You said it was a useless body, yet you punched a saint to pieces?

Chapter 35 You're not good enough

The Hidden Dragon Pavilion, shrouded in the deep of night, was torn apart by a suppressed rage.

"Bang!"

With a loud crash, wood chips flew everywhere, and the carved wooden door shattered, revealing a wide-open doorway.

Dressed in a dark blue sword robe, Wang Ming strode into the Hidden Dragon Pavilion like a demon god emerging from hell, stepping over the scattered wood chips.

His sword-like eyebrows stood on end, his eyes were like abysses, and two cold flames burned within them. His handsome face was now twisted and ferocious.

Originally, under Wang Qingyue's intimidation, he did not intend to cause trouble for Wang Dao for the time being. However, Ji Mingyue's words, "Seventh Young Master has invited me to the auction," were like adding fuel to the fire, completely igniting the flames of anger in his heart.

He no longer cared about Wang Qingyue's warning or the hypocritical mask of brotherly affection; he felt that if the anger in his chest was not released, it would burn him to ashes.

At worst, he'd just have another go with Wang Qingyue. He simply couldn't stand Wang Dao for even a moment longer; he had to give him a good beating.

The servants inside the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, who were busy with their own tasks under the cover of night, were terrified by the sudden loud noise and the overwhelming rage emanating from Wang Ming.

They huddled nervously in the corner, barely daring to breathe, for fear of accidentally getting themselves into trouble.

Wang Ming's gaze was like a knife, sweeping over the pale-faced servants. His voice was chilling, carrying an undeniable air of authority:

"Where is the seventh young master? The dignified seventh young master of the Prince's Mansion, is he some kind of coward hiding in plain sight?"

Before the words were finished, a young girl dressed in a light blue maid's uniform stepped shakily out of the crowd. Her face was filled with fear, and her voice trembled with tears, yet she still mustered her courage to speak:

"The...the eldest young master...the seventh young master...he...he is currently in seclusion cultivating, it's not that...it's that he doesn't want to come out and see the eldest young master..."

"Secluded cultivation?" Upon hearing this, Wang Ming laughed in anger, his eyes blazing with murderous intent.

He stepped forward and appeared before the maid like a ghost. With a clang, his longsword was drawn from its sheath, its gleaming blade reflecting a chilling light in the moonlight.

"Who do you think you are? Who gave you the right to speak here?"

The sword tip was pointed directly at the maid's throat, and a chilling killing intent instantly enveloped her.

The maid was so frightened that her face turned pale, her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face, but she couldn't even utter a word to beg for mercy.

Just as the blade was about to touch the maid's neck, its cold light flashing and the aura of death palpable—

"Ding!"

An even sharper sword light, like a rainbow piercing the sun, burst forth from the depths of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, precisely striking the spine of the longsword in Wang Ming's hand.

"boom!"

The powerful sword energy exploded instantly, like waves crashing against the shore, spreading outwards in visible ripples.

The surge of energy instantly overturned the surrounding tables and chairs, and the sword energy tore several deep, bone-revealing cracks into the walls.

Wang Ming felt an immense force coming from the sword, his tiger's mouth went numb, and his body uncontrollably slid back several steps before he could barely regain his footing.

His hand holding the sword trembled slightly, his anger intensified, yet there was also a hint of surprise and uncertainty in his eyes.

He looked up in the direction from which the sword energy came, and saw a tall and slender figure slowly walking out from the depths of the Hidden Dragon Pavilion.

The man was dressed in a black robe, his black hair cascading down his back, and a purple dragon-patterned pendant at his waist that emitted a faint glow in the night.

He walked step by step, each step carrying an imposing aura as solid as a mountain, his body faintly radiating an incomparably sharp sword intent.

"The royal way!"

Wang Ming's eyes were filled with boundless rage, but his heart was churning with turbulent emotions.

"This...how is this possible? Wang Dao...when did you learn swordsmanship?!"

Wang Dao, carrying the Longyuan Sword on his back, walked gracefully towards the capital.

His steps were steady and powerful, each one resonating with Wang Ming's heartstrings.

His black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, dancing wildly in the night wind. The purple dragon-patterned pendant at his waist gleamed with a faint light, making his figure appear even more upright.

Those deep eyes were now filled with an icy chill.

"Brother, you've come from afar; I'm sorry for not greeting you properly." Wang Dao's voice was calm, yet terrifyingly cold, as if it carried shards of ice. "But surely it doesn't warrant... tearing down my house and killing my maids?"

His gaze was like two sharp swords, fixed on Wang Ming, carrying an undeniable sense of oppression.

Wang Ming suppressed the surging anger within him, forced himself to remain calm, and sneered:

"Seventh Brother, you've really got some guts now, daring to attack me just because you have some cultivation?"

He gripped the longsword tightly, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground, radiating a sharp, chilling aura.

"It is impolite not to reciprocate." Wang Dao's lips curled into a mocking smile, the Longyuan Sword in his hand trembling slightly, emitting a low hum. "My elder brother has come to my door, wanting to kill my men. If I still dare not resist, what about martial arts? What about... a man's knees are worth gold?"

At this moment, Wang Dao's sharp edge was fully revealed, showing no sign of yielding.

His blood and qi were subtly boiling, and faint divine light was emanating from his pores. A fierce aura burst forth from his body, instantly permeating the entire Hidden Dragon Pavilion.

"Hmph!" Wang Ming snorted coldly, his anger finally bursting forth. "Sharp-tongued! I don't know where you learned your rudimentary swordsmanship, but daring to show off your skills in front of a true disciple of my Taihao Sword Sect is like trying to wield a broadsword in front of Guan Yu!"

Before he finished speaking, Wang Ming suddenly moved like lightning, his long sword turning into a cold light, aiming straight for Wang Dao's face.

His main skill, the "Sky-Splitting Sword Technique," is the pinnacle of swordsmanship in the Taihao Sword Sect, renowned for its sharpness, speed, and ability to tear through the void.

The first move was a deadly strike; as the sword trembled, there was a vague illusion that space was being torn apart.

"You're courting death!" A cold glint flashed in Wang Dao's eyes.

His blood and energy surged, his spine arched like a bow, and his vertebrae crackled with each other, his strength instantly coursing through his entire body.

The Dragon Abyss Sword in his hand traced a mysterious trajectory in the air, and the true meaning of the Flowing Light Illusionary Dust Sword was instantly revealed—wherever the sword light went, it was difficult to distinguish between truth and falsehood, and reality and illusion were intertwined.

"Fleeting Light and Illusory Dust, Phantom Slash!"

Sword shadows surged toward Wang Ming like a tide, each one seemingly real yet illusory, making it impossible to distinguish which was a real attack from a feint.

Wang Ming's "Sky-Splitting Sword Technique" aims to tear through the void and sever everything, emphasizing the ability to break through all techniques with a single sword strike.

However, faced with Wang Dao's elusive sword shadows, he was momentarily at a loss as to how to proceed.

His swordplay was entangled by the kingly sword shadows, each strike seemingly landing in empty space, yet one could always sense a sharp sword aura attacking from an unexpected angle.

"Damn it!"

Wang Ming was furious.

As a true disciple of the Taihao Sword Sect, he had immersed himself in swordsmanship for many years and considered himself invincible among his peers.

But now, Wang Dao, whom he considered a piece of trash, actually dared to duel him with swordsmanship, and... he was not at a disadvantage, and even subtly suppressed him. How could he accept this?

Every swing of the Dragon Abyss Sword carries a heavy yet swift force, perfectly blending the physical strength of the King's Way with the swordsmanship, each move containing the power to split mountains and shatter rocks.

Amidst the crisscrossing sword lights, sword energy raged within the Hidden Dragon Pavilion, causing more and more cracks to appear on the walls, spreading out like a spider web.

Wang Dao was like a mad swordsman, wielding his swordsmanship with unparalleled strength. His blood and energy surged, and his divine power was immense. Every strike made Wang Ming feel numb.

"You brute, do you think swordsmanship is about winning with brute force?"

Wang Ming's eyes were bloodshot. Although he was also shocked by Wang Dao's swordsmanship, he felt insulted by Wang Dao's use of brute force to wield his swordsmanship.

"Hmph! Only winning is the way of the sword; otherwise, it's all false."

Wang Dao is now a martial artist at the peak of the Dragon Spine realm, possessing divine strength of hundreds of thousands of jin, several times stronger than ordinary people of the same realm.

Even if one needs to conceal their cultivation level at this moment and can only use a portion of their power, it is still a terrifying force.

"Wang Ming, is this the level of a true disciple of the Taihao Sword Sect?"

"Little Dog, you're no good!"