Chapter Forty-Two: A Thousand Hands United as One

The long sword fell, and Jiang Ming closed his eyes, contemplating the transformation within this strike. Using himself as a conduit, the void as a vessel, he merged the intent of slaughter into an unstoppable storm of sword energy. It tore through the firmament, slicing all things asunder.

The remaining three grandmasters barely resisted before they were shredded by the sword energy, dying miserably on the spot.

When the sword energy finally dissipated, Jiang Ming’s face paled. He leaned on his sword, gasping for breath, his aura suddenly weakening as if he had exhausted himself beyond his limits.

To the west, Bai Yunfei of the True Martial Sect, Tang Xiaotian of the Pure Yang Sect, He Qianshan of Divine Sword Manor, and others had rushed over upon hearing of the demon purge. Gathering together, they arrived just in time to witness this unparalleled battle.

“Zhao Zhengyi, that bastard—I always knew he was no good. A paragon of virtue by day, but a scoundrel in the shadows. Damn, he really played his part to perfection.”

“Yes, he really did. That scoundrel casually picked someone and accused Brother Jiang of slaughtering villages and exterminating families. What a vicious move, truly ruthless.”

“With anyone else, he might have succeeded, but Brother Jiang? An ordinary man could never have slipped past his senses! Wait—Brother Jiang claimed to own no property, yet he possessed a vast estate and more. I always felt something was off, but never thought in this direction. Now that it’s exposed, thinking back, it’s chilling. Just how many atrocities has this so-called hero Zhao committed in secret? All those crimes he accused Brother Jiang of—slaughtering villages, pillaging women—were they his own?”

“Very likely! A villain masquerading as a righteous hero—how ironic!”

“There’s not a decent person among this lot. Look, not a single major sect has sent anyone.”

“What else would you expect from Brother Jiang? Surrounded on all sides, he shows no fear, and kills with a steady hand—one strike, one life, swift and resolute.”

“They even hid three grandmasters among them. Isn’t that the eminent monk Guangming from Great Forest Temple? The temple is so powerful, yet they dare strike at a grandmaster—what could they be thinking?”

“Perhaps seeking revenge for Wisdom Sword—he was Great Forest Temple’s most gifted disciple. Or maybe Jiang holds too many supreme techniques, and they’re hoping to share in the spoils.”

“Confident they can kill him? Then what about the other two?”

“One wields a blade like the warriors from the north—must be a strongman from Northern Barbarians. The other, something about him reminds me of the Sun and Moon Demon Cult.”

“If that’s true, then Brother Jiang is in real trouble. Serious trouble.”

“Trouble or not, I only know one thing: Brother Jiang is terrifying. In the heat of battle, he actually comprehended the Sword Intent of Slaughter. Is he even human?”

“Could he be an immortal reborn?”

“Good heavens, that sword was monstrous! Sword energy poured like clouds, cutting down hundreds of foes in a single stroke. That hypocrite Zhao Zhengyi fell too—how satisfying! Truly exhilarating!”

“What kind of power unleashes such devastating sword energy? Is a grandmaster really capable of this? I can’t believe it!”

“Nor can I. It’s too terrifying. If this is within the reach of men, even my master might not compare.” Bai Yunfei’s expression turned grave and awed. “It’s the same sword as before, but even more fearsome—a single blow killed three grandmasters, one of whom was a Great Forest Temple monk renowned for his Invincible Vajra Skill. Unbelievable. Jiang has overexerted himself—he’s in for real trouble. I can’t believe these people, knowing he slew several grandmasters and even a great grandmaster months ago, would dare come without hidden schemes.”

“I can’t believe Brother Jiang is truly weakened,” Tang Xiaotian said, frowning. “Remember last time? He looked utterly exhausted too, but then lured out his enemies and killed them with overwhelming force. Do you think he’s faking it again?”

“But—but the sword intent he just unleashed was monstrous. Wouldn’t his inner energy be completely depleted?” Bai Yunfei shook his head. “That sword was a secret technique, combined with the Slaughter Sword Intent—an enormous drain. If he’s pretending, then…how vast must his dantian be?”

At that moment, their pupils contracted with shock. They saw three figures appear in the heart of the battlefield, instantly surrounding Jiang Ming and attacking without hesitation.

“All of them are grandmasters!” Bai Yunfei shuddered.

The others blanched as well.

On the battlefield, Jiang Ming, who had been leaning on his sword, suddenly straightened. Facing the three grandmasters who had launched their surprise attack, his body shook. His inner energy surged outward, forming a yin-yang Taiji diagram to shield himself.

But the combined might of the three shattered his defense.

“Impressive!” With a casual sword strike, Jiang Ming forced the trio to retreat. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make a move, so I feigned weakness. I didn’t expect you’d actually take the bait.”

“Die!” One of them, a burly middle-aged man wielding a mountain-splitting axe, uttered a single word, then leapt high, bringing down a blinding arc of axe-light as if cleaving the heavens, sundering earth and sky.

Such overwhelming power contained a unique and terrifying energy.

“Amitabha. Thousand Hands Become One—Buddha’s Radiance Illuminates All!” The second attacker, an old monk, strode through the air wreathed in golden light, appearing every inch a demon-vanquishing Vajra. With a single palm, he conjured a thousand imprints that lit up half the sky, then fused into one, condensing all power into a single strike.

“Soul-Extinguishing Finger!” The last man’s shape flickered, leaving afterimages behind. He thrust a finger toward the back of Jiang Ming’s head, carrying an aura of utter annihilation—one finger to snuff out the soul.

It was as swift and lethal as lightning, too fast to follow.

“Ten Thousand Swords Return to One!” Jiang Ming’s brows twitched. Sword energy coalesced, killing intent soared, and a tide of slaughter surged into the heavens, forcing all three back.

The impact unleashed a terrifying storm, rending the earth with deep fissures. Even Bai Yunfei and the observers in the distance retreated in fear, not daring to draw near.

For a hundred meters in all directions, the ground was left in chaos, dust billowing high.

Yet in a blink, the combatants suppressed the turmoil.

This time, the three did not attack immediately.

“Given your performance in the last battle, you couldn’t possibly be this weak. You merely feigned exhaustion to lure us in—how arrogant!” rumbled the burly monk. “Still, I never expected you to be so powerful. Even with the three of us combined, we can’t subdue you. Not even Master Zhang could do this face to face. Incredible.”

He truly was incredulous.

Just now, all three had unleashed their deadliest techniques. Except for Master Zhang, they could have at least gravely wounded any other grandmaster.

But this man had withstood them.

The other two wore equally grim expressions.

“It’s only inconceivable to you because you’re too weak,” Jiang Ming replied, his gaze razor-sharp. “You are the eminent monk Puhui of Great Forest Temple. You achieved mastery in the Invincible Vajra Body and comprehended the true meaning of Vajra, earning you the title of Vajra Saint Monk—is that correct?”

All this had been told to him by the Ninth Princess.

She had given him a rundown of the world’s great masters.

“Correct.” The Vajra Saint Monk nodded. “I’m surprised you even know me. Yet we could find no details about your past—only that you emerged from Blackwind Fortress. As for your history, it’s as if you sprang from a stone. Jiang Ming, can you tell us your origin?”

“So you know Blackwind Fortress?” Jiang Ming’s brows twitched. “Were your people the ones who slaughtered them?”

At that moment, his focus sharpened to its utmost.

He mirrored the scene around him in his mind, observing their every move—even their breathing and heartbeats, and even sensing the flow of inner energy within their bodies.

“Blackwind Fortress was massacred?” The Vajra Saint Monk frowned. “We are not so base. We came to kill you solely to avenge Wisdom Sword.”

Avenge a disciple?

Not even ghosts would believe that!