King of Hundred Victories Saber

The night was like a massive and heavy black silk, pressing down heavily toward the earth, enveloping everything in the world completely. The indoor air seemed to be tightly grasped by an invisible giant hand with immense strength, becoming increasingly oppressive, suffocating Gong Simeng so much that she could hardly breathe.

She got up from the bed and paced back and forth in the cramped, narrow room. With every step she took, the wooden floor let out a creaky, low moan, softly sighing for her inner anxiety and turmoil.

Gong Simeng's brows were tightly knit, as if forming a dead knot. She racked her brain, wholeheartedly trying to think of a perfect solution that would benefit both sides, but her thoughts were like an entangled, intricate mess, with numerous strands, impossible to sort out, becoming more tangled the more she thought.

Outside the window, the wind silently blew past, softly rustling the curtains. That gentle sway seemed like a sharp hook, lightly plucking the strings of Gong Simeng's troubled and confused heart. She could no longer sleep, so she gritted her teeth, tapped the ground with her toes, and her figure darted away like a black lightning bolt.

In the blink of an eye, Gong Simeng had reached the outskirts of the city, where she witnessed Lie Quan and his men embroiled in fierce combat with a group of black-clad men. The scene was shocking, gradually unfolding a horrific war painting before her eyes.

As it turned out, after returning to Jinan Prefecture, Gong Simeng successfully connected with Lie Quan.

Following that, according to the directions Gong Simeng conveyed from Shi Feiyang, Lie Quan led his subordinates to leave Jinan Prefecture, charging without pause toward Mount Tai, determined to support Shi Feiyang in the decisive battle at Black Wind Stronghold.

Lie Quan led a group of over a hundred people, rushing to the foot of Baiyang Forest Peak on the outskirts.

The night was dense as ink, tightly wrapping the surroundings, quiet enough to unsettle one's heart, as if countless pairs of eyes lay hidden in the darkness, leaving chills down one's spine. At that moment, a group of black-clad men surged in from all directions like a tide with no warning. Each wielding a variety of weapons—swords, spears, axes, and hammers—their sharp blades reflected cold gleams in the darkness, akin to Death God's scythes.

The black-clad men moved with ghostly agility, swiftly surrounding Lie Quan and his men.

Their figures flickered in the darkness, resembling demons from hell, every move carrying an eerie air, sending chills up the spine. A cold wind howled by, and a figure slowly emerged from the shadows. Cloaked in black, his robe fluttered with the wind like a piece of dark cloud, exuding an indescribable eerie presence. He stood tall, but exuded a chilling coldness, like an eternal iceberg. His face was hidden behind a menacing mask, seemingly crafted from the spirits of countless wraiths, leaving only a pair of eyes glinting with cold light, sharp as stars in the night sky, making it impossible to discern his true visage.

His figure suddenly flickered like a black lightning, unleashing a move "Kindness Severance," with a momentum as fierce as a tiger's pounce, swiftly attacking Lie Quan. His movements were extraordinarily swift and fierce, each action seemingly carrying resentment from past lives, aiming to shred Lie Quan to pieces in an instant. The air seemed to be torn apart by his violent aura, emitting a "hiss" sound.

Facing this sudden fierce attack, Lie Quan remained calm and unperturbed, his gaze penetrating the darkness, discerning each of his opponent's intentions. With a thunderous shout, his voice boomed like a great bell, "Roar!" shaking the surrounding air, causing leaves to rustle down.

Rapidly drawing his long knife, it gleamed coldly in the darkness, like a meteor streaking across the night sky, instantly slicing through the gloom. His arm muscles were taut with bulging veins, like twisting snakes, as he wielded the Heaven and Earth Saber technique to confront his opponent.

The blade light flickered, akin to a blazing sun emerging from the clouds, intertwining with the black-robed man's palm wind, emitting a "clang" collision sound that reverberated the surrounding air, trembling the heavens and the earth with the fierce impact.

However, after several rounds, Lie Quan was suddenly alarmed, as if an invisible giant hand grasped his heart. His eyes revealed a touch of panic, like a calm lake disturbed by a boulder, sending ripples.

Lie Quan sharply realized that he was by no means a match for the black-robed man. The latter's palm technique was cunning and bizarre, each move like a sharp dagger imbued with lethal chill, aiming straight at his vitals. His Inner Strength was unfathomable, like a boundless deep sea, unfathomable, making Lie Quan feel insignificant and powerless in comparison. Each defense confronted a mountain-moving force, numbing his arms and squeezing his chest, leaving him unable to cope, like a lone boat amidst a storm, about to be swallowed by gigantic waves.

Gazing intently at the opponent's ghostly palm technique, Lie Quan inhaled sharply, exclaiming in shock, "Seven Breaks and Seven Extremes Heartbreak Palm?" His voice trembled, laced with an unmasked fear, echoing far in the silent night. The Seven Breaks and Seven Extremes Heartbreak Palm was an extremely profound and terrifying palm technique, those hit by it would surely die, their death contorted, as if smiling, yet that smile was more tragic than the saddest cry.

Seven Breaks refers to the severance of heart pulse, blood pulse, sinew pulse, liver and intestines, kidney water, bones, and wrist pulse; Seven Extremes stands for emotional severance, love severance, kindness severance, desire severance, pain severance, life and death severance, and longing severance.

The black-robed man let out a cold laugh, the sound echoing with endless chill, as if from the Nine Nether Hell, causing hair to stand on end, as if countless icy insects crawled upon one's spine. "Tonight, let this old fellow taste the Seven Breaks and Seven Extremes, die heartbreakingly. Hmph!" He displayed a sinister smile, like a demon's mockery, with ruthless gleams flickering in his eyes, as if savoring a forthcoming bloody feast.

As soon as the words fell, the black-robed man's palm technique became even fiercer, the moves increasingly vicious. His figure shuttled rapidly through the night like a black lightning bolt, raising a "whoosh" wind sound with each palm strike, carrying a doomsday force, compressing and twisting the air, making "crackling" sounds like firecrackers exploding.

Lie Quan, with all his might, resisted, but his arm swung ever slower, each move burdened with tremendous weight.

Sweat poured down his forehead, forming large beads that slid down his cheeks, dripping "drip drip" onto the ground like a countdown to his life's end. His breath grew labored, his chest heaving with intense "huff huff" sounds, like an old bellows about to cease.

The surrounding black-clad men pressed ever closer, their expressions cold, like emotionless killing machines. Their weapons gleamed with chilling light, akin to stars in the night sky, yet exuding an aura of death.

The disciples of the Heroic Sakura Association fought back fiercely, but the situation became increasingly dire.

Their faces displayed weariness and fear, all shrouded by a layer of gloom. Occasionally, a disciple would fall wounded to the ground, letting out a "ah" scream, echoing in the night like sharp knives piercing everyone's heart, causing chills.

Inwardly, Lie Quan lamented, his brows tightly knit as if they could kill a fly. His lips turned white from biting, yet he persisted with gritted teeth, unwilling to give up easily, his gaze like a torch in the cold night, burning with the last flicker of hope.

The black-robed man sneered once more, "Tonight, let you old fellow taste the Seven Breaks and Seven Extremes, die heartbreakingly. Hmph!"

Lie Quan, knowing well the extreme danger he was in, still kept his gaze firm, fixated on the black-robed man's moves, seeking any hint of a flaw. His eyes were wide open, not missing a single motion of the opponent.

The black-robed man's palm winds assaulted like a storm, each strike containing fatal power.

Lie Quan's arm was struck by the palm wind, a surge of pain hit, as if his arm was pounded by a heavy hammer, "bang," almost making him drop his knife. Enduring the pain, veins bulged on his forehead, as he swung his blade again toward the black-robed man, only for it to be effortlessly dodged by the other's side movement. The black-robed man's motions were as light as a dancing butterfly, graceful yet deadly.