Sweep away everything in its path

Like a storm crushing brittle branches, the sharp sound of a sword piercing the deck echoed through the air. The demonic aura clung to the blade, its green glow trembling slightly, emitting a chilling hum that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Who goes there?!" 

The young man in black robes shouted, his expression changing in an instant as he lifted his gaze toward the inky sky. Beside him, Yuan Laoda and the others stared upwards, equally bewildered.

Suddenly, a shadow hurtled down from the heavens, its descent swift and terrifying. With it came an overwhelming presence, an invisible weight that bore down upon everyone below, causing their breaths to hitch in their throats.

In the blink of an eye, the figure landed heavily on the deck, both feet steady and firm.

*Thud!* 

The entire *Heavenly Vessel* trembled under the impact, a testament to the sheer force and speed of his descent. 

When they looked more closely, they saw a man, his face as cold and unyielding as ancient ice, standing at the very center of the vessel. He stood before the demonic sword, his expression indifferent and aloof, while the ground beneath his feet cracked and buckled, the fractures spreading outward like a web.

Such a sight stole the breath from everyone aboard.

To fall from such a height, unscathed—this alone was remarkable. But more than that, the deck of the *Heavenly Vessel*, whose hardness rivaled that of a standard magical weapon, had been crushed underfoot, split open with deep, jagged lines.

"Are you also a cultivator of the demonic path?" the young man in black robes ventured, his earlier bravado wavering as he sensed the unparalleled dark aura radiating from the newcomer. "Might I ask your honorable name? I am Ye Feng, a disciple of the third generation of the Yin Luo Sect."

In the world of demonic cultivators, strength reigned supreme. Power was law, and he who wielded the greater fist commanded all. This was the unvarnished, ironclad rule.

Though Ye Feng himself had reached the *Condensation* stage of demonic cultivation, he could clearly feel the gulf between his power and that of this stranger.

"Shi Qianhan," the man replied, his cold gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd like a blade. With deliberate slowness, he extended his hand and grasped the hilt of the demonic sword.

Yuan Laoda, who had briefly entertained the hope that this man might be their savior, now felt a cold wave of despair wash over him. 

Another demonic cultivator. And by the look of him, even more ruthless and formidable than Ye Feng's group. The situation had just gone from bad to worse.

"May I ask, Daoist Shi, what brings you to this place so suddenly? We of the Yin Luo Sect merely sought a vessel large enough to accommodate us, and these rogue cultivators happened to possess one that met our needs."

Ye Feng spoke cautiously, eyeing Shi Qianhan's face for any hint of his intentions, even as his mind whirled with calculations.

"Leave," Shi Qianhan said, his voice like an icy dagger driven straight into the heart. 

One word, yet it carried such terrifying weight. 

A dead silence fell over the deck. The only sounds were the frightened breaths and rapid heartbeats of those aboard.

"What... what do you mean by this?" Ye Feng's expression twisted, recovering from the initial shock. As a fellow cultivator at the *Condensation* stage, he wouldn't let himself be cowed so easily. 

"This place is mine now," Shi Qianhan said, his tone casual, as though declaring a simple fact.

At this, Ye Feng didn't grow angry—instead, he laughed. 

"Hahaha… You must think you're some high-ranking demonic master or grand cultivator, believing that a single word from you is enough to make us leave. Do you take the Yin Luo Sect for fools? Since you refuse to see reason, don't blame us for being impolite."

"Brothers, attack!"

Ye Feng's voice rang out as he unsheathed a black, weighty blade. Dark energy flickered around its edge as he moved with the swiftness of a hunting panther, closing in on Shi Qianhan in the blink of an eye.

"Hah!"

With a thunderous shout, a wave of oppressive black energy descended on Shi Qianhan, covering him in an inescapable force akin to a mountain falling from the sky.

Yet Shi Qianhan's face remained as calm as ever. With a flick of his wrist, dark energy coiled around his sword, and he effortlessly parried the attack.

*Clang!* 

The clash of metal echoed as the shockwaves rippled outwards, stirring fierce winds and violent gales within a space of several meters. Only the two combatants could withstand the storm raging around them.

In that single exchange, Ye Feng's expression changed drastically. He could feel an overwhelming force, like the wrath of a demonic king, surging through his arm. His grip faltered, his palm splitting open from the pressure. 

How could this be? He wielded a blunt magical weapon, a rarity, and had struck first, thinking the advantage was his.

But reality was undeniable.

Though they were both at the *Condensation* stage, though their weapons were evenly matched, the gap between their power was immense.

This was the difference in cultivation techniques!

The *Nine Nether Demonic Arts*—a fearsome technique, its power unrivaled throughout the ages.

"Everyone, attack!" Ye Feng cried out, his face pale as he leaped back to create distance. His hands trembled as he hastily diverted some of his energy to expel the remnant demonic force that had invaded his body.

But Shi Qianhan didn't pursue him. His sword, now a swirling mass of black light, shot from his hand like a streaking shadow, cutting down one cultivator after another, each life extinguished in an instant. Even those who had reached his level couldn't withstand more than a few blows, let alone these weaker rogue cultivators.

Yuan Laoda and his companions could only watch in terror, hearts gripped by the cold reality before them. Shi Qianhan was a true demonic fiend, merciless in his killing.

"Retreat!" Ye Feng shouted, having barely recovered from the demonic energy inside him. He leapt onto his sword and fled without a second glance.

"Where do you think you're going?" 

Shi Qianhan's voice cut through the air as he leapt after him, a black serpent-like whip unfurling from his hand. It moved with silent precision, coiling around Ye Feng's ankle in mid-flight.

"Ahhh!"

With a cry of agony, Ye Feng plummeted to the ground, his limbs paralyzed as a toxic energy spread through his veins. Desperation filled his eyes. 

"Help… help me..." 

He barely managed to croak out the words.

"Run!" 

His remaining followers, witnessing their leader's capture, had no stomach for further fighting. One after another, they leaped overboard into the rushing waters of the Qingjiang River.

*Splash!* *Splash!*

Though the river's currents were treacherous, the odds seemed preferable to facing the deadly wrath of Shi Qianhan.

Watching their cowardice, Shi Qianhan's gaze flickered with faint contempt. He didn't bother chasing them. It would be impossible to kill them all.

"You... you..." Ye Feng glared at his fleeing subordinates, his face twisting with rage and betrayal. His fury, however, quickly turned to terror as he felt the lifeblood draining from his body. The strange whip binding him had released thin tendrils of black energy that were greedily consuming his essence.

"What… what kind of weapon is this?" Fear gripped him as he looked up at Shi Qianhan, who stood silently, his lips curled in a cold, mocking smile.

"Mercy… spare me…" Ye Feng stammered, his voice trembling with dread.

"I gave you a chance to leave," Shi Qianhan replied, his eyes gleaming with a deadly coldness. "You refused. Now, your only path is death."

With a swift motion, Shi Qianhan's sword flashed through the air, piercing Ye Feng's throat. 

Ye Feng's life ended before he could even scream.

For those below the *Nascent Soul* stage, death of the physical body meant the end. Only those who reached higher realms of cultivation could hope to separate their spiritual essence from their mortal form in time. But even then, a spirit's survival outside the body was a fleeting thing, easily extinguished.

With Ye Feng dead, Shi Qianhan calmly retrieved his weapons and looted the fallen man's storage pouch, along with another magical item that had dropped to the ground.

A heavy silence fell over the *Heavenly Vessel*. None dared move, least of all Yuan Laoda and his companions. They watched Shi Qianhan with a mixture of awe and fear.

At last, after collecting his spoils, Shi Qianhan's gaze fell upon Yuan Laoda.

"Th-thank you, my lord, for sparing us and saving the *Heavenly Vessel* from disaster," Yuan Laoda stammered, bowing deeply, hope flickering in his eyes.

It was clear from the earlier encounter that, though Shi Qianhan was ruthless, he wasn't entirely devoid of principles. 

"Do you think I would intervene without expecting something in return?" Shi Qianhan asked, an unfamiliar smile playing at

 the corner of his lips, though it carried no warmth.