Slaughter

Slaughter...

The sword Qi tornado, born of fourth-ranked mastery, emanated an aura of absolute devastation. Such an aura was the hallmark of fourth-ranked Inscriptions.

In a remarkable twist, Qin Wentian wasn't just a third-ranked Divine Inscriptionist; he was a formidable fourth-ranked master. This revelation set hearts racing uncontrollably.

To achieve fourth-ranked Grandmaster status before the age of twenty was nothing short of astonishing. The implications of this revelation left the crowd in stunned awe.

No wonder he had been so brazen, why he had so confidently humiliated them earlier, labeling them as trash. How many years had they lived? And yet, they were mere fourth-ranked Grandmasters, incomparable to the likes of Qin Wentian.

If Qin Wentian had embarked on his Divine Inscription journey at ten, he had risen to the fourth rank in less than a decade. In contrast, each of them had spent around four to five decades to reach the same level. The chasm in their talents was staggering.

But their shock gave way to fervor, an almost maddening greed. The reason was clear – that ancient scroll. The intricacies of Qin Wentian's formation bore witness to his attainment, undoubtedly granted by the inheritance of a fifth-ranked Grandmaster.

Their desire for the Ascendant's inheritance was so all-encompassing that they momentarily disregarded the peril they were currently in. They were willing to stake their lives for that elusive scroll.

Kill Qin Wentian and seize the inheritance – their conviction was unwavering.

Watching from the sidelines, the elder with large eyes felt his heart race as the scene unfolded. He shifted his gaze to Bailu Yi. "Did you anticipate this? Is that why you promised a spectacle?"

Bailu Yi chuckled. "Hehe, Grandpa Elder, what do you think? Qin Wentian is just nineteen."

"Nineteen," the elder muttered, attempting to regain his composure. Ignoring Qin Wentian's cultivation potential for a moment, his mastery in the Dao of Divine Inscriptions was a harbinger of future greatness. The young man had the potential to become a fifth-ranked Grandmaster, a figure who could command celestial forces in Grand Xia. Even Heavenly Dipper Sovereigns would rally to his side at his slightest beckoning.

Qin Wentian's proficiency was not yet fully tapped; his potential was far from exhausted.

Bailu Tong, however, held a different perspective. He acknowledged Qin Wentian's talent and potential, yet he was convinced that the catalyst for his meteoric progress was the ancient scroll of the Ascendant.

"Perhaps we should all step back for a moment?" urged the elder with large eyes. He desperately hoped to prevent the situation from escalating further. He wished to avert the calamity of impending casualties should the confrontation between Qin Wentian and the other fourth-ranked Grandmasters intensify. He cared little for whose blood would stain the battlefield – whether Qin Wentian's or the other fourth-ranked Inscriptionists' – he wanted to avoid the aftermath altogether.

In the midst of the air, Qin Wentian stood, enveloped by the transformation of the surrounding space into a vortex of sword Qi.

This combat-oriented Divine Inscription, derived from the Ascendant's ancient scroll, was known as the 'Tempest of Sword Qi.' It could fragment into multiple miniature windstorms, making it a highly potent fourth-ranked combat Inscription. Even at his present level, Qin Wentian had to expend considerable effort to inscribe it successfully.

And now, he was its master.

Within the maelstrom churned by the tornado's gusts, the three fourth-ranked Grandmasters displayed utmost caution. Yet, their stares at Qin Wentian remained feverishly greedy.

"Dear Elder, as much as you wish to halt us, that's simply not feasible," retorted the black-faced middle-aged man coldly. He and Old Liang then positioned themselves beside Eccentric Song.

"Eccentric Song, while this lad can construct fourth-ranked formations, you possess a fourth-ranked Puppet. The two of us will serve as your guards, while you unleash your Puppet to end him. With his demise, the Divine Inscription will naturally dissipate, nullifying his assault. The ancient scroll shall be shared among us three. How does that sound?"

"Agreed," Eccentric Song acquiesced with a nod. Flanked by two peak-tier, third-ranked Puppets on either side and his fourth-ranked Puppet leading the way, they emanated a chilling aura of death as they advanced on Qin Wentian.

"Elder, you've heard their terms. From start to finish, I've remained in the defensive. Yet, they're the ones eager for my life," Qin Wentian remarked, casting a glance at the elder with large eyes. His words caused the elder's gaze to stiffen. He realized that dissuading these fourth-ranked Grandmasters from killing Qin Wentian was a futile endeavor.

Setting the matter of the ancient scroll aside, leaving Qin Wentian alive posed an insurmountable threat to them.

After today, the White Deer Institute would undoubtedly attract the attention of numerous great powers, all vying to recruit Qin Wentian.

A nineteen-year-old fourth-ranked Grandmaster was a jewel sought by transcendent forces. They would eagerly welcome him into their fold, granting him unrestricted access to study the Dao of Divine Inscriptions, provided he joined their ranks.

From any perspective, Qin Wentian's fate was sealed.

"Great Elder, further persuasion is futile at this juncture," Bailu Tong declared, his voice tinged with anticipation, yearning for the battle to unfold.

"Eccentric Song, order your Puppet to obliterate that brat. Old Liang, use your Divine Weapon to fend off any attacks," commanded the black-faced, middle-aged man. He could discern that Old Liang's umbrella-type Divine Weapon had a defensive orientation.

"Very well, this brat has overstepped his bounds for far too long. Let's put an end to him," Eccentric Song declared with an air of confidence. His fourth-ranked Puppet ascended, its blade-covered form effortlessly cleaving through space. The formidable gusts expelled by the tornado were sliced into fragments.

Beneath the Puppet, the black-faced, middle-aged man nimbly manipulated his lance, pulverizing the ground as he moved. His actions not only disarmed the vicinity of traps but also generated a vacuum that swept away potential threats. Meanwhile, Old Liang elevated himself above the trio, encompassing them within a glistening, golden protective barrier projected by his umbrella.

Within the secure sphere of fourth-ranked radiance, they treaded with caution. Relying on the umbrella's shielding, they steeled themselves against the tempestuous gales while strategizing to harness the might of the fourth-ranked Puppet to vanquish Qin Wentian. Their strategy was undeniably sound.

"Perish!" Qin Wentian flicked his finger, and instantaneously, the ferocious sword tornado surged forth, accelerating towards the umbrella-like Divine Weapon. The collision produced a shockwave that shook the golden sphere of light violently. Simultaneously, the fourth-ranked Puppet lunged with its palm, a frigid gleam tracing its path toward Qin Wentian.

"Tch." Qin Wentian's lips curved into a disdainful smirk. "I'll gladly accept this gift of a fourth-ranked Puppet."

With those words, a Puppet clad in golden armor emerged before him.

"Attack." Qin Wentian's voice rang with cold command as his golden-armored Puppet soared toward the bladed Puppet. His expression remained as imperturbable as ever, while his intense gaze locked onto the three fourth-ranked Grandmasters.

"A Puppet? He wields a fourth-ranked Puppet as well!"

Eccentric Song and his cohorts were left momentarily dumbfounded. The clashing of the fourth-ranked bladed Puppet and the golden-armored giant Puppet escalated. Yet, Qin Wentian remained entirely unaffected.

With a sweeping motion of his hands, myriad sword rays converged, morphing into a colossal blade that radiated an unmatched sharpness. Swiftly thereafter, the immense sword descended from the heavens, crashing headlong into the golden barrier enveloping the trio.

"What now, what now?" Eccentric Song's composure wavered. This nineteen-year-old youth had far surpassed his estimations.

"Frustrating situation," Old Liang muttered, his visage turning pallid. He turned to the black-faced, middle-aged man and urgently suggested, "Given his relentless assaults, my golden shield will inevitably buckle. You possess an offensive Divine Weapon, clear a path for us."

"Me?" The black-faced, middle-aged man tensed up. Although his fourth-ranked, attack-centric Divine Weapon could potentially breach the defenses, his personal cultivation had yet to reach the Heavenly Dipper Realm. At the Yuanfu level, the augmentation provided by the fourth-ranked Divine Weapon would only yield limited power.

Initially, they believed their advantage was secure despite Qin Wentian's fourth-ranked formation prowess. Their formidable assets—a fourth-ranked Puppet, an attack-focused Divine Weapon, and a defensive-type Divine Weapon—seemed ample for victory. But to their astonishment, Qin Wentian unveiled a fourth-ranked Puppet that swiftly turned the tables.

"BOOM!" Once more, the golden shield shuddered, its exterior fissuring.

"At this rate, we're as good as dead." Old Liang paled, aware that in the face of the ferocious tempest, not even a single intact corpse would remain.

"Grandmaster Penga, AID US!" Eccentric Song implored the other fourth-ranked Grandmaster, who, like Penga, was also a Heavenly Dipper Sovereign. Fearing and respecting this man, their original scheme entailed teaming up to handle Penga after Qin Wentian's demise.

Now, they had no choice but to beg for his assistance.

However, Penga remained disinterested. A fiery inscription-adorned spear materialized in his grip, but he remained statuesque, his gaze locked onto the Divine Inscription with a fervent intensity.

In the very moment, the fourth-ranked 'Tempest of the Sword Qi' erupted completely. This critical juncture offered a glimpse into the intricate runic structure of a Divine Inscription.

Fractures snaked across the umbrella-like Divine Weapon, and with a splintering resonance, the golden shield disintegrated. Eccentric Song, Old Liang, and the black-faced, middle-aged man donned expressions of dread, each directed toward the young man hovering in the air.

In that tense moment, as Qin Wentian's frigid glare swept over them, the trio sensed a palpable surge of his murderous intent.

"Retreat," Eccentric Song ordered his Puppet. Yet, Qin Wentian had already foreseen his move. His golden-armored Puppet forcibly restrained Eccentric Song's own.

With a swift blur, the black-faced, middle-aged man dashed forth, wielding his shadow lance to carve an escape. The black dragon materialized, roaring as it carved a pathway through the air. However, a vehement chorus of sword cries erupted, a resounding boom echoing as he collided with an immense sword impaling the ground. Raising his gaze, the man was met with a sea of sword radiance converging upon him. If Qin Wentian wished it, his grave would be instantly dug right there.

"Dear Qin, kindly spare his life," the large-eyed elder implored, now thoroughly courteous. A nineteen-year-old fourth-ranked Grandmaster deserved respect.

"These three boast fame. This fellow is a guest elder from the powerful Han Clan in the Moon Continent," the large-eyed elder gently reminded Qin Wentian.

"Indeed, should you end me, the Han Clan won't let you be," the black-faced man sneered, locking eyes with Qin Wentian.

"Once bold, now craven. If the Han Clan thirsts for revenge, I'll simply affiliate with a transcendent power. Will the Han Clan then dare to meddle?" Qin Wentian's chilling words sent shivers through the black-faced man. A nineteen-year-old fourth-ranked Grandmaster was a gem worthy of any faction's covetousness. The Han Clan's threat would prove toothless.

"Such abundant treasures squandered on simpletons. Why not bequeath them to me?" Qin Wentian's words resonated before an assertive sword Qi surged. The colossal sword lunged, its descent obstructed by the black-faced man's shadow lance. Nevertheless, the force shattered his legs. In a flash, a sword beam sliced his throat, leaving a bloody slash in its wake.

Eccentric Song and Old Liang watched, truly shaken by Qin Wentian's swiftness. Overwhelming terror surged within them.

Without a warning, the black-faced man, a guest elder of the mighty Han Clan, lay dead. In mere moments, a fourth-ranked Grandmaster fell, just like that!