Tonight, it was Zeng Ran’s turn to take the night shift.
As a leader of the Mingse Black Robe class, Zeng Ran was undoubtedly one of the outstanding young assassins of his generation. The Mingse Assassination Corps originally had an old system, but after the “Mingse Night,” nearly the entire organization was wiped out in order to protect the emperor from danger. Over the past ten years, the Senate has carefully cultivated and finally rebuilt the entire Mingse Assassination Corps system.
The assassins were divided into three levels according to their combat abilities. Those with a battle power of level 14 or above were classified as Gray Robe class. Those with level 18 or above were Black Robe class. And those with level 22 or above were Purple Robe class.
Nowadays, the Mingse Assassination Corps had become quite powerful. There were thousands of Gray Robe assassins, hundreds of Black Robe assassins, and even eighteen Purple Robe assassins.
It could be said that the strength of the Mingse Assassination Corps was among the top in the Ten Sword Streams.
If it weren’t for the团长’s conflict with the Purple Robe experts, the combat power of the entire Mingse Corps would likely be even stronger.
To prevent the Mingse from becoming too powerful, the Senate had always appointed someone outside of Mingse to be the团长, rather than a high-level expert trained by the Corps itself. However, each new团长 usually had a tense relationship with the Purple Robe experts, creating mutual restraint that somewhat weakened Mingse’s overall strength.
Such matters were beyond Zeng Ran’s concern. He merely gave them a fleeting thought before shifting his gaze away from the distant commander’s tent and resuming his careful inspection of the hidden sentries.
In truth, there was never much to check. The Mingse Assassination Corps was strictly hierarchical and clearly divided in roles. The hidden sentries in the shadows were always secure. Especially in this desolate and frigid place, no one in their right mind would dare to come here to die.
Thus, Zeng Ran relaxed his vigilance, but his stomach suddenly felt uneasy, causing him slight discomfort.
With Zeng Ran’s cultivation of Qingju energy, his entire body should have been icy cold. To outsiders, he resembled an ancient block of ice, lifeless and emotionless. Yet, at this moment, it felt as if a fire was burning inside his abdomen, accumulating and even dispersing some of his Qingju energy.
“The dinner tonight must have been too spicy,” Zeng Ran muttered to himself. As a Mingse assassin, it was rare to have a hot meal. Today was special because the captain, who had been away for a long time, had returned, allowing them to enjoy a warm meal.
Zeng Ran approached the last hidden sentry and saw his two Gray Robe subordinates seemingly melting into the massive star rock like gray mist. Such a concealment technique was unique to the Mingse Assassination Corps. Even other sword sects would find it difficult to detect.
Truly, there might not even be anyone alive yet who could penetrate the Mingse defense lines.
Zeng Ran felt a surge of pride. He glanced once more at the sentry before preparing to return and deal with his stomach issue. But that one glance caused his vision to blur as if a gray mist had appeared, revealing something strange.
Zeng Ran saw the heads of the two Gray Robe subordinates suddenly fly into the air.
It was a very eerie sight. The two had been hidden inside the star rock, almost completely fused with it, making their silhouettes indistinguishable. Yet, from within that unity, two masked heads floated upward. If one didn’t know there was a sentry there, one might think the star rock itself had sprouted heads.
Zeng Ran instinctively froze for a moment. He quickly looked around but saw no one. Then he rushed toward the star rock to investigate.
By sheer luck, Zeng Ran suddenly sensed a sharp gust of wind coming straight at him.
Zeng Ran, as a Black Robe leader, was no pretender. Though he didn’t know what it was, his body twisted instinctively, collapsing to the ground like a pile of mud. His reaction was so fast that even his subordinates were unaware of what had happened.
As the sharp wind passed, a scream erupted from behind Zeng Ran. One of his Gray Robe subordinates had been sliced in half by an invisible force, his blood and entrails spraying everywhere.
Looking again, amidst the blood rain, a crescent-shaped, peculiar flying blade briefly revealed itself. It circled gracefully before returning in an elegant arc to the person emerging from behind the star rock.
The person wore a long black coat, with golden ornamental patterns on the collar and cuffs, clearly dressed as a high-ranking officer.
“Who are you?” Zeng Ran drew his sword and demanded.
“Me?” Yang Hao smiled slightly, his hands still behind his back as he strolled forward leisurely. Yet, the Shadow Moon blade vanished into the air once more, rushing toward Zeng Ran with a chilling gust of wind, accompanied by Yang Hao’s voice: “I am the Lord of the Shen Yu Autonomous Territory, and the future Viscount of the Empire.”
Though Yang Hao’s Shadow Moon blade was invisible, Zeng Ran knew he was in grave danger. He immediately did three things:
Retreat.
Flick his sword!
Release poison!!
This series of actions was executed seamlessly and swiftly, leaving one in awe. Zeng Ran retreated cleanly and decisively, not caring about his subordinates as he shot rapidly toward the main camp.
His sword flick was equally impressive, producing a powerful, resonant hum. This sound was so intense that a similar sound echoed from within the Mingse main camp, signaling danger through the Mingse’s unique alarm system.
As for the powder Zeng Ran scattered, it was a common Mingse poison, originally developed by the Dan Ding Sect before somehow falling into the Senate’s hands. However, it was naturally ineffective against Yang Hao.
Though Shadow Moon had allowed Zeng Ran to escape, it still sliced through one of his subordinates’ necks with a graceful, elegant arc. Even though the blade appeared to move slowly, it possessed an almost magical allure, making it impossible to evade and even tempting one to offer their neck willingly.
Another Gray Robe assassin fell without a sound, his blood spurting over a meter high, his body standing still without collapsing.
Yang Hao continued forward. Though the kills were effortless, he couldn’t help but admire the strength of the Mingse Assassination Corps. He had previously fought against several martial arts groups, including the formidable King Swordsmen and the Bear Clan, both of whom had fallen to him. Yet, the Mingse Corps was far superior, perhaps even stronger than both combined.
The strength of a sword group wasn’t just about individual combat power but also discipline and coordination. Despite the sudden attack and the rapid elimination of the outer sentries, Zeng Ran remained calm, choosing to abandon a few subordinates to retreat and report to the main camp. This level of composure was extraordinary.
Upon receiving the report, the assassins in the main camp rushed out almost instantly, fully armed and ready for battle at all times.
Yang Hao couldn’t help but admire this formidable force, thinking that if he could command such a group, he wouldn’t fear the Ten Sword Streams.
However, thoughts aside, danger loomed ahead.
Zeng Ran, having regrouped his forces, turned back with renewed confidence. His confidence stemmed from his familiarity with his own strength. This time, Mingse had deployed one hundred Gray Robe assassins, forty Black Robe assassins, and even ten of the strongest Purple Robe experts. It was a formidable force. Whether it was a single person or an entire sword group, they would be eliminated.
“Are you Yang Hao?” Zeng Ran, surprisingly well-informed, asked, “The newly enfeoffed Lord Yang Hao?”
“That’s me,” Yang Hao smiled, pointing at himself, though the Shadow Moon blade had already vanished into the wind.
Zeng Ran’s heart tightened. He had heard of Yang Hao before. A few days ago, the squad leader had led ten Black Robe assassins to eliminate him, only to be defeated without even landing a single strike. Moreover, Yang Hao’s peculiar-looking weapon faintly exuded the aura of a divine artifact. Such a weapon, capable of enabling invisibility, was the lifelong aspiration of every assassin.
Zeng Ran saluted Yang Hao, a special gesture reserved for top hundred martial artists:
“Lord, since you are an imperial noble, why do you oppose Mingse?”
“Hmm…” Yang Hao coughed lightly, finding it difficult to answer. He couldn’t exactly tell them he was here to retrieve his child’s mother and steal the sect’s treasure sword. His mind raced, quickly shifting the blame:
It’s like this. Your regiment commander, Ling Ziyun, stole something important from me, so I came to take it back.
Zeng Ran felt bitter inside. He naturally didn’t believe Yang Hao’s nonsense. Four Gray Robe assassins were already dead before meeting him, clearly indicating an attack with no real reason.
“In the past decade, others have only avoided Mingse. No one has dared to come here to die,” Zeng Ran’s face darkened as he raised his sword, pointing over a hundred blades at Yang Hao. “Lord, you should reconsider.”
Reconsider? Yang Hao didn’t hesitate. He moved like a shadow, swiftly charging into the Mingse assassins’ formation, completely shattering their carefully arranged sword array. The Shadow Moon blade, hidden in the wind, moved even faster. Its dark, golden-lit blade gracefully sliced through, and three Gray Robe assassins’ heads had already fallen to the ground.
By the time Yang Hao kicked through the sword formation and returned to his original position, the Shadow Moon blade had already killed five people and vanished once more into the silent, frigid wind.
This series of actions was fluid and swift, breaking the sword array and taking lives with a single motion, exuding the demeanor of a sword master.
Zeng Ran’s anger flared. He had never seen anyone dare to offend the Mingse Assassination Corps like this. A killer’s honor was to take lives, not to be cut down.
However, when Zeng Ran turned back, he noticed that the commander’s main tent still showed no reaction, causing him to worry inwardly. He knew that as long as the top ten Purple Robe experts appeared, Yang Hao would surely die, but they seemed unaffected by the alarm.
“Kill!” Zeng Ran made a firm decision. With the团长 (group leader) and the top ten experts absent, he was the highest-ranking commander present.
With Zeng Ran’s command, four black mists exploded around Yang Hao, two Black Robe and two Gray Robe assassins appearing simultaneously, rushing toward Yang Hao from four directions.
These four directions were chosen perfectly, sealing off Yang Hao’s escape routes from front, back, left, and right, leaving him nowhere to hide but to die by their swords.
But Yang Hao was no longer someone who could be easily cornered. He recalled the Shadow Moon blade. With a single “Yu” incantation, four sparks exploded around him, halting the four assassins’ attacks. Their swords were already cut into pieces by the Shadow Moon blade, rendering them incapable of further assault.
Yang Hao sneered coldly. The Shadow Moon blade executed another graceful turn, like a fish leaping into the sea, cleaving two Black Robe assassins in half. Meanwhile, Yang Hao drew his Treasure Sword and Gravity Sword from behind, piercing the hearts of the Gray Robe assassins.
With one move, just one move, Yang Hao had broken the first variation of the Mingse Three Kill Theory.
This left Zeng Ran shaken.
The Mingse Three Kill Theory was unknown to outsiders because, in the history of the Mingse Assassination Corps, it was rarely needed. Most of the time, Mingse assassins operated alone, carrying out assassinations in the shadows, and whether successful or not, they would quickly retreat.
This Mingse Three Kill Theory was specially created by the elders ten years ago to cultivate the assassination group. It emphasized the coordination between Mingse members, combining each person’s strength to develop assassination techniques into a form of open and group killing.
It was precisely this Three Kill Theory that allowed Mingse not only to be an assassination group but also to become a renowned force within the Ten Sword Streams. They possessed both assassination skills and the capability for open combat.
Faced with Yang Hao, a top hundred martial artist, Zeng Ran naturally knew that individual strength alone couldn’t defeat him, especially since he had even bested the First Wanderer Swordsman. Therefore, only the Mingse Three Kill Theory could offer a chance.
Even if Yang Hao had broken the first move with one strike, it wasn’t a big deal.
“Kill! Kill!!” Zeng Ran shouted again, “Release the Qingju swords!”
Yang Hao looked on as a surge of Qingju energy rapidly rose from the Mingse formation, creating a chilling, world-encompassing coldness that seemed to envelop everything.
Qingju energy was a vital energy that all Mingse members must cultivate. Under the Empire’s strict policies, only sword groups directly under the Senate could practice this near-immortal cultivation method. When Qingju energy was infused into a sword, it could be launched like a flying sword, capable of cutting off heads from kilometers away.
If there were only one or two such flying swords, Yang Hao wouldn’t be worried. But if there were hundreds of flying swords targeting him simultaneously, it would be terrifying. These swords could be controlled by consciousness, attacking different parts with varying trajectories and force. Even if Yang Hao used the “Yu” incantation, it would be difficult to defend adequately.
However, this terrifying scene did not occur. After Zeng Ran’s shout, two Gray Robe assassins began to emit Qingju energy but suddenly erupted in a burst of fire from their dantian, engulfing them in flames like human torches.
Subsequently, several assassins behind Zeng Ran spontaneously combusted, the raging flames seemingly originating from within their bodies. Within moments, these assassins were burned beyond recognition.
Even Zeng Ran sensed something amiss. As he slightly released Qingju energy, he discovered a strange, evil fire in his dantian, rushing up his meridians like a flood, threatening to tear his meridians apart and surge into his limbs.
“Don’t use Qingju energy!” Zeng Ran shouted urgently. His face was flushed red as he struggled to suppress the evil fire within his dantian. “We’ve been poisoned!!”
“It’s not that serious,” Yang Hao lazily sheathed his two swords. “I just saw you all enjoying your meal, so I added a bit of spice for you.”
Yang Hao smiled happily on the surface, but he knew in his heart that the spice he added was far more than just a little. Earlier, he had used his Yuan Ying to infiltrate the Mingse main camp and added large amounts of Lie Rong Dan to their food.
Lie Rong Dan was an auxiliary pill Yang Hao had consumed for years after reaching the Yuan Ying stage. It was an upgraded version of the previous Huo Rong Dan. Under Yang Hao’s strong request, his master and apprentice had modified the Lie Rong Dan to some extent. While maintaining its effect of generating intense fire-type true energy, the Lie Rong Dan now had no smell or color, making it slightly spicy when added to food.
However, Lie Rong Dan was not just chili sauce. Its primary function was to ignite a fire in a person’s dantian. If placed in Yang Hao’s dantian, it would naturally enhance his true energy, making him feel comfortable and invigorated.
But now, added to the Mingse assassins’ dantian, it was completely different. The Qingju energy cultivated by Mingse was a yin and cold true energy. During cultivation, it often caused the body to form ice, making it a representative of ice-type true energy. The fire from the Lie Rong Dan burning in such icy conditions would naturally clash violently, ultimately resulting in the tearing of meridians and the uncontrolled spread of true fire throughout the body.
Therefore, if these Mingse assassins did not activate their Qingju energy, they would be fine. But once they did, they would only face a tragic fate.
However, Yang Hao was quite impressed by Zeng Ran’s calmness and adaptability. He mused that if he had the opportunity, he would really want to recruit this person into his own ranks.
Zeng Ran glared at Yang Hao but dared not use Qingju energy again: “Lord, I must say I’m truly impressed. To infiltrate the Mingse camp without being detected is no small feat.”
“Just a casual stroll,” Yang Hao still smiled, completely unfazed.
“But the dignity of Mingse cannot be insulted,” Zeng Ran’s eyes grew colder. “Therefore, Lord… please die. Kill! Kill! Kill!”
With a signal from Zeng Ran, the third variation of the Mingse Three Kill Theory, which had never failed and always resulted in bloodshed, was finally unleashed once more.
This variation was called “Catastrophe.”
When the elder who created the Three Kill Theory back then first devised it, he knew that once Mingse learned this sword formation, it would become a disaster. Because that “Catastrophe” was unstoppable by anyone. An assassination group already had extraordinary strength, and with the power of “Catastrophe,” even armies would be unable to resist.
Indeed, after the introduction of “Catastrophe,” Mingse’s role in the imperial army expanded beyond mere assassination to include decisive battles against other martial arts groups. Mingse once challenged three martial arts groups at once, and that time, not a single Mingse member was lost, while the opposing side was completely annihilated.
To Mingse, “Catastrophe” was a disaster, more ferocious than a mountain flood and hotter than lava. In its presence, human lives were like dust.
Yang Hao thought Mingse relied solely on Qingju energy, which was a grave mistake. Indeed, underestimating the enemy was the best path to death.
After Zeng Ran gave the signal, Yang Hao was shocked to see that the over a hundred Mingse assassins in front of him suddenly turned into black smoke and vanished. This disappearance felt strange. Yang Hao’s spiritual sense told him that they hadn’t fled but had hidden and concealed themselves. Even more terrifying was that Yang Hao felt a rapid increase in the cold winds around him, from over a hundred to thousands.
The number of Mingse assassins certainly hadn’t increased tenfold. This was obviously their illusion technique, designed to confuse Yang Hao about their hiding directions.
Now, in the air, within that cold and silent space, a hundred swords were quietly approaching Yang Hao’s body. Yang Hao might be able to kill most of them with the Shadow Moon, but if even one sword struck, Yang Hao would be defeated—dead.
This was the essence of “Catastrophe.” Whether facing an entire sword group or battling a grand swordsman, “Catastrophe” could maintain consistent lethality. No one knew the changes of this sword formation; those who had experienced it were already dead. Everyone knew the consequence of encountering this formation.
It was death.
A chill ran down Yang Hao’s spine. He realized he had truly underestimated the enemy. Perhaps it was because he held a divine artifact, or perhaps it was because he had just reached the grand swordsman level, making him a bit too self-satisfied.
But “Catastrophe” made him realize clearly: no matter how strong one’s power was, one could not stand against a powerful team. To win and survive, one must possess even greater strength.
“Apprentice!!” Hun Yuan Zi’s sharp shout awakened Yang Hao from his meditation. He remembered he was still in danger. The cold wind and killing intent around him were like sharks slowly circling him.
Yang Hao didn’t know which shark was an illusion and which one had truly opened its bloodthirsty maw.
So he closed his eyes, and a faintly glowing,淡蓝色 pill, resembling a core of ice, flew into his mouth.
Icefall Frost Pill! A legendary sword pill from the Dan Ding Sect that had been dormant for a thousand years!
As the pill, as cold as the seabed’s ice, dissolved within him, Yang Hao’s entire body underwent an incredible transformation. A淡蓝色 light radiated from his skin, and his blood and muscles seemed to freeze; even his hair and eyelashes were adorned with white frost.
Yang Hao extended one hand forward, and a blue sphere of light rotated and shimmered in his palm, emitting waves of extremely cold power.
And in the sky, heavy snow began to fall. On this comet source, clouds were virtually impossible, yet these snowflakes originated from Yang Hao himself. Yang Hao had become the god of ice and snow on this comet.
The approaching force of the “Catastrophe” finally could no longer be restrained. The countless Mingse assassins, hidden in the space, burst forth with darkly glowing swords, all aiming at Yang Hao in the center. In their expectations, Yang Hao could neither escape nor block. At best, he might take out half of the assassins with him, but he would still meet his end.
But Yang Hao exploded.
His body didn’t explode, but his power, the glowing sphere in his palm, and his Shadow Moon blade erupted in a dazzling blue-white aura.
It was like a monumental snow explosion, with millennia of accumulated snow cascading down in an instant. An unimaginable force filled every inch of space with the power of ice.
In the sky, countless ice crystals fell like snowflakes, covering an area of nearly hundreds of meters. Within this region, any living being was frozen, whether microorganisms or rocks, gas or solid, human or human blood—all became part of the ice crystals.
The Icefall Frost Sword was one of the most advanced sword techniques of the Dan Ding Dual Cultivation Sect. It required a simple activation, yet the power it unleashed could rival that of a true sword immortal. In ancient times, during the battle of the immortals, the Icefall Frost Sword had sealed away the three most powerful sword immortals.
Although Yang Hao, at the Yuan Ying stage, couldn’t unleash the full power of this sword technique, it was more than sufficient to deal with the current adversaries.
The over a hundred Mingse assassins hidden in the space were now all forced out of their concealment by the Icefall Frost Sword and frozen within massive ice blocks. No matter how powerful these individuals were or how high their battle strength, they couldn’t escape the power of this sword.
As Yang Hao slowly recovered from the sword intent, he looked at the icy, crystalline scene around him and couldn’t help but be secretly astonished. The power of the sword pill and the Icefall Frost Sword had far exceeded his expectations.
“Do you want to kill them?” Hun Yuan Zi was indifferent, even feeling that the sword Yang Hao had released was too weak, not even reaching half of his former glory.
Yang Hao lowered his head in thought: “No need. I’m about to go to Earth, and I don’t want to be chased by these assassins every day.”
“Fine,” Hun Yuan Zi smiled. “Besides, these people all cultivate Qingju energy. They can survive for several days frozen in ice.”
Yang Hao nodded, his gaze shifting to the distant, quiet commander’s main tent, which seemed completely unconcerned about the ongoing battle.
Was Ling Ziyun there? And were the top ten Purple Robe experts of the Mingse Assassination Corps there as well?
After the battle with Mingse, Yang Hao finally dared not be complacent and flew forward with extra caution.
But the main camp was empty. Not only was it empty, but it also seemed to have undergone a fierce battle. Except for the specially synthesized outer cover of the tent not being torn apart, everything inside the main camp was already in ruins.
Although it was referred to as the commander’s main tent, it was evident that Ling Ziyun did not actually reside here. Inside this large tent, there had originally been ten beds, which should have belonged to the ten Purple Robe experts. However, these ten simple beds had already been torn apart by sword energy. In a corner of the main tent, several boxes made of alloy had also been crushed. The entire place was in chaos, as if a level ten storm had swept through.
Seeing this scene, Yang Hao’s mind was filled with growing doubts. How could there be a fierce battle in the tent of Mingse’s highest commander? What exactly were these people doing here?
However, Ling Ziyun’s assertion that she was unable to command Mingse appeared to be substantiated. Otherwise, how could several Purple Robe experts dare to occupy the leader’s tent?
Just then, Yang Hao faintly sensed some movement in the distance.
This was again the result of his acute perception technique. Although he had progressed further along the path of immortality cultivation, the earliest learned acute perception technique continued to improve. Among the Galactic Empire’s several fundamental techniques, they appeared as weakened versions of ancient cultivation methods from the perspective of immortality cultivators, except for the acute perception technique, which was actually an innovation.
Now, as long as Yang Hao focused his mind, he could sense the presence of anyone or anything nearby.
It was a cliff, or rather, a terrifying precipice like a dragon’s cliff. The surrounding area was vertical and smooth star rock, like a mirror. At the top of the cliff, there were deep ravines, each one capable of causing a fall. More terrifyingly, those bottomless ravines might directly connect to outer space, throwing anyone who fell into the universe.
Ling Ziyun and the ten Purple Robe experts were standing on the top of this cliff.
When Yang Hao arrived, the eleven people were staring at him, as if surprised by this man’s arrival.
“What do you want?” Ling Ziyun stomped her foot, glaring fiercely.
This woman was wearing the standard Mingse assassin uniform today, which was also purple. Indeed, Ling Ziyun had entered the Purple Robe class within Mingse, though her method of killing was completely different from others.
Though it was the traditional assassin uniform, it looked different on Ling Ziyun. Her delicate, fair skin was accentuated by the dark outer garment, making her even more dazzling.
Her face no longer carried its usual seductive charm; her eyebrows resembled ink-dyed willows, and her eyes held profound sorrow. In Ling Ziyun’s hand was a large sword, its hilt shaped like a cross, with bluish-steel patterns on its shell. Judging from Ling Ziyun’s strained appearance, the sword must have been extremely heavy.
“I came for you,” Yang Hao didn’t look at the other ten people. “Ms. Thousand Faces, where are you taking my child?”
This sentence not only made Ling Ziyun’s face pale but also caused the ten assassins to tremble slightly, their breath momentarily disrupted.
“You don’t understand, you don’t understand!” Ling Ziyun bit her lip, her expression turning resolute. “Yang Hao, you must leave now!”
Suddenly, Yang Hao felt an uncomfortable sensation behind him. It was like death—a deathly aura condensing among the ten assassins.
“And you?” Yang Hao ignored the danger behind him, focusing on the woman in front.
Ling Ziyun’s eyes suddenly showed fear—not directed at Yang Hao, but at the people behind him.
“If you don’t leave now, we’ll all die!” Ling Ziyun roared, forcefully throwing her long sword toward Yang Hao. “Hurry up!!”
Yang Hao caught the sword. It felt as heavy as a block of steel. The sword’s exterior had no special luster, but on the seemingly ordinary hilt was a pure white gemstone. The power contained within this gemstone was so profound that even Yang Hao couldn’t fathom it.
“What is this?”
“The Sword of Judgment!” Ling Ziyun saw the ten figures behind Yang Hao condensing an overwhelming aura of death, causing her face to fill with despair. “This is one of the Ten Divine Weapons from the Ten Sword Streams, protected by the Mingse Assassination Corps.”
A sudden tremor surged through Yang Hao’s heart. He suddenly realized how grave his mistake had been.
When Ling Ziyun left without a word from the Three Crystal Seas, others believed she had betrayed again. Because of her identity as the spy “Ms. Thousand Faces,” they all thought she had never been sincere with Yang Hao, only harboring ulterior motives.
Even Yang Hao had such thoughts.
But they were all wrong. Ling Ziyun’s return to the Mingse base this time had only one mission, a mission she planned to complete at the cost of her life.
“Did you come back to help me steal the Sword of Judgment?” Yang Hao was stunned.
Ling Ziyun’s eyes grew sadder. She looked at her hands, soft and delicate, though they had ended many lives, they remained pure.
“It’s useless anyway, so I stole it for you to play with,” Ling Ziyun smiled bitterly. “Yang Hao, you should leave now and become your lord.”
At this moment, even Yang Hao felt something was wrong. He turned around sharply and indeed saw something unusual. The ten Purple Robe experts, who had been standing like mountains before, had changed. Each of them emitted a pure black aura, like devilish souls—terrifying, dark, and full of power.
Each of these people had a battle power of level 24 or above, already top-tier experts among ordinary swordsmen. Moreover, they were Mingse, the most terrifying dark assassins in the universe, the fruits of the Senate’s ten-year cultivation.
Though they stood scattered, they gave the impression of being a single entity, their dark auras merging seamlessly.
Even their speech was synchronized: “Ling Ziyun, you have betrayed the Senate and Mingse. Even if your master, Elder Yuan, were here, he couldn’t save you.”
“When has Mingse ever regarded me as团长?” Ling Ziyun, though shaken, retorted sharply. “You’ve wanted me dead for a long time. Aren’t you afraid the emperor will investigate?”
“Emperor?” The ten experts sneered. “Even the emperor listens to the Senate.”
“Dare you!”
“Die!”
These few words were spoken quickly, with complex implications. Before Yang Hao could fully understand, the ten experts moved again. They solidified together.
Previously, the ten individuals’ auras had only merged, but when they spoke the words “die,” their dark auras condensed, becoming like a thick liquid, clearly flowing in the air.
The ten of them together chanted in a strange tone, dragging out the words: “Final Judgment!”
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