Chapter 52: The Life-Taking Swordsman
As soon as Zhang Ruochen and the Ninth Princess arrived outside the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace, they heard deafening shouts coming from within.
Immediately after, a headless corpse was carried out of the combat palace by several people.
Zhang Ruochen glanced at the headless corpse and asked the steward of the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace, "Steward, what happened here?"
The steward, who looked to be around thirty years old and was quite thin, sighed and said, "Today, a life-taking swordsman came to the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace. Every martial artist who fought him had their head severed with a single sword strike, without exception. This is already the eighth one!"
The Ninth Princess's expression changed slightly. "With just one sword strike?"
The steward nodded. "Too formidable! I've worked at the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace for ten years, and I've never seen a youth who could cultivate his sword technique to such a ruthless, merciless, and icy level. One strike, as fast as lightning. It's absolutely terrifying! Can you guess how old he is?"
The Ninth Princess said, "To be able to kill a Yellow Extreme Realm Great Perfection martial artist with a single sword strike, he must be at least eighteen or nineteen years old!"
The steward shook his head. "His name is A Le, and he's fifteen years old."
The Ninth Princess was momentarily stunned.
"A fifteen-year-old life-taking swordsman—how interesting. Let's go take a look." Zhang Ruochen, with his hands behind his back, walked into the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace.
At that moment, on the battle stage, stood a sallow and thin youth.
He looked about fourteen or fifteen years old, wore tattered clothes, and held a rust-covered iron sword in his hand. The iron sword was stained red, dripping drops of blood.
He stood as straight as a sculpture, yet exuded a chilling killing intent.
Having killed eight martial artists in a row, his aura had peaked.
Under the impact of that powerful killing intent, no one dared to step onto the battle stage.
Zhang Ruochen looked at the youth standing in the center of the battle stage. As a young swordsman himself, he could clearly feel the sword intent and killing aura emanating from the boy named A Le.
Zhang Ruochen nodded slightly. "Gifted by nature, sword qi follows the heart. His realm of sword intent has reached the intermediate level of following the heart, and it also contains killing intent."
The Ninth Princess was also observing the youth holding the bloodstained sword. "He doesn't seem to be a pure human. He's a half-human of the Demon Wolf Half-Human Clan."
Zhang Ruochen said, "That's right! He is indeed a Demon Wolf Half-Human. Look at his eyes—they're just like a wolf's eyes, a faint blood-red color."
Just then, a cold, sneering voice came from a distance: "Cousin, it's been three years. I've really missed you!"
Zhang Ruochen looked toward the direction of the voice and saw a pale-faced, handsome man standing on the viewing platform, smiling at him.
And there was also a familiar face—Lin Ningshan.
Lin Ningshan wore a white chiffon dress, with a sachet and jade pendants hanging from her waist. She seemed to have grown a bit taller, with a graceful figure, skin as white as snow, and long black hair that reached her waist.
There was no denying that Lin Ningshan was extremely beautiful. Her brows were like paintings, her eyes like stars, her lips as crystal-clear as gems, her neck slender, her chest slightly raised, her waist delicate, and her legs straight. She gave off a flawless feeling, like a stunning beauty stepping out of a painting.
"Cousin, don't you recognize me anymore?" Lin Chenyu stared at Zhang Ruochen, his smile very soft and carrying a hint of malice.
Seeing Lin Ningshan, Zhang Ruochen roughly guessed Lin Chenyu's identity.
Since the other party had taken the initiative to call him, Zhang Ruochen was not one to be rude, so he walked over. "It has indeed been a long time. I didn't expect to run into you here at the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Field."
The Ninth Princess whispered in Zhang Ruochen's ear, "Ninth Brother, don't get too close to Lin Chenyu. This man has bad conduct, a crooked mind, and is cunning and treacherous—not worth befriending!"
The Ninth Princess's voice was very low, but Lin Chenyu still heard it.
Lin Chenyu's ears twitched slightly, and his eyes turned cold. He let out a snort. "Ninth Princess, speaking ill of me to my face—is that appropriate? Is this the upbringing of a royal princess?"
As Lin Chenyu snorted, the Ninth Princess's face changed drastically. She let out a muffled groan and took three steps back.
When she stopped, a trace of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth—she had suffered internal injuries.
Zhang Ruochen thought to himself, "Such formidable cultivation—at least at the Mysterious Extreme Realm late stage, or even stronger."
The Mysterious Extreme Realm is also divided into seven minor stages: Initial Stage, Middle Stage, Late Stage, Small Extreme Position, Middle Extreme Position, Large Extreme Position, and Great Perfection.
Anyone who steps into the Mysterious Extreme Realm is considered to have entered the ranks of martial arts powerhouses. In the military, they would at least be a general-level figure.
Of course, at the Mysterious Extreme Realm, each minor stage improvement becomes more difficult.
Lin Chenyu, as the number one genius of the Lin Clan, was only twenty years old and had already reached such an unfathomable realm.
At that moment, the ninth challenger finally stepped onto the battle stage to challenge the fifteen-year-old life-taking swordsman.
It was worth noting that the previous eight had all been killed with a single sword strike by the life-taking swordsman. Anyone who dared to step onto the battle stage to challenge him was undoubtedly a person of extraordinary courage.
"Life-taking swordsman? I, Han Fu, will test you!" Han Fu, wielding a battle axe, stood opposite the life-taking swordsman.
Below the stage, all the martial artists looked toward the battle stage.
This was the ninth match, and the challenger was Han Fu, who possessed the combat power of a Yellow List martial artist.
Zhang Ruochen had also fought Han Fu and knew his strengths and weaknesses.
The Ninth Princess wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, slightly distancing herself from Lin Chenyu, and also looked up at the battle stage. "I wonder how many sword strikes Han Fu can withstand?"
Zhang Ruochen said, "If Han Fu can withstand his first sword strike, he can save his life. If he can't, he'll end up dead."
"Kill Han Fu with one sword strike? That's impossible!" the Ninth Princess said.
Zhang Ruochen said no more and just stared at the battle stage.
"Pfft!"
In just an instant, Han Fu's head flew off the battle stage, landing on the ground like a ball.
Ninth match, victory!
After a brief silence, the entire combat palace erupted again with deafening shouts and exclamations.
"He... he really used only one sword strike! I didn't even see how he drew his sword—I only saw a flash of sword shadow!"
"What grade of sword technique is he using?"
"Too fast! I can't even see him draw his sword."
"Even the exceptionally talented Ninth Prince, when he fought Han Fu last month, needed over eighty moves to defeat him."
"Is another even more talented young martial artist about to rise?"
The Ninth Princess was also stunned. "Ninth Brother, can you withstand one of his sword strikes?"
Zhang Ruochen smiled. "His sword is indeed very fast, but it also has fatal flaws. Others can't see them, but I can. Of course, in the martial world, nothing is indestructible except speed. With his sword speed, even if there are flaws, he can compensate with speed. If it were a month ago, it would be hard to say. But as for now..."
Zhang Ruochen didn't finish his sentence and continued to look at the battle stage.
Finally, the fifteen-year-old life-taking swordsman faced his tenth match.
His opponent was an old man named Su Heng, ranked seventeenth on the Yellow List.
Unfortunately, it was still just one sword strike. Su Heng died under his sword, becoming a headless corpse lying in a pool of blood.
Too invincible!
Ten consecutive victories, each with only one sword strike.
Even against a Yellow List martial artist, it was no exception.
Such a young swordsman was even more heaven-defying than the Ninth Prince's performance a month ago.
Soon, the person in charge of the Yellow-Level Martial Combat Palace evaluated his performance on the battle stage.
Yellow List, sixth place!
This was only because no one had forced him to reveal his true strength, so he was ranked sixth. If he had shown his full power, his ranking might have been even higher.
The life-taking swordsman, A Le, remained cold and expressionless, carrying his blood-dripping iron sword as he walked down from the battle stage.
Neither joy nor sorrow.
Only when his gaze fell on Lin Ningshan did he show a hint of softness, feeling his heart beat a little faster. He immediately looked away and said, "Miss Lin, I have fulfilled my promise to you. Ten consecutive wins, not a single loss."
Lin Ningshan showed a sweet smile and gently patted A Le on the shoulder. "A Le, with such extraordinary talent, many major powers will surely want to recruit you. Why must you stay in the Lin Clan as a servant?"
A Le bit his lip lightly, staring at Lin Ningshan's stunning face. "A Le only wishes to forever guard by Miss Lin's side. I ask for nothing else."
In his eyes, the woman before him was so perfect, so holy. Just being able to guard her was a happiness.
Lin Ningshan smiled and nodded, but deep in her eyes, a trace of contempt flickered and vanished.
Lin Ningshan's gaze then fell on Zhang Ruochen, carrying a hint of pride. She smiled and said, "Cousin, you also practice the sword. If you were to fight A Le, how many of his sword strikes could you withstand?"
Zhang Ruochen looked at A Le, thoughtful for a moment, and said indifferently, "If someone is willing to guard you, then cherish it well."
With that, Zhang Ruochen didn't even glance at Lin Ningshan again and walked directly toward the battle stage.
Seeing Zhang Ruochen step onto the battle stage, Lin Ningshan's beautiful eyes narrowed. "Hasn't he already become a Yellow List martial artist? Why is he stepping onto the battle stage again? Could it be..."
"Oh! How interesting!" Lin Chenyu smiled slightly, a glint of killing intent flashing in his eyes.
Perhaps killing Zhang Ruochen on the battle stage would be a very amusing thing.
Lin Chenyu waved at A Le. "A Le, come here."
"Young Master, what are your orders?" A Le said.
Lin Chenyu smiled. "Watch carefully. That youth on the battle stage is one of Ningshan's suitors. Later, you might need to step in and kill him. Do you have the confidence?"
"In my eyes, there are only two kinds of people: the living and the dead. Either he dies, or I die."
A Le's gaze fixed on the battle stage, his eyes becoming extremely sharp, his entire being seeming to transform into a sword.