As the night fog surged, Qin Ming never expected to find himself in such a dire situation. His smile vanished, and his expression froze, completely dumbfounded.
Below, the golden-armored guard grinned broadly, revealing a mouth full of gleaming white teeth. His happiness seemed to blossom as he prepared to strike, shining brighter with anticipation.
“Ha ha…” he laughed, wielding a massive sword as he stomped down, sending clouds of yellow sand exploding around him. Bathed in radiant light, he resembled a shooting star, ready to shatter mountains with his force!
Clearly, he wished nothing more than to cleave the young man in half with a single stroke. Even before making contact, he had already shattered one of Qin Ming's arms with a violent blow.
Leaping into the air, the golden-armored guard moved with a clash of metal, golden light illuminating his entire form. He appeared like a blazing sun, intent on incinerating the dark night fog, his sword slicing through the air like lightning.
With a sickening thud, he obliterated the darkened bird beneath him, the light tearing apart its flesh and showering down its bloody feathers.
In that moment, Qin Ming propelled himself off the bird's back, his cloak unfurling like the wings of a bat. He was mimicking Ge Qianxun, and although he was near the ground, he used it to soar.
At the very least, gliding out like this allowed him incredible speed, causing the external saint below to falter momentarily, forcing him to chase after rapidly.
With a loud crash, Qin Ming landed in the soft yellow sand, creating a large pit that sent dust spiraling into the air. Thanks to the protective light surrounding him, he suffered no harm.
“Keep escaping if you can!” The golden-armored guard appeared, his expression icy. His right arm had been reduced to little more than a stump, completely battered by a black iron hammer that had broken it beyond repair.
His hatred for the young man in front of him was palpable.
Qin Ming's expression turned heavy as he faced this external saint alone—his heart began to race.
If any other newcomer were in his position, they would have already succumbed to despair. What hope did they have against someone like this?
The golden-armored guard wielded his large sword and slowly advanced, overwhelming Qin Ming with a strong sense of pressure.
Though young, likely in his twenties, he had defined features and a sharp gaze.
Boom!
He stomped his foot down with tremendous strength, stirring up a violent storm of sand as he closed in on Qin Ming, sword raised to strike.
Qin Ming didn't dare to face the blow head-on and quickly dodged.
The golden-armored guard missed with his sword, turning his body halfway and sweeping his leg towards the boy buried in the yellow sand. The force behind this strike was enough to send an elephant flying, ripping through him with fatal abandon.
In a flurry, Qin Ming seemed flustered, not even having time to unsheathe his knife as he raised it to block the guard's glowing leg.
A cold smile appeared at the corner of the guard's mouth. So this young man was merely a weakling... No, something in his mind jolted him awake, and realization struck.
This “weakling” had brought down the woman in black and had recently taken his right arm, rendering him helpless.
True to his reputation as an external saint, that leg, which he had already swung out, jerked back at the last moment, and he unleashed his golden sword in a sweeping motion.
Qin Ming's blade erupted with blinding light, shattering the scabbard as the sheep-fat jade iron knife clashed with the massive sword, creating showers of sparks and a deafening clang.
The golden-armored guard broke into a cold sweat. He hastily stepped back a few paces to regain his composure; it was simply too close to call. Had he not pulled his leg back in time, today would have ended in tragedy!
Qin Ming felt a deep regret; he was inches away from severing the man's leg with his precious knife, proving that victory or defeat hinged on a mere moment.
It dawned on him that his powerful strike had left a psychological scar on the golden-armored guard, making him overly cautious.
With a burning chest, Qin Ming felt the vibrations in his hands. He stepped back, his grip on the knife slightly numb, and the blood within him was churning violently.
He finally understood what it felt like to be overwhelmed by someone with sheer strength, clashing in an all-out battle.
The golden-armored man, glancing at the notch in his sword, looked especially sullen, and his caution toward the newcomer was at an all-time high.
He couldn't afford to underestimate his opponent after suffering the loss of an arm, and now the boy was targeting his left leg as well, coming alarmingly close to success!
Then his eyes flared with renewed intensity. The boy was wielding a sheep-fat jade iron knife—a prize he desperately wanted to claim.
Neither spoke; words felt futile in the heat of battle. All they could think about was annihilating the other.
The wind howled as the night fog surged like a tidal wave, lifting clouds of yellow sand into the air. Both opponents engaged fiercely.
Clang! With a sharp sound, Qin Ming was sent flying backward six or seven meters, barely managing to stay upright. His hands throbbed painfully, and he felt a trickle of blood from his palm.
The golden-armored youth stomped closer, his face as cold as ice. Another terrible notch appeared on his sword, and to his dismay, he found himself unable to shatter the boy and force him to drop the jade iron knife.
As Qin Ming moved his wrists in the sand, an unusual expression crossed his face. Had this young man only recently entered the external saint realm? The gap between them didn't seem insurmountable.
At the very least, he had withstood two sword strikes from his opponent!
“Did you perhaps undergo seven transformations before stepping into the external saint realm?” Qin Ming asked, pointing his jade iron knife at the guard.
Upon hearing this, the golden-armored youth shot an icy glare. Was the boy doubting his strength? This was a blatant mockery!
Without hesitation, he charged forward, swinging his sword wildly.
Qin Ming didn't intend to insult him; he simply wished to ascertain the true difference between himself and the external saint.
Testing the waters, he validated his initial thoughts: in terms of raw power, his opponent did not have an absolute advantage.
The two engaged in a flurry of strikes. Despite being knocked back repeatedly, Qin Ming eventually regained his footing. Some of the soft flesh between his fingers had been injured, oozing a trickle of blood. Yet he pressed on.
Most crucially, confidence surged within him. His opponent was still far from wielding a strength of ten thousand pounds; brute force alone couldn’t kill him.
In an instant, Qin Ming turned the tides, seizing the initiative, launching several attacks, his blade radiating a powerful intent. He now exuded confidence, resembling a young master of the sword.
The golden-armored man felt shaken. He had immersed himself in sword training for years; his mastery was deep, yet compared to this boy’s knife skills, it paled in comparison.
In the end, he was forced into a battle of strength, where his swordsmanship lagged behind the young one’s remarkable skill. Humiliation and frustration consumed him. What kind of monster had he encountered?
The golden-armored man's standards were high. He saw in Qin Ming the aura of a master swordsman, and calling him a young master wasn’t an exaggeration.
In the desert, countless grains of sand were lifted into the air, dancing with Qin Ming's knife, caught in the rhythm of his blade like rolling waves.
This desolate stretch of land felt as if it had transformed into an ocean, culminating in crashing waves as powerful as those driven by a master still in their youth.
The golden-armored man understood he had to unleash his full potential, pushing his light energy to the limit to break Qin Ming's unique rhythm, shaking him to the core and nearly causing him to spit blood.
However, the golden-armored guard also suffered. When he released his full power, his severed arm bled uncontrollably, unable to manage the wound.
Qin Ming staggered back a good distance, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet he wore a brilliant smile. “You don’t seem as strong as I imagined.”
The golden-armored man felt insulted; how could a newcomer dare to look down on him? His entire body surged with dazzling light energy once more, and in addition to swinging his sword, he sought to collide with Qin Ming physically.
Boom!
In the desert, the night fog boiled, and dust could be seen swirling. The life-or-death battle became an all-out clash.
Qin Ming was thrown back six or seven meters, blood gushing from his mouth, his hands spasming as the flesh between his fingers tore painfully.
His left hand was swollen, filled with bruises.
At the same time, waves of pain pulsed from his right foot.
Just moments ago, he had engaged in a clash of swords with his opponent, the contact forcing him to endure close proximity.
In that heartbeat, Qin Ming thought he might perish, fearing he would be torn apart by the golden light. Yet he held onto a reckless determination, a fusion of energy coursing throughout him, allowing him to withstand the blow.
The golden-armored man stood in shock. His light energy could extend half a foot outward, yet it failed to shred the young man’s flesh and was blocked by a layer of energy surrounding him.
His feet burned with pain upon impact, realizing his light energy hardly gained the upper hand.
“Have you learned a flawed version of the Sky-Piercing Strike or perhaps even grasped a hint of the Divine Might?” His heart trembled with excitement, his eyes shining with keen desire.
How could this mere newcomer stand firm against the onslaught of an external saint? It was unfathomable.
However, in his longing, a muffled grunt escaped his lips as he quickly reined in his energy, applying pressure to his severed arm, which had begun bleeding anew.
Qin Ming coughed blood and swayed on his feet, grinning. “Your external saint's light energy isn’t as powerful as I imagined. I can endure!”
His fighting spirit soared as he projected powerful confidence.
“Are you insulting me?” The golden-armored youth's voice turned icy, his sword hand trembling. This young newcomer confronted him with such audacity.
Qin Ming replied, “Am I wrong? It seems that merely going through seven transformations and using a powerful medicine to breach the external saint realm doesn’t give such feats of strength. After all, I’ve already slain seven or eight so-called golden thieves.”
To Qin Ming, this golden-armored man felt like nothing more than someone who had taken an extra dose of medicine, enabling him to exude light energy.
“External saint, come, let us determine our fates!” he shouted.
The golden-armored youth felt mocked, resenting being addressed as a nephew.
At this moment, he no longer viewed the boy as just a newcomer; he could see past the surface and recognized the mysterious and frightening strength he wielded. The fact that this boy could withstand his powers, combined with the essence of a sword master’s aura, made him feel like an incomprehensible anomaly.
“Kill!”
The two plunged into a brutal, life-and-death struggle.
Qin Ming disregarded the blood gushing from his hand, focusing solely on his sword, wielding superb and unpredictable skills, infused with a daunting intent.
Moreover, he occasionally made contact with his opponent, retaliating with his own light energy.
“Is that the essence of the earth?” The golden-armored man gasped. The boy's palm carried the might of the earth—wasn’t this something only an external saint could master?
He had only just stepped into the external saint realm and hadn’t even experimented with it yet!
Qin Ming unleashed his yellow mud palm, striking the golden-armored man brutally, drawing blood from his lips.
There was no doubt that when Qin Ming fused all his light energy into a fierce strike, he was at his peak. However, such power drained him terribly.
Currently, he opted for the yellow mud palm, conserving his energy since absorbing the power of that rare earth vein crystal significantly increased its power.
Whenever the golden-armored man attempted to engage in a blood duel, Qin Ming would also switch to his fully fused light energy, launching direct and violent assaults.
He could predict when his opponent would fully commit because every time the golden-armored man exerted himself, blood would spill from his severed arm.
Never had the golden-armored man felt so cornered. He was battling a mere newcomer, yet it had reached this intense level—it was unbearably frustrating.
Theoretically, as an external saint, he could obliterate the boy with a single sword strike, ripping apart his flesh in an instant.
But now, his massive sword couldn’t pierce through this boy, and his palm couldn’t break through that strange light energy.
He sensed he was at an impasse, battered and bruised.
At this stage, the golden-armored man's face had turned ashen. After several all-out conflicts, he had bled extensively from his severed arm.
He sensed the situation was dire. This boy had gritted his teeth and held on thus far, seemingly beginning to gain the upper hand.
“He truly may have grasped a flawed version of the Divine Might or Sky-Piercing Strike, forcing me into this fight while I bleed out and begin to falter."
With a loud clang, the golden-armored man’s sword shattered into two pieces. If not for the light energy sustaining it, the jade iron knife would have obliterated it much sooner.
“This…” Doubt crept into him. As an external saint, he felt panic rising within. He was starting to waver.
“Kill!” Although Qin Ming was coughing blood, he continued to charge forward, radiating with undeterred fighting spirit.
“Puff!”
Moments later, the golden-armored man’s left arm was severed!
“Ah…” A hoarse scream escaped his lips, unable to believe he would be the one to fall.
Qin Ming also felt he was nearing his limits. Even if the opponent was merely someone who had taken a stronger medicine compared to the golden thieves, they remained an expert from another realm.
Summoning every ounce of strength, he delivered one last strike, cleaving the golden-armored man’s head from his body before crashing to the sandy ground.
Qin Ming, bearing the intense pain throughout his body, laughed as he collapsed, realizing he had successfully slain the saint!