whistling past his neck, missing by a hair’s breadth.
At that sa mont, a wave of bone-chilling intent surged from behind Han Lie.
It was Yang Tian.
While orthodox disciples might cling to notions of martial honor, the Sun Moon Sect was a demonic organization. They had no qualms about ganging up on a junior or striking from the shadows. To them, history was written by the victors; the thod of the win was irrelevant.
Facing the sneak attack, Han Lie remained unfazed. He delivered a brutal kick to Yang Yun’s chest to create distance, then spun mid-air, his blade screaming as it t Yang Tian’s sword.
Clang!
The collision sent a startling ripple of spiritual power through the night. After a brief, grinding stalemate, both n were blasted backward by the shockwave. However, Han Lie stabilized himself almost instantly, while Yang Tian stumbled through the air.
"Ti to finish this!" Seeing that Han Lie could hold his own against the brothers, Zhuo Hongyi turned her icy, lethal gaze toward the dozen Foundation Establishnt disciples.
Despite their numbers, the juniors felt their blood run cold as they faced a mid-stage Golden Core expert.
"Don't be afraid! She’s alone! If we swarm her together, she can't kill us all!"
"Ignorant," Zhuo Hongyi whispered. The slaughter began.
On the other front, Han Lie was locked in a fierce dance with the Yang brothers. Despite being outnumbered and at a realm disadvantage, his superb combat experience—bolstered by the relentless vitality of the Pure Yang Sacred Body—allowed him to maneuver through their assaults. He showed no signs of fatigue; if anything, his aura grew more oppressive as the battle raged.
The Yang brothers’ expressions grew increasingly grim. They had the cultivation edge and the numbers, and their coordination was seamless enough to challenge late-stage experts. How was this "old man" pushing them into such a corner?
"We can't drag this out!" Yang Tian shouted.
They realized that the longer the fight lasted, the more Han Lie’s montum built. They simultaneously retreated, breaking contact and exiting Han Lie’s imdiate reach. Their hands blurred, weaving a series of obscure, complex seals in perfect unison.
The temperature in the grove plumted, frosting the leaves in an instant.
"Great Yin Art!"
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