Thud!

Blood and teeth flew from Zhao Fa’s mouth as he demolished the high wall behind him. Fury surged through him like a tide — slapped across the face in front of so many people, teeth knocked out, it made him absolutely livid.

Hiss!

Nine sword glints erupted from his mouth, transforming into nine-colored streaks of rainbow that shot toward Ye Fan’s body — brilliant and magnificent, murderous intent surging forward like a crashing tide.

These were nine divine swords, each forged from a different type of meteoritic iron, each a different color, none longer than the span of a palm — yet every one was extraordinarily sharp, keen as the point of an awl.

They pierced through the void, rushing forth from nothingness like nine feathers of a divine phoenix, spraying forth boundless radiant light as they swept in for the kill.

They appeared alluring and beautiful, yet their killing intent soared to the heavens. They could sever a person’s soul, piercing into the marrow of the bones — ice-cold and chilling.

Boom!

Ye Fan’s golden great hand struck out, covering all nine flying swords of different colors at once, causing them to rattle and tremble violently. Even meteoritic iron of such rarity in the world could not withstand the force of this blow.

Clang, clang, clang…

All nine multicolored swords were caught in Ye Fan’s hand. His golden fingers ground down with tremendous force, producing a constant ringing as every single one was snapped in two.

Then, a cascade of colorful iron powder sifted down through the gaps of his fingers — with the force of his fingers alone, he had ground the divine iron into fine dust!

The crowd felt repeated shocks of the heart. Had the Holy Body truly severed his cultivation? This was utter nonsense — this news was completely misleading!

“You…” Zhao Fa’s expression changed, fear rising in his heart. “You did not sever your cultivation!”

Ye Fan advanced step by step, and with each step he took, the entire street trembled — as if a great drum were being beaten somewhere between heaven and earth, reverberating in every person’s chest.

Zhao Fa’s expression twisted in horror. If Ye Fan had not severed his cultivation, then even if Zhao Fa fought with everything he had, there would be no escaping death. His mind was thrown into utter turmoil.

Hum!

When Zhao Fa’s emotions were most unstable, Ye Fan charged. His golden great hand struck down again, transforming into a golden millstone that came crashing down from above.

“My cultivation truly is severed…” he spoke with a smile on his lips, but his hands showed no mercy whatsoever.

“What…” Zhao Fa was momentarily stunned, but with the distance between them so small, he had no way to dodge — he had no choice but to steel himself and meet the strike.

Clang!

As if hammering down upon an iron post, Ye Fan’s great hand, like a golden millstone, drove half of Zhao Fa’s body into the ground.

Boom!

Ye Fan struck again, causing Zhao Fa’s eyes to flash with stars, blood to gush from his mouth, and his body to sink another foot deeper, chest and below completely swallowed by earth and stone.

“I already told you — my cultivation is severed, half-ruined. I still retain just enough power to protect myself. Yet you took advantage of me like this — did you think I was a soft persimmon that anyone could squeeze as they pleased?”

Ye Fan crouched down, showing not a shred of mercy, and delivered a backhanded slap. With a crisp crack, two or three more of Zhao Fa’s teeth came loose, and the man’s five organs felt as though they were about to burst into flames.

“I forgot to mention the details — under Divine Physician Wang’s treatment, I have indeed severed my Dao Fruit and fallen back to the Palace of the Dao cultivation realm. But I still retain the peak of the Palace of the Dao.” Ye Fan smiled brightly.

Crack!

Then he brought another slap down, leaving Zhao Fa dizzy and seeing stars, blood spraying from his mouth.

“You were far too eager. Rushing so impatiently to seize my holy sword — have you never heard the saying that the rafter which juts out is the first to rot?”

“You have already fallen back to the Palace of the Dao realm?!” Zhao Fa gritted his teeth, his expression glacial, naked killing intent blazing in his eyes.

Boom!

It was as if he had found boundless confidence — a pillar of violet light shot from his body, soaring skyward like a colossal purple dragon stirring the heavens.

Ye Fan laughed, though his gaze grew colder still. He pressed a hand downward and said: “The moment you learned my cultivation was far less than before, you couldn’t contain yourself anymore, could you? Have you not thought about how close you are to me?”

Crack!

He brought a slap slicing down, and the remaining teeth in Zhao Fa’s mouth were nearly all gone, mixing with blood as they scattered in all directions. The purple light surging from Zhao Fa’s body was forcibly pressed back inside.

“With me this close to you, you had best behave yourself!”

Ye Fan delivered another great slap, driving Zhao Fa’s body down another good half-foot, until only a single head remained above the surface of the ground.

Zhao Fa’s face went iron-gray. This was a humiliation he had never suffered in all his life, and grief and fury surged through him so powerfully that he wanted to howl aloud. What had seemed like a situation entirely within his grasp — coming here to seize the holy sword — had ended in this: buried alive in the earth, without even the strength to fight back, having taken several thunderous slaps to the face in succession.

“That is enough — you are going too far!” The Holy Son of Purple Manor stood at a distance, eyes cold, staring at Ye Fan.

“When Zhao Fa was taking advantage of Ye Fan’s half-ruined body just now, why did you say nothing?” Li Heishui slanted a glance at him and said icily, “If you want to stand up for someone, feel free to come over.”

The Black Dog was even more direct, hollering: “You want to take sides with that scoundrel? This Emperor will go a round with you — I wouldn’t mind adding a Holy Son to my collection of pets!”

The onlookers were rendered speechless. Had the Holy Body really severed his cultivation to the Palace of the Dao realm? How was it that everyone at his side was still this ferocious? Truly beyond words — many people muttered among themselves in disbelief.

“Ahh…” The disciples of the Purple Manor Sacred Ground cried out in agony — when had they ever suffered such a loss?

“This Emperor shall send you to the Western Desert to become monks and file down those tempers of yours!” After thoroughly thrashing them, the Great Black Dog spoke up, opened the chessboard formation, and with a flash of light, sent them away.

Everyone’s hearts lurched violently — was the dog serious? Transported to the Western Desert? That seemed absurdly exaggerated!

“Damn, the formation went sideways again — they all ended up in the Northern Plains.” The Great Black Dog was utterly vexed, having clearly done something unreliable once more.

The many cultivators in the vicinity did not believe it, assuming it was bragging. Only the Old Madman’s vacant eyes flickered with a gleam of light as he stared for a few moments.

“You have gone too far!”

At that moment, a cold voice rang out. From a teahouse not far away, a man in purple robes stood and approached with long strides.

“The Holy Son of Purple Manor!” someone cried out in alarm.

Alongside him, a fair-complexioned man also walked over — it was Zhao Fa of the Purple Subtlety Sect. His appearance was quite refined, and his smile carried a deep, meaningful undercurrent.

“Brother Ye, it has been the better part of a month since we last met. Knowing this place is closest to Divine Physician Wang’s place of seclusion, I waited here especially for your appearance — I wish to purchase that holy sword from you.”

Zhao Fa was composed and steady as he walked over alongside the Holy Son of Purple Manor, his face wreathed in smiles, as if genuinely delighted.

Ye Fan also smiled, knowing this man was anything but well-intentioned. At the Wind Clan banquet, Xiao Nannan had overheard him in conversation — he had been scheming to seize the holy sword and plotting to make a vicious move against Ye Fan.

“I have no desire to sell it yet. I intend to exchange it for a sacred medicine.” Ye Fan refused outright.

Zhao Fa’s expression immediately soured. “Brother Ye, do you still have any need for a holy sword in your current state? Since you have already severed your cultivation, you would do better to sell.”

“What do you mean by that?” Li Heishui demanded.

The Holy Son of Purple Manor said nothing more. His gaze was ice-cold as he stood to one side, sweeping his eyes over the group.

With a snap, Zhao Fa opened his folding fan and said in unhurried composure, with a cold sneer, “I want to buy the holy sword — it is for Brother Ye’s own good. Otherwise, it will most likely invite calamity.”

“Is that a threat?” Ye Fan asked, without the slightest heat or anger in his voice.

“Not at all — would I, Zhao Fa, be that sort of person? I am merely reminding Brother Ye that others may try to take it by force. You would do well to sell it to me sooner rather than later.” Zhao Fa’s smile was deep and inscrutable.

As if something had just occurred to him, his eyes lit up with a brilliant gleam. “Your qilin sacred medicine seed should still be on your person — why not sell that to us as well? Brother Holy Son and I intend to purchase them jointly.”

“The qilin sacred medicine seed has been consumed by me. The holy sword is not for sale. If you have no other business, kindly step aside.” Ye Fan said blandly, his distaste for this person having reached its absolute limit.

The other man was truly taking advantage of his supposed “ruin,” having begun to speak in veiled threats as he attempted to seize the treasures on his person — it was infuriating beyond measure.

Zhao Fa’s expression went cold at once. He snapped his fan shut with a crack, a sliver of a cold smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“You have treated several of my junior brothers far too excessively. Where did you send them?” The Holy Son of Purple Manor suddenly spoke, his expression indifferent, eyes fixed on the Great Black Dog.

“Sent them to the Northern Plains. Would you like to go reunite with them? The Western Desert is actually quite a fine choice as well — you could enter a monastery there.” The Great Black Dog quipped, eyeing him sidelong without the slightest hint of fear.

“Brother Ye, you are all on the verge of catastrophe — unaware of it, I take it?” Zhao Fa’s face wore a sinister smile.

“Are you planning to act against me?” Ye Fan smiled faintly, the picture of ease and tranquility.

Zhao Fa tapped his palm with his folding fan. “Would I, Zhao Fa, be that kind of person? What I am telling you is that people from the Yin-Yang Sect of the Central Province have arrived. Do you know what that means?”

Ye Fan’s expression stirred. He had slain the Holy Maiden of Yin-Yang — this was a grudge too deep to ever bridge, and there was no possibility of the other side simply letting it go.

The Yin-Yang Sect was a supreme great sect of the Central Province. The reason they had not retaliated immediately was primarily the pressure exerted by the various sacred grounds, which had forced them to withdraw — for they had been abducting the talented young children of various sects throughout the Eastern Wastelands, provoking tremendous outrage and making it impossible to remain any longer.

And now they had come again?

“According to what I have heard, they arrived in the central territory of the Eastern Wastelands ten days ago. The Holy Son of Yin-Yang has come bearing the Yin-Yang Sword, intending to use that terrifying sacred treasure to sever your head.” Zhao Fa chuckled and said, “At the time, he did not yet know you were going to sever your cultivation — looking at things now, it seems he will have no need for the Yin-Yang Sword.”

He continued: “They are a supreme great sect of the Central Province and do not particularly hold the Unrivaled Divine Kings of the Eastern Wastelands in awe — especially since the Divine King’s life or death remains unknown. Furthermore, I have heard that in order to ensure your death with absolute certainty and establish the might and prestige of the Yin-Yang Sect, they have dispatched several Supreme Elders whose lifespans are nearly spent, resolved to take your head. Among them is a half-step Great Able One — and even a true Great Able One who looks down upon all under heaven.”

“The Yin-Yang Sect has dispatched Great Able Ones to kill me?” Ye Fan’s heart gave a thump, but he quickly settled again, rubbing his chin with a smile spreading across his face.

At present, the Old Madman was by his side — he feared nothing. Even if the supreme sect master of the Central Province came personally to behead him, they would not be returning.

“If Brother Ye were to sell the holy sword and the sacred medicine seed, I would be willing to provide you with a means of escape.” Zhao Fa said unhurriedly. “At the very least, I could allow you to live for quite some time longer.”

“As I said — the holy sword is not for sale, and the sacred medicine seed has been consumed by me.” Ye Fan said coldly.

“Brother Ye, you are truly one who refuses a toast only to drink a forfeit. My sincerity toward you is entirely genuine, yet you refuse to accept it at all!” Zhao Fa’s face darkened.

“I do not wish to sell — are you thinking of forcing the purchase?” Ye Fan stared at him.

“Brother Ye, you really ought to think this through carefully!” Zhao Fa let out a cold chuckle, then clapped him on the shoulder — and a subtle thread of concealed force seeped out from his palm.

This was a cleverly concealed hidden technique: it would not take effect at the moment, but afterward could cause a person to vomit blood and sustain severe injuries. He was plainly planning to make Ye Fan suffer a heavy loss.

“Take your hand away.” Ye Fan’s face went stern.

At his side, the Holy Son of Purple Manor watched all of this with cold detachment, making no indication — neither intervening nor offering any assistance.

Zhao Fa’s expression stiffened. “Brother Ye, your words are truly going too far!”

With that, he quietly released another thread of concealed force, sending it through his palm into Ye Fan’s body.

“Get away from me.” Ye Fan’s expression turned to ice, his eyes locking onto the man with absolute intensity.

“You told me to get away?” Zhao Fa’s expression frosted over, and his hand went rigid where it was.

The others were equally taken aback. The divine physician had made it clear, and moments ago Ye Fan himself had admitted — that the Holy Body could only survive by severing his cultivation — yet somehow he still dared to be this forceful.

Many people were unaware that Zhao Fa had released concealed force; naturally they were all quite shaken, assuming Ye Fan was simply being fiercely averse to this person.

“You truly don’t know what is good for you — Brother Ye, don’t come to regret this!” Zhao Fa sneered coldly and gave him another light pat.

“Seizing treasures from my person by force — is that goodwill? Channeling concealed force into my body to worsen my injuries — is that good intentions?!” Ye Fan’s expression went glacial, and a golden great hand suddenly swept outward.

Crack!

The sharp, clear slap rang out thunderously. Zhao Fa spat blood, six or seven teeth flew from his mouth, and his entire body hurtled sideways, crashing into a wall corner not far away.

“Gasp—!”

The crowd erupted in shock, every face showing astonishment. Hadn’t the Holy Body severed his cultivation? How had a single slap sent Zhao Fa flying?

“You…” Zhao Fa trembled all over with rage and leapt to his feet in an instant.

But in that moment, Ye Fan transformed into a streak of golden light — his footwork following Tianxuan’s Steps — and closed the distance in a flash, bringing his golden great hand sweeping around again.

Crack!

Blood sprayed from Zhao Fa’s mouth, three more teeth flew loose, and his body hurtled sideways through the air once more, slamming into the wall.