Chapter Thirty-Three: The Bloody Battle with the Grandmaster

The appearance of Master Xuanming instantly became the center of attention. A grandmaster, truly standing atop the pinnacle of martial arts—who could ever hope to meet such a figure in ordinary times? Yet today, here he was before their very eyes, sadly, as a dreaded demon lord.

He had even boasted of his intent to bathe the True Martial Sect in blood.

Who wouldn’t be afraid!

Even Lu Yuan wore a grave expression, his face darkened. Jiang Ming simply stood quietly, feeling the shifting aura of his opponent, analyzing the mysterious essence of the so-called True Meaning of Ice.

With his formidable spirit and hundredfold insight, he vaguely began to comprehend.

“Is it the rhythm of heaven and earth? No, it’s more than that,” Jiang Ming silently pondered.

To conjure such cold, it had already surpassed the realm of ordinary techniques, defied the bounds of reason.

“One must exchange blows, experience it firsthand, to truly discern the essence of this realm,” Jiang Ming thought, eager yet unhurried.

Now that this man had revealed himself, he would not easily withdraw.

As for the appearance of Situ Ming and Chong Erlang, Jiang Ming was not surprised—he had sensed their presence long before. Once they announced themselves, his mind cleared.

Back at Black Wind Fortress, Jiang Ming had slain the elder Tan Feng of the Demon Sect and the deputy master Quan Wuer of the Divine Fist Sect, and received word: using the Lesser Yang Sutra as bait, they had besieged Chong Erlang.

Clearly, the Xiao family was either allied with the Sun and Moon Demon Sect or colluding with Quan Wuer.

Quan Wuer, Tan Feng, Situ Ming—even without counting the Xiao family, they had an eighty to ninety percent chance of killing Chong Erlang.

“Am I his savior, then?” Jiang Ming glanced at Chong Erlang, thinking peculiarly.

He was ever more certain that the Demon Sect had more agents here than just Situ Ming.

“There is still a terrifying presence, one even Master Xuanming has failed to sense—how interesting,” Jiang Ming felt no fear.

This battle promised vast rewards. Though he wished to settle and reflect, the chance to encounter a grandmaster stirred his hunting spirit.

The realm, the realm—only by truly experiencing it, with a suitable catalyst, could he hope to grasp it in a short time.

Chong Erlang, however, sighed helplessly, “Am I to be forced into this fight?”

“Meeting is fate—fate arises and fades, births and deaths, all are fate,” Situ Ming stepped forward. “I was merely passing by, but since we’ve met, let us witness life and death. In any case, our two sects have countless grudges. Should you die here, one day, I will personally visit Divine Fist Sect to offer prayers for your disciples, sending them to the underworld to accompany you.”

“Old devil, you really think you have me cornered?” Chong Erlang sneered coldly, straightening his body and shaking his cloak aside, striding toward him. “You demon sect folk, whether young or old, all deserve to die.”

“Fist of Death—perish!”

Leaping into the air, Chong Erlang unleashed his fist with a stormy roar, as if piercing the void to strike directly at his opponent’s skull.

It was pure, overwhelming force, far stronger than Quan Wuer had been.

Situ Ming let out a cold laugh, palms swirling, actively engaging.

The two plunged into a fierce battle.

On the other side—

“So you truly refuse to give it to me?” Master Xuanming’s gaze glinted dangerously.

“I want to see whether a grandmaster’s skills can truly kill me!” Jiang Ming tossed the scroll, the Lesser Yin Sutra, toward Lu Yuan. “Brother Lu, keep it safe for me!”

There, aside from Lu Yuan, stood Chang Qing and others of the Heavenly Martial Army, along with several women clad in black.

All those in black were of the innate realm, with one even a master whose strength rivaled Lu Yuan’s.

Together, they could hold off Master Xuanming for a time.

“Brother Jiang, you’re causing me trouble!” Lu Yuan lamented. “This thing is a burning potato—one careless move and I might lose my head.”

“If you do lose it, I’ll avenge you!” Jiang Ming replied, unleashing his vast aura without restraint.

Stronger than ever before.

Facing a grandmaster, he had to fight with all he had.

Otherwise, if killed, there would be no chance for regret.

He drew his long sword again—black blade, he did not use.

“A newborn calf fears no tiger—such courage!” Master Xuanming wasted no words, raising his hand with a surging palm strike, icy power flooding forth. He shouted, “Let me show you the might of a grandmaster—Divine Ice Palm, perish!”

Even with protective energy, Jiang Ming felt the chilling cold.

“The quality of his true energy is superior, carrying the power of cold, like the force of heaven and earth,” Jiang Ming’s eyes gleamed, perceiving the changes in the palm strike while analyzing the essence of the true energy.

He twisted his wrist, sending forth myriad sword shadows. Streams of sword energy burst out, like fine spring rain falling—dense, endless.

It was the “Fine Rain Sword Technique”.

Softness to the extreme, focused on defense.

Yet this sword art could not stop the palm force; Jiang Ming retreated, pushing his sword technique to its utmost, using the dense sword energy to dissolve the attack.

“Interesting,” Master Xuanming pressed forward, shattering thousands of sword energies with a single palm. From above, he gathered intense cold, intent on freezing all things.

The surrounding void froze, frost spread everywhere; this region seemed plunged into the depths of winter.

The oppressive force made Jiang Ming shudder; he felt pressure from the very heavens and earth.

It was a suppression of realms.

“Eighteen Swords of Sudden Rain!” Jiang Ming shifted his sword stance, his speed suddenly several times faster.

It was an advanced form of the Thirty-six Swords of Fine Rain.

It prized speed and urgency.

The void hummed, the swords sang incessantly, forcibly tearing the palm force apart, breaking the strike. He felt cold penetrate his body; even with his powerful physique and robust energy, he shivered.

He rotated his true energy, his blood quaked, dispelling it instantly.

“A grandmaster’s realm, truly formidable!” Jiang Ming was astonished.

He had thought that even the strongest grandmaster here would still belong to the threefold realm of martial arts.

But he was wrong.

“The grandmasters here draw strength from the power of the realm, the rhythm of heaven and earth imbues their energy with attributes. Every move carries the might of heaven, making them so powerful!” Jiang Ming analyzed as his sword spun, the myriad sword shadows causing Master Xuanming some trouble.

“Nine Swords of Storming Rain!”

He changed his sword stance again—each strike like fierce wind and thunder, wild and violent, forcing Master Xuanming back a step.

“This entire sword technique, advancing layer by layer—how marvelous!” Master Xuanming could see clearly; whether it was the Thirty-six Swords of Fine Rain, the Eighteen Swords of Sudden Rain, or the Nine Swords of Storming Rain, it was an advanced sword art, exceptionally powerful.

“But that is all!” Master Xuanming said. “Without the power of the realm, even the strongest sword art is limited. Xuanming Divine Finger—pierce the vast sea!”

His figure vanished, passing through the dense sword net, pointing straight at Jiang Ming’s brow.

Sharp cold light, power to pierce all, made Jiang Ming’s brow ache, leaving him barely able to react.

A golden light flashed—nine layers formed—Golden Light Barrier shielded him, but Master Xuanming’s finger broke through all nine layers.

Like paper, but it held for a moment.

“Three Swords of Wild Rain!”

Jiang Ming remained perfectly calm, changing his sword stance yet again—like the heavenly river pouring down with wind and thunder. Three swords struck like rain on banana leaves, forcing Master Xuanming to retreat.

“One Sword of Dripping Rain!”

Finally, the three merged into the forbidden killing move of the whole technique—like a meteor crossing the sky, lightning condensed, returning to simplicity. A single point of cold light focused on the sword’s tip, instantly making Master Xuanming’s hair stand on end as he rapidly withdrew.