Chapter 95: Slaying the Saint
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
The night fog swirled, dense and foreboding, as Qin Ming plummeted through the air, his expression frozen in disbelief. He never imagined he would “fall from the bird.” His confident grin vanished, replaced by a rigid mask of alarm.
Below him, the Golden Armor Protector stood on the yellow sand ground, his wide grin baring perfect white teeth. It seemed all the laughter Qin Ming had lost had transferred to the armored warrior. His smile grew brighter, sharper.
“Ha-ha-ha…” The Protector’s laugh echoed as he hoisted a massive sword over his shoulder. With a powerful step, he crushed the sand beneath his boots, his body radiating the brilliance of Unified Celestial Light Force. He shot forward like a blazing meteor, carrying the force to shatter mountains.
His intent was unmistakable: to cleave the young man in two with a single strike. Before even engaging, he’d already envisioned Qin Ming losing an arm.
The Golden Armor Protector leapt into the air, his armor clinking as golden light radiated from him. He resembled a blazing sun, burning away the suffocating night fog. His great sword sliced through the darkness like a bolt of lightning.
With a sickening sound, a Black Ferocious Bird burst apart in midair, shredded by the celestial light. Blood and feathers scattered like macabre rain.
But Qin Ming had already launched himself from the bird’s back. His robe unfurled like bat wings—a technique mimicking Ge Qian Xun. Though close to the ground, he managed a controlled glide. His speed left the Outer Saint below stunned, forcing the armored man to redouble his pursuit.
With a crash, Qin Ming hit the soft yellow sand, creating a deep crater. Dust billowed into the air, but his Unified Celestial Light Force protected him, leaving him unscathed.
“Keep running!” The Golden Armor Protector appeared, his face ice-cold. His right arm was little more than a mangled stump after being smashed by the Black Metal Hammer. The fragments of bone and flesh were beyond repair, and his hatred for the young man burned hotter than ever.
Qin Ming’s expression was grim. Standing alone against an Outer Saint, he couldn’t deny his nerves. For any other Awakening Stage Cultivator, despair would have been inevitable. How could one possibly fight back?
The Protector held his massive sword in his left hand, advancing with a menacing aura. Despite his youth—he appeared no older than his twenties—his sharp features and fierce eyes exuded deadly intent.
With a sudden stomp, the Golden Armor Protector unleashed his power, sending a storm of sand into the air. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance and brought his sword crashing down.
Qin Ming dodged swiftly, refusing to meet the strike head-on.
The Protector’s blade struck empty air. Pivoting smoothly, he swung his leg in a sweeping kick, aiming to crush the young man. Such force could have sent an elephant flying, its body torn apart.
Scrambling to respond, Qin Ming raised his sheathed sword to block the glowing leg. It was a desperate move, leaving the sheath still attached.
The Golden Armor Protector sneered coldly. Was this boy truly such a novice?
But then a shiver ran down his spine as realization struck. This wasn’t just any boy. This was the one who had killed the Veiled Woman and cost him his right arm.
As an Outer Saint, his reflexes were unparalleled. Even mid-swing, he managed to retract his leg and bring his golden sword around in a horizontal slash.
Qin Ming’s sheath shattered, revealing the gleaming White Jade Alloy Blade. Sparks flew as blade met sword, the sound sharp and piercing.
The Golden Armor Protector staggered back, cold sweat drenching his body. If he hadn’t pulled his leg back in time, this encounter might have ended in disaster.
Qin Ming sighed inwardly, just a hair away from severing the man’s leg. Victory had slipped through his fingers in an instant.
The earlier Sky-Supporting Force strike had left a psychological scar on the Protector, making him overly cautious.
Qin Ming’s arms trembled from the clash, his hands numb, blood churning violently in his veins. He now understood the sheer might of brute force and how it could overpower even the most skilled techniques.
The Protector glanced at the notch in his sword, his face darkening. This boy was far more dangerous than he appeared.
Their eyes met, neither uttering a word. There was no need for conversation—both sought the other’s death.
The wind howled as night fog surged like floodwaters. Sand was swept into the air, swirling violently around them.
Qin Ming lunged first. The clash rang out as he was knocked back several meters, nearly losing his balance. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth, and his hands throbbed with pain.
The Protector advanced, his expression icy, but a new chip in his sword only deepened his frustration. He still hadn’t managed to disarm the boy or destroy his White Jade Alloy Blade.
Adjusting his grip, Qin Ming flexed his wrist. The gap between them wasn’t as vast as he’d feared. Perhaps this Outer Saint had only recently stepped into the realm.
“You awakened seven times before breaking through, didn’t you?” Qin Ming asked, holding his blade steady.
The Protector’s eyes narrowed, his gaze colder than frost. Was the boy mocking him?
With a roar, he launched himself forward, slashing repeatedly.
Qin Ming wasn’t taunting him—he was testing the difference in strength between them.
The rapid exchange left Qin Ming staggered but not defeated. Blood dripped from his fingers, yet his grip on the blade remained firm. He had found confidence. The Protector’s strength, though formidable, wasn’t insurmountable.
With renewed vigor, Qin Ming pressed the attack. His blade danced with precision, radiating the aura of a Youth Master.
The Golden Armor Protector was shaken. Despite his mastery of the sword, he found himself outmatched by the boy’s flawless technique.
As they clashed, the desert transformed. Sand churned under Qin Ming’s movements, rising like waves in a storm. The ground seemed to come alive, responding to the boy’s blade intent.
The battle escalated, the desert becoming an ocean of fury as Qin Ming’s power surged to its peak.
In the midst of the barren desert, shrouded in swirling night fog, the golden-armored man roared as he unleashed his celestial light force to its absolute limit. His goal was clear—to break the peculiar rhythm of his young opponent. The sudden surge of energy sent Qin Ming staggering backward, nearly coughing up blood from the shock.
But the golden-armored man was not unscathed. Every time he fully unleashed his celestial light force, his severed arm began to bleed uncontrollably. Pain was the price of his power.
Qin Ming stumbled several steps away, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet his face lit up with a bold, almost defiant smile. “You’re not as strong as I imagined,” he said.
The golden-armored man felt a sting of insult. To be belittled by a mere youth at the awakening stage was unthinkable. Anger flared within him as his celestial light force surged again, this time enveloping his entire body. He swung his massive sword with fury, aiming to strike down the boy—not just with the blade, but with his own physical strength in a direct clash.
A deafening crash followed. Sandstorm winds roared, night fog boiled, and rocks scattered as their life-and-death battle escalated. Both fighters were entirely consumed by the struggle.
Qin Ming was thrown six or seven meters away. Blood spurted from his mouth, and his hands convulsed in pain, the tender flesh between his fingers torn apart. His left hand swelled, darkened by pooling blood, while sharp pangs shot up his right leg.
The clash wasn’t just a contest of weapons; their bodies had collided too. For a moment, Qin Ming thought he might die. The golden-armored man’s celestial light threatened to tear him apart. But in that desperate moment, Qin Ming steeled himself with a resolve to go down fighting. Around him, the unified celestial light force he had mastered flowed like an unyielding shield. He braced for impact—and astonishingly, he endured.
The golden-armored man was stunned. His celestial light, capable of extending half a foot from his body, should have shredded Qin Ming’s flesh. Yet the boy’s own celestial light had held firm, neutralizing the attack. His feet ached from the collision, the force he prided himself on failing to dominate.
“Have you studied fragments of the Sky-Supporting Force? Or perhaps even a trace of the Tathagata Force?” he muttered, his voice trembling with shock and a glimmer of hope. This youth, barely past the awakening stage, had withstood the celestial light of an Outer Saint. It was beyond belief.
But hope gave way to pain. He groaned, retracting his celestial light quickly, and pressed on the stump of his arm to staunch the bleeding.
Qin Ming coughed up blood but managed to rise, his body trembling. Through it all, he laughed. “The celestial light force of an Outer Saint isn’t as terrifying as I imagined. I can handle it!”
His words carried a fierce, unrelenting confidence, his spirit blazing despite the toll.
“Are you mocking me?” the golden-armored man growled, his voice cold as winter steel. His sword-hand trembled, not from fear, but from the insult of facing such insolence from a boy.
“Did I say anything wrong?” Qin Ming retorted. “It seems that breaking into the Outer Saint Domain with a single dose of great medicine doesn’t enhance physical strength or celestial light nearly as much as I thought. Hm, I’ve already killed seven or eight Golden Thieves who managed it.”
To Qin Ming, this golden-armored man was just another practitioner who had consumed an extra dose of great medicine, barely capable of extending celestial light outward.
“Outer Saint,” he bellowed, “come! Let’s fight to the death!”
The golden-armored man seethed. He no longer viewed Qin Ming as merely a boy in the awakening stage, nor even as human. This youth’s mysterious, terrifying celestial light force, combined with his mastery of the Blade Path, marked him as a monstrous foe.
“Kill!” the golden-armored man roared, and their battle raged on.
Qin Ming ignored the blood dripping from his torn hands. Wielding his blade with unparalleled precision and ferocity, he pressed the attack, his strikes infused with an awe-inspiring blade intent. Whenever possible, he also clashed directly with his opponent, relying on his celestial light force.
“That’s earth vein essence?” the golden-armored man gasped. Qin Ming’s palm carried traces of this rare power, a force supposedly attainable only by Outer Saints. The realization unnerved him—he hadn’t even attempted to harness it yet.
Qin Ming’s Yellow Mud Palm struck with relentless force, leaving the golden-armored man reeling. Blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. While Qin Ming’s full-powered celestial light attacks were his most devastating, they consumed too much energy. By switching to the Yellow Mud Palm, he conserved strength while delivering punishing blows. The mystical stone he had absorbed enhanced the technique’s potency, making it a formidable weapon.
Whenever the golden-armored man prepared to risk everything, Qin Ming countered with unified celestial light force, matching his opponent’s ferocity. He could even predict when the man would go all out—each attempt caused the stump of his arm to bleed profusely.
For the first time, the golden-armored man felt utterly frustrated. An awakening-stage youth had pushed him to his limits, a humiliation he couldn’t bear. By all rights, his celestial light and sword should have obliterated the boy. Yet here he was, battered and unable to land a decisive blow.
The golden-armored man’s face turned pale. He had bled too much in their grueling exchanges. The boy, though clearly on the brink of collapse, seemed to gain momentum.
“He really might have fragments of the Tathagata or Sky-Supporting Force,” the golden-armored man thought, despair creeping in. “He’s dragging this out, and I’m losing strength.”
With a metallic clang, his great sword broke in two, no match for Qin Ming’s white jade alloy blade, which shimmered with celestial energy.
“No…” Panic set in. For the first time in his life, the golden-armored man—a seasoned Outer Saint—felt fear.
“Kill!” Qin Ming shouted, blood dripping from his mouth as he charged again, his celestial light blazing with unrelenting determination.
Moments later, Qin Ming’s blade severed the man’s left arm.
A piercing scream echoed across the desert. The golden-armored man couldn’t believe it—he, the supposed superior, was the one falling. But even as victory loomed, Qin Ming was barely holding on. His body screamed in agony from the relentless exertion.
With a final, decisive strike, Qin Ming’s blade sliced through the man’s neck. The golden-armored man’s head fell, his body crumpling to the ground. Qin Ming, utterly drained, collapsed onto the yellow sand.
Despite the pain wracking his body, Qin Ming smiled. He had done the impossible—he had slain an Outer Saint.