Chapter 27: Clearing the Field

"I said I would slay you with this sword, and so I have."

After decapitating the Taoist in grey, Yang Le moved naturally to the side of the corpse. He delivered two more strikes to the left and right sides of the chest, ensuring the heart had been thoroughly pulverized by his blade, leaving no possibility of survival. Only then did Yang Le sheath his sword.

He cast his gaze toward the surrounding White Lotus Cult members with indifferent eyes. His look was as calm as water, yet it carried a trace of awe-inspiring authority. Though Yang Le stood alone, he possessed the presence of a thousand-strong army. Even with his sword sheathed, he exerted a pressure that left everyone present struggling to breathe.

No one dared to take a single step forward. The ferocity previously etched on the faces of these ruthless cultists had vanished completely, replaced only by fear and shock.

"The Elder is dead... killed by that one strike..."

"Seventh-grade? You're telling me the person who unleashed that sword energy is only seventh-grade?"

"Impossible. This absolutely cannot be the power of a seventh-grade martial artist. Even those in the middle tiers could not achieve such a level!"

Yang Le's sword was simply too formidable—so much so that it instantly sobered the crowd, who had previously been driven into a state of fanatical, reckless madness. Although the strike had contained no externalized true energy or martial blood-aura—it was merely a pure, simple sword stroke—it had caused the very heavens to change color. Though it lasted only for a moment, everyone understood that Yang Le’s swordsmanship was far from being as simple as "seventh-grade."

One could say that while Yang Le killed the Taoist in grey, he simultaneously severed the very will of those who had intended to kill him.

Having finally recovered from the oppressive weight of his sword intent, they dared not even look at him, let alone raise a hand. They only wished for him to leave immediately. They did not want to die. Since joining the White Lotus Cult, they had viewed commoners as nothing more than ants. Now, they saw that same look in Yang Le’s eyes—a look they knew all too well. It was the look they reserved for ants. But this time, they realized they were the ones who were the ants in Yang Le’s eyes.

As the Taoist in grey fell and Yang Le’s sword aura dominated the field, the fanatical believers regained their senses and scattered in a panic. Soon after, the outer disciples of the Lotus Cult dropped their weapons and fled as well. Only a few inner disciples and the remaining personal students of the Taoist in grey stayed behind. They did not remain out of a desire for revenge, but because Yang Le’s sword intent remained locked onto them. They knew without a shadow of a doubt that if they made any sudden moves, the youth who had just slain their master would kill them without hesitation.

"Young hero, have mercy! We never intended to be your enemies. If not for that thieving Taoist coercing us, we never would have committed such beastly acts."

"I possess a secret of the martial path! I wish to trade it for my life!"

"That thieving Taoist came to Qinghe County searching for a mad girl and a piece of bone. The Great Qian is offering a bounty for this object, and the Taoist sent us here after hearing rumors that it was in Qinghe County."

Before Yang Le could even speak, the few remaining men knelt, desperate to save their lives, and revealed the reason for the Taoist’s aggressive actions.

"A girl and a fragment of bone..."

Hearing this, Yang Le realized he had been caught in an unprovoked disaster; had it not been for this, he might not have needed to strike. Yet, as he pondered, he suddenly recalled something. It seemed that Changsun Ji, who had already died by his blade, had also come to Cangzhou for a girl.

Yang Le glanced behind him at Li Qi'er, who was still lost in thought over his previous strike. He shook his head. *Forget it, I’m overthinking it.* Although Li Qi'er was a girl, she was not insane.

"Get up," Yang Le said, looking at the kneeling cultists. "Watching you kneel is exhausting."

"The young hero will not kill us?"

"We will never forget your mercy. We thank you, young hero!"

"After today, we will surely leave the White Lotus Cult."

Hearing this, the cultists instinctively assumed Yang Le was letting them go. They hurriedly scrambled to their feet, showering him with desperate flattery and thanks.

"I told you to get up, but that doesn't mean I’m not going to kill you."

Yang Le drew his sword. Moving like a dragon, he lunged into the crowd. His blade showed no mercy; one strike claimed one life. His magnificent sword power was displayed to its fullest. Though the techniques were simple, they possessed the profound power of supreme minimalism. Ten breaths later, everyone present lay dead by his blade.

"I let you stand only because it is difficult to behead people while they are kneeling, not because I intended to spare you."

He swept a contemptuous gaze over the corpses, confirming no one was left alive, and sheathed his sword. The desperate refugees could be spared, as their sins did not warrant death—their ignorance in these chaotic times was expected. But these people? They were simply, utterly deserving of death. He killed them for no reason other than that he wanted to; his heart would not be at ease otherwise.

"Master, your sword..."

As Yang Le sheathed his blade, Li Qi'er finally regained her senses. She studied him with an intensely serious gaze, trying to find any trace of hidden cultivation level.

"Is there a flower on my face worth such a close look?" Yang Le asked while walking toward the corpse of the Taoist in grey.

"No, I just want to ask, are you some ancient monster hiding his cultivation?" Li Qi'er shook her head and spread her hands. "Rumors say some ancient monsters reincarnate to start over, hiding their cultivation just to keep a youthful appearance so they can roam the world, playing the pig to eat the tiger. You seem like a seventh-grade martial artist, but the sword intent you used to kill that Taoist is far beyond that."

"Stop reading those cheap novels," Yang Le replied simply, flicking Li Qi'er on the forehead. "Come over and help me find things."

"Hitting my head will stunt my growth!" Li Qi'er rubbed her head, pouting as she reluctantly followed him. "Master, you are truly strong. I am not teasing you—the power of that strike was already at the level of the middle three grades."

Li Qi'er wasn't boasting; she was being conservative. The Great Qian might not have specialized swordsmen, but she had seen sword energy and intent before. Compared to Yang Le’s strike, everything else was garbage. In the martial world of the Great Qian, besides Yang Le, such sword intent was non-existent.

"Laughable. Do you still have room to grow?" Yang Le ignored her praise. After retrieving the items from the Taoist’s body, he looked toward the direction of Cizhou. "Finish gathering these things. It's time to go."

"Master, you are quite rude," Li Qi'er said, for the first time wearing a sulky expression.

In her heart, she secretly decided that one day, when she destroyed the Imperial Astrological Bureau and could openly display her bloodline power, she would definitely ask her master if she had grown tall. Li Qi'er was one to hold a grudge.