Chapter 23: Exterminating the Cult of Chaos, Cultivating the Righteous Spirit-Escolha uma de três opções diariamente e torne-se um Espadachim Imortal Supremo(Quatro Bolos)

"Young man, kill us."

"Seeking death?"

"Yes. This White Lotus Sect has swallowed us like a quagmire; living is worse than dying."

Lin Jingyu had been slain in the blink of an eye. Just as Yang Le turned away, the several women who had been trampled under Lin Jingyu's feet begged Yang Le to strike them down in tones of profound sorrow.

Kill them.

Their beautiful, flushed faces were masks of madness and seduction, as wanton as spring willows, yet strangely, a flicker of clarity remained within them. It was as if this were the final spark of consciousness before falling into an abyss.

"You could have fled." Yang Le spoke calmly, his sword still sheathed.

"There is no escape. I was once a girl of good upbringing, but once a human cauldron, always a human cauldron. To die by a young man's blade..." The women’s eyes shimmered with a bleak resignation. "That is good enough."

"If you will not, we shall do it ourselves..."

In the next heartbeat, the women gritted their teeth and threw themselves forward, impaling their bodies upon Yang Le’s blade.

With a single thrust through their hearts, they were gone.

"Thank you."

Before they died, their soft, melodic voices seemed to carry a sense of relief. "Remember, this is a good deed."

"You are welcome."

Yang Le withdrew his longsword with a calm expression, though his face betrayed a subtle change—perhaps anger, perhaps helplessness. After a moment, his emotions settled, and he let out a long breath, his gaze regaining its clarity.

In a chaotic world of sorrow and suffering, seeking death... perhaps it truly was a mercy.

"The Bone Branch of the White Lotus Sect must be eradicated..."

Until now, Yang Le had only involved himself with the sect for the sake of self-preservation; the world was too vast, and he was but one man unable to turn the tide. But now, a new purpose had taken root in his heart.

To slay the cults of this chaotic era and cultivate a righteous spirit.

The sword in Yang Le’s hand was sharp, but the sword in his heart had been uncertain—until now. A sudden realization dawned on him.

To walk the path of the sword of righteous spirit, to strike down everything he saw that was unjust.

It was possible.

He could not save the world, but he could save people, and he could uphold the path of righteousness.

It was feasible.

As Yang Le’s mind cleared, a subtle change occurred within the small sword in his dantian. A faint, insignificant wisp of pale blue energy began to swirl around the blade.

Yang Le’s sword became faster.

***

"Lin Jingyu is dead? He was the most prized disciple under the Elder, and even those 'fairies' among the sect members were nothing more than fuel for his cultivation!"

"Impossible, I have never seen such a sword..."

"A Seventh-Rank cultivator, and Lin Jingyu was killed in a single strike?!"

Lin Jingyu’s death had been too swift; there hadn't even been time to react. The cold light of Yang Le’s blade flashed, and the silver edge of his dark sword had sliced through Lin Jingyu’s head in a mere instant. By the time the surrounding crowd realized what had happened, Lin Jingyu and the corpses of his human cauldrons were already cold, leaving only Yang Le standing there.

Shock gripped everyone present. Had Lin Jingyu’s head not been severed from his body, they would never have believed what they were seeing.

Lin Jingyu was only nineteen and already at the Seventh-Rank, a peerless genius within the Bone Branch of the White Lotus Sect in Cangzhou. He had studied under the Grey Daoist, possessed the Green Lotus Token, held the position of senior disciple, and was the leader of the inner sect. With the resources of the entire Cangzhou Bone Branch at his disposal, many believed he was destined to become the Saint of the White Lotus Sect. In time, he might have even unified the sect or vied for the position of the Sect Master himself. His martial talent was the very reason the Grey Daoist had taken him as an apprentice.

But after today, it was all over.

Lin Jingyu was dead, killed by a swordsman even younger than himself. The pride of the White Lotus Sect had become nothing more than a cold corpse.

"Kill him! Use his blood as the catalyst for the blood sacrifice!"

"Under the White Lotus, all heretics must die!"

"If we don't kill him, the Elder will execute us to accompany Lin Jingyu in death!"

While still reeling from Yang Le’s display of power, the crowd’s eyes turned bloodshot. Wielding various weapons, they charged at him, their faces twisted with the despair of those who knew that if they failed to finish Yang Le, the Grey Daoist would show them no mercy.

Only by killing him did they have a chance at survival.

"Nothing but trash. After killing one, a pile of even weaker trash appears?"

Yang Le tossed Lin Jingyu’s head aside and smoothed the stray hairs from his forehead. "One thousand meters..."

He lunged into the crowd, slaughtering his way forward, his eyes fixed intently on the Grey Daoist in the white-topped sedan chair. To Yang Le, those of the Seventh-Rank were targets to be cut down in a heartbeat, and these weaker ones lacked even the ability to slow him down. Every flash of his sword claimed another life.

In their dying moments, their eyes remained wide with disbelief. How could Yang Le’s sword be so fast?

***

An ordinary sword is merely a trinket for a dandy.

Yang Le’s sword... was a blade of ultimate slaughter.

The silver-white edge had turned a deep crimson, and the foul blood pooling in the fuller of his blade dripped onto the ground.

"This battle ends with your death, Grey Daoist."

He had lost count of how many he had cut down by the time he reached the white-topped sedan chair. Yang Le looked up, fixing his icy gaze on the burly guards standing before him.

"Where is Lin Jingyu?" The Grey Daoist’s voice drifted from within the sedan, his raspy tone laced with confusion.

"Dead," Yang Le replied. Before the Grey Daoist could ask more, Yang Le interrupted, "Now, I have come to kill you."

He pointed his sword at the sedan.

"Lin Jingyu is dead?" The Grey Daoist, hearing Yang Le’s voice, sounded only mildly puzzled. He was merely curious about Lin Jingyu's whereabouts and why this youth was standing before him. But as Yang Le spoke again, the Grey Daoist’s tone shifted to one of astonishment. "You say you killed Lin Jingyu?"

"Yes. And now, I am here to kill you."

Without further hesitation, Yang Le swung his sword. A violent, concentrated sword aura surged from the dark blade, slicing through the air and tearing the white-topped sedan into shreds.

"The sword of the Great Qian... are you a man of the Great Qian?"

"Wait, so young? You actually have the strength to kill Lin Jingyu?"

As the sedan disintegrated, a figure was revealed. A grey robe draped over a thin, withered frame, and the skin on his face was like parchment, deeply lined with wrinkles.

Yang Le knew at once: this was the Grey Daoist.

Kill him.

In the blink of an eye, Yang Le remained silent, but his sword... had already struck.