This Martial Saint is Too Cautious

He was waiting. Waiting for Wu Ya to make the first move, waiting for Lin Yan’s attention to be drawn, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

And Lin Yan did indeed give him that opportunity.

SWISH!

Lin Yan took a single step, his form becoming a phantom as he closed to within thirty feet of Wu Ya. A flash of sword light appeared.

Wu Ya’s pupils constricted. He instinctively raised his broadsaber to block, only to find the flash of sword light was already before him.

Too fast.

Now he understood why Liu Kun hadn’t been able to react at all.

A soft hiss.

The sound was so faint it was nearly inaudible.

Wu Ya’s movements froze. His broadsaber was halfway raised, the look of terror permanently fixed on his face.

He died in the exact same way as Liu Kun.

The moment Wu Ya’s body went rigid, Zhou Hong made his move. In his eyes, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Because Lin Yan’s sword was currently at Wu Ya’s throat. Its Sword Momentum was spent, and there was no time to withdraw it.

"Die!"

Zhou Hong roared and swung his long saber.

He poured all his strength into this strike. The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle, aiming straight for the back of Lin Yan’s neck.

The blade had yet to land, but the fierce wind it stirred was already upon him.

A flash of glee appeared in Zhou Hong’s eyes.

’Lin Yan’s sword is still pointed at Wu Ya. He has no time to turn around.’

’There’s no way he can dodge this strike.’

’So what if he’s a genius, just some kid at the Third-Time of Skin Smoothing?’

’So what if he’s mastered Sword Intent?’

’Actual combat experience is what truly decides life and death.’

’I’ve been in the Martial Arts Community for twenty years. I’ve killed more people than that kid has even met.’

’So young. Still too young.’

The corners of Zhou Hong’s mouth even turned up slightly, as if he could already see his blade slicing into the back of Lin Yan’s neck.

However, just as the edge of the blade was about to touch Lin Yan’s body,

Lin Yan moved.

He didn’t turn, nor did he sidestep. It was a form of movement Zhou Hong had never seen before. Lin Yan’s body was like smoke scattered by the wind; one moment he was there, the next he had already appeared three feet to the left.

Zhou Hong’s pupils shrank.

’The man just slid away—silent, soundless, and as fast as a phantom.’

’What kind of footwork is that?’

’How could he possibly dodge that?’

Countless thoughts flashed through Zhou Hong’s mind, each one filled with deep shock and disbelief.

But his body reacted faster than his brain. His first strike having missed, he immediately changed his attack, swinging his long saber in a horizontal slash to block Lin Yan’s escape.

But as fast as his saber was, Lin Yan was faster.

His figure flickered, reappearing before Zhou Hong like a phantom.

A flash of sword light.

This time, the light wasn’t a curve, but a perfectly straight line.

Taking advantage of the opening in Zhou Hong’s guard as he swung his saber, the sword stabbed straight into his chest.

Sword Qi surged, and in an instant, Zhou Hong’s chest exploded, spraying a cloud of blood mist.

"You... who in the world are you..."

Zhou Hong looked down at his chest, his eyes filled with disbelief and unwillingness to accept his fate. He simply couldn’t believe that a young man at the Third-Time of Skin Smoothing could be this powerful.

Unfortunately, he never finished his sentence. His body crashed to the ground, his last breath gone.

SHRIEK!

The Eagle perched on a nearby branch let out a piercing shriek. It spread its wings to fly away, but with a swing of Lin Yan’s sword, the Eagle was sliced in two before it could even utter a final cry, its body falling to the ground.

"Since you’re so loyal, I’ll send you to be reunited with your master."

Glancing at the Eagle’s corpse, Lin Yan’s expression was calm. He ultimately chose not to leave anyone alive. For one, he never had the habit of holding back when he attacked.

He had gone all out, using his Stone Waist Thunder Ridge and Jinghong Sword Technique. If his opponents could survive even that, his only option would have been to flee with the Smoke-Stepping Technique.

Secondly, even if he had left them alive, he might not have been able to torture the truth out of them. As they were dying, the three had wildly accused others, and he had no way of knowing what was true or false.

Unless he kept them alive for a confrontation, but doing so would expose his own trump cards.