Chapter 79: The Third Blade

The young man’s hands twisted into an eerie angle, rendering him incapable of coherent speech. He could only roll on the ground in agony, screaming in pain. After a few cries, he fainted from the excruciating pain.

The group at the alley entrance, witnessing this scene, all turned pale with shock.

A gaunt man, dressed in flamboyant clothes, roared in anger, “How dare you harm one of our Big Knife Gang members! Get him, chop him up!”

Several thugs drew their cleavers and rushed forward, bringing them down upon Qian Ye with great force. Their cleavers were uniform in style, about half a meter long, with thick backs and straight blades. The weight and sharpness of these blades could easily sever bone with a solid strike.

These thugs, with twisted and ferocious expressions, attacked with all their might. The whistling of their cleavers seemed to express their fervent desire to chop Qian Ye into pieces instantly.

Qian Ye responded effortlessly, sidestepping through the gaps between two cleavers. He grabbed the gaunt man, swung his arm, and smashed the man against the wall of the alley. A dull thud echoed, and a human-shaped indentation appeared in the red brick wall. The gaunt man’s body was embedded in the wall, and he passed out immediately.

At the same time, Qian Ye kicked another thug flying over ten meters. With a backhanded slap, he sent another thug spinning into the air, landing several rotations later. Blood mixed with teeth splattered on the opposite wall.

In a blink, only the most vicious thug remained. Despite his best efforts, he could not even touch Qian Ye’s clothes. Qian Ye casually grabbed the thug’s wrist, twisted it, and guided the blade of the cleaver into the thug’s own abdomen.

Within moments, no one in the alley but Qian Ye was left standing.

Qian Ye’s furrowed brows did not relax; his instincts told him that this incident was not as simple as it seemed. Even in the dark city of Eternal Night, where the strong represented the law, the thugs would not be so brutal without a special reason.

As Qian Ye turned around, another bald, tattooed thug rushed out from the alley entrance. With a murderous expression, he aimed a large-caliber origin gun at Qian Ye and pulled the trigger.

Before the trigger reached its full travel, Qian Ye stomped on the ground. A shockwave traveled along the ground and sent the thug flying into the air. The bullet, intended for Qian Ye, went wide.

With a thud, the bald thug landed heavily on the ground, the origin gun slipping from his hand. Qian Ye appeared beside him, catching the falling gun with his right hand.

The bald thug tried to get up, but he froze when he felt the hot muzzle of the origin gun pressed against his cheekbone.

His throat bobbed, and he stammered, “Don’t… don’t kill me! I was just following orders, I had no choice!”

Ignoring him, Qian Ye slowly raised his head.

A towering, menacing man, nearly two meters tall, walked into the alley. His coat hung open, revealing a chest covered in black hair. On his waist hung three swords, one long and two short.

The man stopped ten meters away from Qian Ye and pointed his thumb at himself, “I am Ma Zuo, known as Ma San Dao among the brothers. But in recent years, few have seen my third sword.”

Qian Ye examined Ma San Dao. In his true vision, Ma San Dao’s nine origin nodes glowed brightly, showing a strong but inconsistent flow of energy. Some nodes were overly active, while others lacked strength, and there were many impurities.

This man, Ma San Dao, was a ninth-level warrior, who had been stuck at this level for a while. Due to his poor foundation, although his origin power was profound, it was not pure, making it extremely difficult for him to advance to a war general.

Ma San Dao frowned. Qian Ye’s suddenly blue eyes made him very uncomfortable, as if he was being seen through, naked and exposed.

Spitting in anger, Ma San Dao drew his long sword and pointed it at Qian Ye, “You, kid, you’re unlucky. Someone paid a lot to take your life. Now, let the baldy go, hand over the goods, and I’ll make your death swift.”

Qian Ye simply replied, “I don’t have the habit of sparing those who try to kill me.”

He pulled the trigger. The origin gun roared, and the thug’s head exploded.

“Baldy!!” Ma San Dao roared, his face turning ashen. His eyes, like flaming torches, locked onto Qian Ye, “Good! I haven’t seen such a reckless kid in years! It seems I haven’t been out much lately, and people have forgotten who Ma San Dao is. Kid, don’t worry, after I kill you, I’ll find your family and make them pay. Die, kid!”

Ma San Dao leapt, rushing at Qian Ye with his long sword cutting through the air.

In Qian Ye’s vision, the surrounding origin energy fluctuated before Ma San Dao’s sword struck, and a wave of energy shot out, clearly showing the trajectory of the attack.

Qian Ye sidestepped, allowing the blade to pass by, effortlessly evading it.

Ma San Dao was shocked. Even if Qian Ye had blocked the attack, it wouldn’t have been more surprising. At his level, although he couldn’t summon the power of nature, he could influence the area of attack. Normal opponents would never dodge so closely. Yet, Qian Ye did, unscathed.

Ma San Dao, though surprised, didn’t pause. He continued his charge, drawing a short sword with his left hand and slashing at Qian Ye’s waist.

This strike was cunning, with origin energy shooting out half a meter. If it hit, it would be as lethal as a direct cut.

But Qian Ye didn’t move, merely tucking his abdomen away, avoiding Ma San Dao’s deadly strike.

Ma San Dao was truly stunned. He lifted his long sword, pointing at Qian Ye, and gritted his teeth, “You little brat, quite slippery! I’ll show you my third sword!”

As he spoke, Ma San Dao’s left hand reached for the third sword. However, he already held a short sword in that hand. Was he planning to hold two swords at once?

Qian Ye saw an origin energy wave form at the tip of Ma San Dao’s long sword, extending directly towards his chest.

Reacting, Qian Ye brought out Crimson Tooth, raising it to block the attack.

Ma San Dao shouted, his long sword vibrating, and the tip suddenly detached, shooting towards Qian Ye’s heart. This was his third sword!

Crimson Tooth’s light barrier formed, and with a clang, the sword blade hit and bounced away, flying far off.

So that’s how it works! Qian Ye realized. With true vision, he could see the flow of origin energy, predicting the attack’s path. This brief foresight was enough to change the outcome in a close combat.

Qian Ye reached for his waist, Bloody Mandala in his left hand, aiming at Ma San Dao.

Ma San Dao felt a strong sense of danger, the fear of imminent death. In close combat, the origin gun’s effectiveness was limited, so he roared and lunged at Qian Ye.

In an instant, they were in close range. The origin gun was useless. Qian Ye roared, but instead of backing away, he flipped his wrist, stabbing Crimson Tooth at Ma San Dao’s chest.

Ma San Dao screeched, crossing his swords to parry the dagger. But Qian Ye’s stab slowed, and Ma San Dao, countering, blocked Crimson Tooth.

As the three swords clashed, Ma San Dao was jolted, his swords flying from his hands. Crimson Tooth plunged into his abdomen, up to the hilt.

Qian Ye pushed, and Ma San Dao flew back, crashing into the courtyard wall, collapsing to the ground. Crimson Tooth’s blade was clean, without a trace of blood.

Qian Ye approached Ma San Dao, “Now, tell me, who wants me dead. If you’re cooperative, I might spare you. If not, we’ll see who can endure longer.”

Qian Ye produced a strange set of small tools, like various metal wires. Ma San Dao’s face changed; he knew what these were: specialized torture instruments, more terrifying than any whip or branding iron.

Seeing Qian Ye approach, Ma San Dao trembled, yelling, “Wait! I’ll talk! You’ve angered someone untouchable. Leave the goods, and run!”

“Untouchable? How untouchable?” Qian Ye stepped closer.

Suddenly, Qian Ye sensed something odd, hearing a strange whistle. The sound was faint but clear, indicating an unusual silence.

Qian Ye stopped, his pupils turning blue again. The tools vanished from his hand, and he placed his hand on the holster at his waist.

The sun blazed overhead, the cicadas’ chorus filling the air. Ignoring the injured thugs, only Qian Ye and Ma San Dao were alive in the alley.

Too quiet.

It was daytime, in the city center, and the alley should not be empty. Where were the people?

Ma San Dao, clutching his wound, gasped, his face pale with fear, sweat beads forming on his forehead.

The silence shattered as a rumbling engine sounded. An armed jeep squeezed into the alley, stopping abruptly.

Several soldiers jumped out, guns aimed. Their uniforms and insignias clearly marked them as Zhao’s private army, the city’s defense force.