Martial Dao: I Can Enhance My Talents

Inside the hall, the sounds of exploding Qi Force and weapons tearing through the air were unending. Debris from shattered tables and chairs filled the air, and deep gouges from the fierce Qi Force scarred the stone floor.

Facing an encirclement of six men—the weakest of whom were Eighth Grade, with two Seventh Grade Martial Artists among them—Fang Han’s pupils constricted, yet he showed no fear.

SWOOSH!

He instantly pushed his Wind Shadow Step to the absolute limit. His figure moved like a phantom, leaving a trail of afterimages in the cramped space as he weaved through the gaps between flashing blades and palm-shadows by a hair’s breadth.

SHIIING!

The Cyan Blade Sword transformed into a streak of cyan lightning as he fully unleashed his Wind-Splitting Swordsmanship, which had reached the Perfection Level.

His Sword Techniques were no longer rigid; each fluid strike held the power to split wind and break metal. His Sword Momentum stirred the air, making his movements all the more erratic and unpredictable.

With a flicker, he first dodged Zhou Tianxiong’s heavy and powerful Red Flame Palm. Then, with a quiver of its tip, his sword struck the spine of the Seventh-Grade Blade Elder’s saber with unerring precision.

CLANG! With a crisp ring, the Elder felt a peerlessly sharp Power transmit through his weapon. The webbing of his thumb went numb, and the momentum of his blade faltered.

The other four Eighth Grade Elders’ attacks were already upon him from behind!

As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Fang Han tapped his toes sharply against the ground and shot upward like a great roc, narrowly dodging the crisscrossing blades.

While in mid-air, he twisted at the waist, and his Cyan Blade Sword scattered flecks of cold light, striking at the wrists of all four men!

PFFT! "Aargh!"

Two of the Eighth Grade Elders were struck in the wrist. Their Weapons fell from their grasp as they cried out and staggered backward.

The other two barely managed to parry, but the sharp Qi Force infused in the blade sent their blood and qi into turmoil.

In a single exchange, Fang Han had relied on his extraordinary Body Technique and Swordsmanship to break the encirclement and injure two of his assailants!

Sect Disciples were stronger than ordinary Martial Artists of the same Realm, and his strength surpassed even that of other Sect Disciples at his level.

"Don’t get cocky!"

Zhou Tianxiong was both shocked and enraged. He never imagined that Fang Han could move with such ease while surrounded by six men, even managing to counterattack and injure them.

He let out a furious roar and pushed the power of his Red Flame Palm. The Palm Wind was scorching hot, searing the air until it visibly distorted. He unleashed a rapid series of palm strikes, sealing off all of Fang Han’s room to evade.

The other Seventh Grade Elder also launched a full-force assault, the gleam of his blade aimed constantly at Fang Han’s vital points.

Fang Han’s eyes were like ice. He pushed his Wind Shadow Step to its absolute limit.

He ducked and weaved within the confined space, his Cyan Blade Sword a blur of taps, slices, thrusts, and parries. He brought the core principles of his Wind-Splitting Swordsmanship—speed, precision, ruthlessness, and deception—to their absolute peak.

The wind from his sword shrieked as it clashed violently with his opponents’ Palm Wind and blade energy, producing a dense flurry of ringing steel and exploding Qi Force.

’I have to take a few of them out first to relieve the pressure,’ he knew.

His gaze swept across the room and locked onto the two injured Eighth Grade Elders. They were his opening!

"Die!"

Fang Han abruptly put his strength into it, taking the brunt of Zhou Tianxiong’s scorching Palm Wind on his sword. Using the force of the blow, he shot forward like a bolt of lightning, lunging straight for the two wrist-injured Eighth Grade Elders who were attempting to fall back.

The Cyan Blade Sword became a streak of cyan lightning tearing through the air, its speed unimaginably fast.

"Watch out!" Zhou Tianxiong roared, his eyes nearly splitting from rage. He gave chase, but he was too late to save them.

The two Elders saw only a blur before the sword’s light was upon them.

A bloody hole appeared in one man’s throat while the other’s chest was pierced through. Their eyes were filled with terror and disbelief as their bodies collapsed to the floor.

Two men down in an instant!

The encirclement wasn’t broken, but the pressure had eased significantly!

"Fifth Elder! Sixth Elder!"

Seeing the brutal deaths of two Elders he was close with, the Elder wielding the Judge’s Pen roared with rage, his eyes bloodshot. Like a Mad Tiger, he ignored the massive opening in his own defense and thrust his Judge’s Pen toward Fang Han’s back with a piercing shriek.

’You’re courting death!’ As if he had eyes in the back of his head, Fang Han twisted his body in an unnatural way and swung the Cyan Blade Sword backhanded from an impossible angle.

CRACK! The Judge’s Pen was sliced in half!

The blade’s light continued unabated, its momentum carrying it across the man’s neck. A head, its face a mask of resentment and indignation, flew into the air.

Another Eighth Grade Elder was dead!

In just a few breaths, three of the five Zhou Family Elders were dead. Only Zhou Tianxiong, the Seventh-Grade Blade Elder, and one other terrified Eighth Grade Elder were left.

A chill gripped Zhou Tianxiong’s heart. He finally realized that this young Qingxuan Sect disciple’s strength far, far surpassed his estimations!

’That divine, ghostly Swordsmanship and Body Technique... it’s like a nightmare.’ He knew then that the Zhou Family was doomed.

"I’ll take you down with me!"

Zhou Tianxiong’s eyes turned crimson as he went completely berserk. The Inner Qi in his body erupted without restraint, pushing his Red Flame Palm to its absolute peak. Looking like a man engulfed in flames, he threw himself forward in a kamikaze attack.

The Seventh-Grade Blade Elder also roared and charged, swinging his blade.

SWOOSH!

A sharp glint appeared in Fang Han’s eyes. The Middle-stage Seventh Grade Inner Qi within him surged. Activating his Wind Shadow Step, his figure sliced between the two men’s attacks like the wind itself.

The Cyan Blade Sword let out a clear, piercing cry. The cyan light emanating from its blade intensified, condensing all of his comprehension of Wind Momentum.

It became a single, hyper-condensed thread of cyan light. Though he struck second, his blade arrived first, piercing through the shadow of Zhou Tianxiong’s palm to strike his chest with pinpoint accuracy.

PFFT!

Zhou Tianxiong’s forward charge came to a sudden halt. He looked down in disbelief at the sword tip embedded in his chest.

He slowly lifted his head to look at Fang Han, his eyes filled with despair, indignation, and a strange hint of relief. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Then, he crashed to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, Fang Han flicked his wrist. The sword’s light wheeled around in a traceless, unpredictable arc, slitting the throat of the Seventh-Grade Blade Elder.

The last Eighth Grade Elder, already scared out of his wits, turned to flee.

Fang Han’s gaze was glacial. He flicked a longsword up from the ground with the tip of his boot and kicked it with all his might.

THWIP!

The longsword shot out like a crossbow bolt, piercing through the Elder’s back and emerging from his chest.

The Elder staggered a few steps before collapsing to the ground, his life extinguished.

In the blink of an eye, no one was left standing in the hall but Fang Han. All six core members of the Zhou Family had been slain!

The thick stench of blood now filled the front hall, mingling with the lingering aroma of tea to create a bizarre, nauseating smell.

"Hooo..."

Fang Han stood with his sword in hand, breathing heavily. The continuous, high-intensity battle had taken a great toll on both his Inner Qi and his stamina.

Beads of blood slid slowly down the spine of the Cyan Blade Sword, dripping onto the blood-soaked floor with a soft *pat, pat* sound.

His gaze swept over the corpses strewn across the floor, his expression calm and unperturbed.

’They chose to resist, so they must bear the consequences.’

"Since you chose to resist, you have no one to blame but yourselves."

After calming the roiling blood and qi within him, Fang Han slowly let out a breath. His cold gaze swept across the carnage, finally settling on Zhou Tong, who was huddled by a pillar, his face the color of ash.

Zhou Tong had watched with his own eyes as his brother, Zhou Tianxiong, and five of his family’s Elders were slaughtered by Fang Han in mere moments, cut down like weeds. It was as if his very soul had been ripped out; his eyes were hollow, filled with despair and a dead silence.

When Fang Han’s gaze landed on him, that hollow expression was instantly replaced by a tidal wave of venomous hatred and madness!

"You little bastard! You killed my brother and destroyed the foundation of my Zhou Family! I’ll kill you!!"

Zhou Tong shrieked, his voice as hoarse as the cry of a Night Owl. His bloodshot eyes held nothing but bone-deep hatred.

He ignored the gruesome, bone-deep wound on his chest and his severe internal injuries, leaping from the ground like a dying beast. Mustering what little strength he had left, he lunged at Fang Han.

His fingers formed a claw, slicing through the air with a mournful whistle as he aimed for Fang Han’s face, determined to trade his life for his enemy’s.

However, in his severely injured state, he had less than a tenth of his original speed and strength. In Fang Han’s eyes, this desperate attack was riddled with openings and pathetically slow.

Fang Han’s eyes turned colder. Without even moving from his spot, he flicked his wrist. The Cyan Blade Sword flashed like cyan lightning. Though it moved second, it arrived first, slapping squarely against Zhou Tong’s wrist.

CRACK!

With a sharp snap, Zhou Tong’s wrist bone shattered.

"Aaaargh—!"

Zhou Tong let out a bloodcurdling scream as his attack completely fell apart. As if his bones had been removed, he collapsed to the floor once more.

He clutched his mangled wrist, his body trembling violently, able to do nothing but groan in agony.

"Stubborn fool."

Fang Han snorted and looked away from Zhou Tong.

His gaze shifted to the Zhou Family servants and guards outside the hall, who stood frozen in fear, trembling. His voice was bone-chillingly cold.

"Find me some strong rope!"

One of the quicker-witted servants scrambled to fetch several coils of thick hemp rope.

Fang Han tied up Zhou Tong himself. The man was nearly unconscious from the excruciating pain and blood loss, and Fang Han bound him tightly to ensure he was completely incapable of resisting.

He then walked out of the front hall, sword in hand. His icy gaze swept over the Zhou Clan Members gathered in the courtyard, all of them paralyzed with terror.

"Zhou Tong committed a heinous crime. Zhou Tianxiong and the others attempted to harbor a fugitive and assassinate a disciple of the Qingxuan Sect. They have now been executed!"

Fang Han’s voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to every person’s ears, filled with an undeniable authority.

"If you do not wish to share their fate, you will cooperate. Gather every member of the Zhou clan in the front courtyard and await my judgment! Anyone who makes a wrong move or attempts to send for help will be killed without mercy!"

Cowed by Fang Han’s murderous aura and the fearsome reputation of the Qingxuan Sect, none of the Zhou Clan Members dared to resist.

Led by a few of the head guards, they fearfully rounded up every member of the Zhou clan scattered throughout the estate—man, woman, and child—and herded them into the front courtyard. A dark mass of people knelt on the ground, their cries and pleas filling the air.

Fang Han stood on the steps, sword in hand, his gaze as sharp as lightning as it swept slowly over the crowd.

"Where is the Zhou Family treasury? Tell me, and your judgment may be lenient."

His voice was level, yet it carried a lethal threat.

A stir went through the crowd, but no one dared to answer immediately.

Fang Han’s eyes grew cold. He raised the Cyan Blade Sword slightly, aiming its tip at a richly dressed, middle-aged man who appeared to be from the main branch of the Zhou Family.

"You. Speak."

The man was scared witless, and he began kowtowing frantically.

"Young Master, spare my life! Please, spare me! The treasury... only the Patriarch and the Core Elders knew its exact location. I... I really don’t know!"

Fang Han turned his gaze to another person.

"And you?"

"I... I don’t know either..."

He asked several more people, but none of them knew anything.

Fang Han’s brow furrowed slightly. ’It makes sense that ordinary clan members wouldn’t know the location of a place as important as the family treasury,’ he thought.

His eyes swept over the crowd once more, finally landing on a young man hiding in the back, his eyes darting about nervously.

The young man froze, his face turning deathly pale the moment he saw Fang Han looking at him.

With a tap of his toe, Fang Han flitted through the crowd like a phantom, yanked the young man out, and threw him down at the foot of the steps.

"Do you know where the treasury is?"

The young man collapsed to the ground, his teeth chattering as he babbled incoherently.

"I... Young Master, spare me... I... I’ll talk... I’ll talk..."

Under the threat of death, he finally broke down, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"It’s... in my father’s study... behind the bookshelf... Th-there’s a mechanism..."