Chapter 284

Chapter 284: Killing Fang He

A green thunder pattern erupted and slammed into the descending blade.

It was severed.

But the strike weakened.

In that heartbeat, Wang Jie pointed with one finger—Myriad-Stars Finger Art folded into the motion—and struck the blade’s edge. The blade cracked with a sharp, ugly sound.

Fang He gritted his teeth and poured Starforce into it anyway.

With a bang, his blade shattered completely. The fragments shot outward in controlled arcs, forming a dense net of spinning steel.

Rakshasa Dance.

Wang Jie stepped into the storm with Jia Eight Steps. The tighter the net, the more inescapable it was supposed to become.

But to Wang Jie, it wasn’t airtight.

He held his sword reversed and lowered it slowly. Sword qi pierced the void, sending ripples outward—and riding those ripples came Tempered Sword-Thread, fanning through the gaps like needles.

Under the rain curtain, sword qi flicked and guided the threads, slipping them through the blade net toward Fang He.

Fang He’s eyes narrowed. He’d intended to trap Wang Jie—yet a strange sensation crawled over him, as if he were the one being penned in.

The net was still there. So why did it feel this way?

Wang Jie looked up and met his eyes, a faint smile cutting through the exhaustion. He raised his left arm, clenched his fist, and burst forward—his wristguard sweeping through the blade net with brutal force.

Fragments were flung aside.

In the same instant, Tempered Sword-Thread closed around Fang He.

Fang He didn’t have a wristguard, but a Six-Path Roamer was never without hidden resources. He pulled out a Chen Artifact and blocked the threads completely.

Wang Jie wasn’t surprised.

He lunged the moment Fang He defended—no flourish, no wasted movement—a plain punch thrown like a hammer.

Fang He’s pupils shrank. Under his feet, Invisible Blade Light exploded outward, forming hanging spikes of killing intent.

Wang Jie halted sharply. Something about it screamed danger.

Fang He’s voice came out low and furious. “I didn’t expect a Full-Star Realm cultivator like you to force me to use Great Domain Scripture.”

His arms spread wide. Blade light surged beneath him and crawled outward, sweeping past Wang Jie and swallowing the surrounding void.

“In Black-White Heaven,” Fang He snarled, “your strength is already second only to a Six-Path Roamer. But I won’t give you another chance.”

Wang Jie scanned the field. This was the true foundation of a Six-Path Roamer.

Great Domain Scripture.

Fang He snapped his arms inward.

The blade light overhead collapsed like a falling sky, forming a second net—flawless, suffocating, leaving nowhere to run.

Wang Jie’s wristguard could withstand the strikes. His body couldn’t withstand the impact forever.

He drew a breath, then opened his storage ring.

Swords poured out.

One after another, they floated in the air like a storm of steel. Lockforce surged from his body into every blade.

Fang He had blade light.

Wang Jie had swords.

Let them bleed each other dry.

Fang He sneered at the sight. He didn’t understand where Wang Jie had gotten so many swords—and their quality was high, sixth-grade material. But sixth-grade swords couldn’t withstand his blade light for long. Without Lockforce reinforcing them, they would snap in a single collision.

And Lockforce, no matter how deep, had limits.

Does he really think he can outlast me?

Wang Jie stared back, expression cold. Lockforce flooded into sword after sword, each blade chopping into the falling light.

Every strand of blade light carried enough power to kill a Roaming-Star Realm expert. Sixth-grade swords shattered quickly—each lasted only a few collisions before cracking apart.

But Fang He’s blade light wasn’t infinite either. It was his Starforce made manifest.

The two of them locked eyes across the storm, each convinced the other would break first.

In the distance, cultivators turned to look. Shock rippled through them. A Full-Star Realm cultivator was matching a Six-Path Roamer in a battle of attrition.

Hou Xiao saw it too, teeth clenched. Wang Jie had been hiding something. How else could he control so many swords? Yi Sword Art had to be more than Rain Sword Art.

And the sheer number of swords stored away—this was preparation, not coincidence.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Wang Jie stood on an asteroid, but the rock had been carved away by stray impacts until only a small patch remained beneath his feet. He didn’t care. If it broke entirely, the Void Splint could hold him in open space.

What he did care about was the swords.

He had fought hard to gather those sixth-grade blades. Now they were shattering into fragments and dust.

In theory, shattered swords could be reforged. In practice, in the middle of this kind of storm, who was going to retrieve the fragments?

Fang He’s face turned ugly. Wang Jie had burned through hundreds of swords by now, and yet his Lockforce still held.

It didn’t make sense. Wang Jie should have collapsed already. He was spending far more than Fang He was.

What Fang He didn’t know was simple.

Wang Jie had the Bodyfall Pill.

When Lockforce ran thin, he drew more—because his body held an absurd reserve, beyond what Fang He could anticipate.

Fang He swallowed pill after pill, trying to force more Starforce out of himself, but the manifested blade mountain blurred. The blade light thinned.

Then Wang Jie’s last sixth-grade sword shattered.

Wang Jie’s heart clenched. Next came fifth-grade swords—those could only block once, maybe twice.

He opened his storage ring again.

More swords surged out in a fresh wave.

Fang He’s face went pale.

Still more?

Where did he get them?

Where did he get that much Lockforce?

This wasn’t improvisation. This was a trap.

Fang He felt his Starforce running dry. He couldn’t keep trading like this. If his Starforce emptied out completely, he’d be helpless.

He snapped his hand, and the blade light surged violently—so violently that Wang Jie’s heart jumped, thinking Fang He had been holding back.

But Fang He turned and ran.

He swallowed a Swiftstep Pill mid-flight and fled.

Wang Jie exhaled hard. He had won the attrition.

Now he couldn’t let Fang He escape.

He activated the Void Splint.

The Void Splint moved at a speed comparable to the Hundred-Star Realm. Fang He had no chance.

Wang Jie flashed into Fang He’s path.

Fang He’s eyes widened at the familiar Chen Artifact.

“Senior Brother Fang,” Wang Jie said calmly, “since you’re here, don’t leave.”

He punched.

The force shattered the void in rippling cracks and slammed into Fang He.

Fang He blocked—but his Starforce was nearly exhausted. His blade arts had lost their bite. The punch sent him flying, blood spraying from his mouth.

Wang Jie pursued with sword steps, relentless. He didn’t even need Lockforce now—his physical strength alone was enough.

Fang He tried to flee, but Wang Jie struck again, smashing him sideways. Fang He’s face was white with shock and fury.

“Wang Jie,” he snarled, “you dare kill me?”

Wang Jie didn’t answer. He hit harder.

Fang He was still a Six-Path Roamer. Even wounded and drained, he wasn’t easy to finish. He swallowed pills, tore out tools, and struggled toward denser battle lines—toward people.

And as he limped and bled, his rage sharpened into a final threat.

“I’m a traitor,” Fang He gasped, “and you’re a traitor too. If you kill me, Fengmen won’t let it go. Black-White Heaven will know. I’ll tell everyone!”

Wang Jie narrowed his eyes and kept coming.

This was Shu Rang’s test.

Strength was one part of it.

Resolve was the other.

Fang He staggered onward, injuries piling up. One leg snapped. Sword wounds raked his body in ugly lines. At last, he saw Black-White Heaven cultivators ahead—and farther still, Ancient Sword Bridge-Pillar forces.

He twisted back, eyes feral. “Last chance. Stop, or I’ll expose your identity as a traitor to everyone!”

Wang Jie clenched his fist.

At this point, there was no stopping. And Shu Rang’s command still rang in his ears.

Kill.

Fang He sucked in air, then roared with all his remaining strength, voice carrying into the void.

“Black-White Heaven—Wang Jie is Fengmen’s mole—”

Wang Jie froze for a fraction of a heartbeat, face darkening.

Then he realized something.

No one reacted.

At this distance, Fang He’s voice should have carried. The only explanation was that something had sealed the space.

Fang He realized it too. Panic flashed across his face as he glanced around wildly.

How?

He hadn’t sensed anyone acting. Even a Hundred-Star Realm intervention should have left a trace.

Wang Jie exhaled and spoke for the first time since the chase began.

“Farewell.”

He thrust.

Fang He recoiled and tried to dodge. He avoided the tip—but he couldn’t avoid sword steps.

Sword steps pierced through him.

Fang He’s body stiffened, eyes wide, then went slack as life left him.

Fang He—one of the Six-Path Roamers—died.

Wang Jie landed on the Void Splint and stared at Fang He’s eyes, still open, still unwilling to close. He let out a long, exhausted breath.

He had finally killed a Six-Path Roamer.

Back when he’d first entered Black-White Heaven, Six-Path Roamers had been the absolute ceiling in his mind—figures like Han Ling could fling him away with a casual move. If Mo Wan Yin hadn’t intervened, he would have died on Star-Devourer.

Now he had overcome one.

And still… he knew this wasn’t the summit. In the broader universe, Six-Path Roamers might not even be near the top tiers of the Roaming-Star Realm.

He was only at the beginning.

“How does it feel?” Shu Rang asked, his voice appearing at Wang Jie’s side.

Wang Jie turned and bowed. “Thank you, Mentor, for sealing his voice.”

Shu Rang waved it off. “In the eyes of Star Dao masters, there is no Bridge-Pillar division—only the arrangement of stars. Whether you belong to Black-White Heaven or Fengmen doesn’t matter.”

He looked intrigued. “What I am curious about is how you broke free of Fengmen’s control.”

Wang Jie hesitated. “Mentor already knew I broke free?”

“If you hadn’t,” Shu Rang said, “you wouldn’t have risked your life to deliver that message. And I can see no trace of control within you.”

Wang Jie didn’t hide it. He explained Zhong Yi’s situation and how Masked Man had taught him Tempered Sword-Thread—how he’d driven it into his body to expel the control.

Shu Rang nodded slowly. “So that’s why. I wondered where you learned such a strange sword art. Sword threads, hm? Driving it into the body to purge control… interesting.”

“And that Zhong Yi is even more interesting.”

He leaned back slightly. “When I came to Black-White Heaven, she was already gone. It’s said that before she left, she heavily wounded the Zhi Family—so badly their succession nearly broke, and Black-White Heaven almost changed hands.”

“She’s someone.”

Then Shu Rang’s gaze lifted, sharp and sudden. “A World Realm powerhouse has shown himself.”

Wang Jie looked into the starry sky and saw nothing.

Shu Rang placed a hand on Wang Jie’s shoulder. “Don’t move. Feel it. The power of the world.”

Something strange swept through Wang Jie—like being peeled away from the universe and placed into another one. Two universes at once: contradictory, unmistakable. For an instant, he wanted to reach out and tear through the thin separation.

Then it ended as abruptly as it began.

Because Shu Rang acted.

He didn’t join the war directly. He simply reached out across distance and dragged Star-Devourer back from the Cloudstream Region.

That single movement drew a startled voice from the vault of space.

“A Star Dao master? Beidou’s… you paid a heavy price for this.”

No one answered.

And with that startled cry echoing into the void, the war ended.