Legend of the Great Saint

Chapter 52



The Dragon Gate Sect was arrogant and overbearing, but Li Qingshan was ten times more arrogant and overbearing than the Dragon Gate Sect in the eyes of this crowd. In the space of a sentence, he’d decided the fate of two great influences of the martial world long entrenched in Suncheer.


There wasn’t the slightest expression of anger on Yang Anzhi’s face. He’d restored the cool-headed rationality required of a swordsman. He could instinctively judge that Li Qingshan was a powerful enemy rarely seen in all of his life.


But he also had absolute confidence in himself. His agile and graceful movement technique was the most suited to restrain Li Qingshan’s enduring martial ability, just as Li Qingshan restrained Liu Hong’s iron fist. No matter how great your strength, it was all a waste of your power if you couldn’t hit the enemy. Li Qingshan could block swords from ordinary Dragon Gate disciples, but he couldn’t block the sword of a grand second-grade master.


Li Qingshan likewise understood this point very clearly. And the main thing he was keenly aware of was that the sword Yang Anzhi wore wasn’t the same as the fine steel longswords worn by ordinary disciples. But even escape was impossible when one faced this kind of opponent. There was only standing tall and facing them straight on.


The two men stood opposite each other. The upstairs of the restaurant suddenly quieted down, the murderous atmosphere pressing down on everyone until they couldn’t even breathe.


“Qiang!”


Yang Anzhi pulled his sword out from the sheathe. The eerie cold glint of the sword engulfed Li Qingshan.


Li Qingshan’s pupils shrank. There was a faint layer of spiritual light shrouding the sword blade, just like the small knife he obtained today.


Men had fame, and swords also had fame. This was a famed sword no one inside Suncheer City was unaware of.


Soaring Dragon Sword, a treasured sword of the Dragon Gate Sect passed down for many generations that only the suzerain was qualified to wear. If men with fame were strong, then swords with fame were sharp! Even an ordinary person could shave iron as if it were butter with this sword in hand. In the hands of a genuine swordsman, it was a true tool for murder.


“This is a spiritual weapon!” The green bull had said this when he saw the small knife in Li Qingshan’s hand, going back in time before the banquet.


“What’s a spiritual weapon?” Li Qingshan fiddled with the small knife in his left hand: “Did I really pick up a treasure?” He’d often seen it written like this inside novels in his previous world. Just randomly stroll inside a miscellaneous goods store, and you’ll pick up a godly weapon unmatched in the world. From that moment on you’d kill gods if gods stopped your way, and kill Buddhas if Buddhas blocked your way.


The green bull laughed in contempt and broke his fantasy: “This thing barely attracted a layer of spiritual aura. It can’t even amount to a low grade spiritual weapon. It was most likely used as a training tool by a beginner apprentice practicing weapons. But at your level, it can probably barely count as a treasure!” Only, the mocking taste in the bull’s eyes was increasingly thicker.


This thing could only be used like a throwing knife. Whether for cultivators or for ordinary martial artists, it was merely a waste item that couldn’t even amount to chicken ribs.


Li Qingshan had carefully collected the small knife like a cherished item. This was after all his first, hmm, spiritual weapon, it had major commemorative value. Wasn’t it after all a rare item still.


But he didn’t expect that he’d see another one in the turn of an eye. Moreover, it was even in his enemy’s hand.


The Golden Spear Shop’s shopkeeper was also mixed in with the gentry. When the other nobles were busy taking cover in alarm, he was watching the Soaring Dragon Sword with infatuation.


If this sword were in the Golden Spear Shop, he wouldn’t have sold it off even if Li Qingshan had taken out all of his silver and begged him on his knees.


The sword qi assailed forth. Just when everyone present thought that Li Qingshan would barge forward and fight force with force just like earlier, he rolled his body to dodge the tip of the sword qi, and reached the corner of the restaurant.


The change in Yang Anzhi’s strokes came even faster. He flicked his wrist, and the glint of the sword pressed toward Li Qingshan as it followed him like a shadow, separated only by a mere few inches. The cold air stung close enough to chill Li Qingshan’s skin.


The nobles scattered in disarray while crying in fear wherever the two of them went, imagining they wanted to use them as meat shields.


Li Qingshan hadn’t reached this level of shamelessness yet. He stretched his hand out and grabbed a square table, then swung it around like a weapon.


Such a big table seemed as light as air in his hands. A crazy wind sprung in all directions. The candle lamps swayed and flickered.


Yang Anzhi took no notice at all of this power. The glint of his sword reached forward and cut the table in pieces as if it was made of tofu. In the blink of an eye, only a table foot was left clutched inside Li Qingshan’s hand.


It seemed Li Qingshan had exhausted his limited abilities as he fiercely hurled out the table foot. There was no telling whether it was because of panic and confusion, but the toss was unexpectedly off the mark and flew past Yang Anzhi’s head.


Yang Anzhi’s sword’s momentum was as a rainbow. Li Qingshan’s back pasted itself to the wall, unable to retreat and unable to dodge.


The restaurant suddenly became pitch dark. The table foot that’d flown from Li Qingshan’s hand had struck and dropped the last of the lamp light.


“Want to run! Too late!” Yang Anzhi shouted sternly, he but hadn’t noticed that right before the darkness had fallen, the expression that had emerged on Li Qingshan’s face wasn’t fear strong enough to lose his mind, but a smile instead.


“Bang!” Li Qingshan two palms slapped together and caught the Soaring Dragon Sword in space of a hairbreadth


Yang Anzhi smiled coldly. With the soaring power of the forward thrust, it was wishful thinking to try to catch the sword with mere strength! The sword tip pierced through. The friction between palm and sword actually produced the harsh ear-piercing ring of metal grinding against metal.


There was only three inches left between the tip of the sword and Li Qingshan’s throat.


Yang Anzhi’s expression suddenly changed. The cold air of an evil wind attacked from behind the back of his head, making him sense a crisis of life and death he hadn’t felt for many long years.


“That’s impossible!” This was the first thought he had.


Although his eyes couldn’t see, his other senses were still there. How could he be unable to sense someone come so near. How powerful of a movement technique was that, could it be a concealed weapon?


If the lamps were still lit inside the restaurant, the crowd would have been able to see a small knife flying toward the back of Yang Anzhi’s head, truly like a concealed weapon. But if there was someone who had opened their spiritual eyes like Li Qingshan, they would have seen that this small knife was held inside Little An’s fair little hands. It turned out to be a suitable fit.


Little An cultivated the , soaked every day in fresh blood. He was already unaffected by this level of blood energy and was able to genuinely press close to a master’s body, yet a suitable weapon had still been lacking.


If he were still using an ordinary hunting knife, then with Yang Anzhi’s strength, the internal strength protecting his body would made the knife bounce and fly out even if he didn’t practice any hard external martial art. It would have been difficult to cause lethal injuries.


But now was another story. The spiritual weapon in Little An’s hand was not only not a waste item, it was a divine sharp weapon made for assassination.


Li Qingshan used his body as bait precisely to draw Yang Anzhi into this situation. He didn’t have any prior arrangement with Little An, and there had been even less of a communication between them. There was only extreme trust, and Little An indeed hadn’t let him down. Their cooperation was extremely fine and wonderful.


Yang Anzhi was also powerful. He lowered his head and dodged past in the space of a hairbreadth. The edge of the knife almost scraped on his scalp as it glided past. He was startled but didn’t panic. He only needed to continue using his strength and strike Li Qingshan dead, then he’d be able to calmly confront the concealed weapon master behind him.


The little knife suddenly turned around and stabbed downward.


It wasn’t a concealed weapon!


Yang Anzhi’s brain was instantly thrown into chaos, because he still hadn’t sensed any living breath behind his back even now. Coldness rose in his heart, and he tried to take his sword back and defend himself regardless of anything else.


Li Qingshan’s palms pressed tightly on the sword’s blade. He laughed coldly. “Heh heh.” It’s easy to stab, but the first thing to be skewered is certainly your skull. Want to pull it away? Don’t even think about it!


A sword was a man’s life. Every swordsman had probably been taught such a lesson, not to mention this sword was a treasure sword passed down from generation to generation.


The sword stayed between Li Qingshan’s hands. The man flew out with a an extremely graceful flip, but the man himself couldn’t stay graceful any longer, cutting an extremely sorry figure with his dishevelled hair.


All of this happened in the blink of an eye. From the moment Yang Anzhi had wielded his sword forward and forced Li Qingshan against the wall, to his retreat from the assassination, only the time of a few breaths had gone by.


The nobles were all in a panic and unable to react. There was only Liu Hong who sniffed and smelled the scent of blood. His heart was full of shock. Yang Anzhi was injured? How did this kid injure him?


Yang Anzhi had decisively abandoned his sword at the very last moment, but he’d still paid a heavy price. Little And had used the small spiritual knife to lacerate open a wound over a foot long on his back. Fresh blood gushed down.


Li Qingshan felt some admiration in his heart for his decision. He experienced for the first time this sentiment described inside books. Even if it were an enemy of life and death, even if he would spare no effort to send the other side to the land of the dead, he could still be shaken by the skill exhibited by his opponent during the confrontation.


But he would naturally not become tangled in those feelings in the middle of a battle, or tangled about the rights and wrongs of everything. Since they had a grudge set in blood, it was the proper way to kill the opponent regardless of anything else.


There was a patch of darkness upstairs the restaurant, with faint lamp light filtering in from the windows. Yang Anzhi opened his eyes wide, doing his best to adapt to this darkness. A black shadow appeared, and a fierce gale hit his face as it pounced his way, seemingly carrying a faint fishy smell with it.



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