I'll make you the furnace and the cauldron, so you can refine Yin and Yang and prove the Great

How terrifying is a desperate strike from a cultivator at the Void Refinement stage?

Only at this moment did the disciples who had been watching from afar truly understand the weight of the words "Refining Emptiness".

The moment the Grand Elder of the Heavenly Demon Sect made a move, the sky over the entire desolate mountain area instantly darkened.

A torrent of demonic energy surged from his mangled body, condensing in mid-air into a hundred-foot-tall, pitch-black demonic hand. Its palm lines were like furrows, its five fingers like mountains, and the layers of demonic patterns on its center faintly coalesced into a grotesque, agonizingly howling face. The face had hollow eyes and a gaping mouth, as if countless wronged souls were struggling and screaming within it, even the air itself seemed to be tainted with a nauseating, pungent sweetness.

"Heavenly Demon Soul-Seizing Palm!"

Someone shouted out the name of this move—the ultimate technique of the Heavenly Demon Sect. Over thousands of years, countless cultivators at the Void Refinement stage have died under this palm strike!

This palm strike was famous throughout the Central Continent three hundred years ago—during the great war between the two sects, the third elder of the previous generation of the Joyful Union Sect had his primordial spirit shattered by this palm strike, leaving no trace of his body. The blood-written record of that battle is still preserved in the sect's scripture library.

When the senior disciples recalled this record, their faces turned deathly pale.

The moment the demonic hand struck, all the spiritual energy of the entire barren mountain was drained away.

The earth cracked, and rocks rose from the ground, only to be crushed into dust in mid-air. For hundreds of miles around, vegetation withered and turned yellow in an instant, as if something had sucked all their life force away.

The disciples a hundred miles away felt a tightness in their chests, and those below the Refinement Void stage could barely stand. The deacons protecting the crowd all paled and joined forces to erect a spiritual energy barrier, barely managing to stabilize the situation.

Following the demonic attack, the Grand Elder's true form arrived—he burned his very essence, burning the last vestige of life within his mangled body, transforming himself into a jet-black meteor, his five fingers like hooks, aimed straight for Li Hanshan's crown!

The palm strike is an open attack, while the man's move is a killing blow.

The open moves are earth-shattering, while the killing moves are silent and stealthy.

The so-called killing move has no solution.

If you block his palm, he will crush your skull; if you dodge, his demonic hand will seal off all directions—the explosion gained from burning one's very essence is meant to decide life and death in a single breath.

This is a desperate method truly honed through countless battles. There are no fancy moves, no way out, only four words: You die, I live.

Several miles away, Ye Shuanghua's heart was in her throat; the Jinghong Sword was already half an inch out of its sheath—

Then, she witnessed a scene she would never forget.

Li Hanshan did not back down.

He didn't even move.

He simply raised his right hand.

hum-

With a soft hum, a broken sword appeared in his hand without him even realizing it.

It was a broken sword, half of the blade missing, its edge rusted and unremarkable, like a piece of iron salvaged from a pile of scrap metal. But the moment he grasped this broken sword—

boom!

An invisible and intangible sword intent, yet extremely sharp, shot up from between his brows!

That sword intent was not of this world, nor of the Five Elements. It seemed to come from the depths of the soul, from the end of the void. The moment it appeared, the "sound" of the entire world was severed—the wind stopped, the roar of the demonic energy fell silent, and even the burning remains of the Great Elder paused in mid-air.

Sword of the Soul.

Deep within his consciousness, Xiao An sat cross-legged steadily, without even lifting his eyelids.

She knew all too well what this sword meant—the sword of her master's soul, which had slain those who had transformed into Nascent Souls and those who had refined to Void Realm, and had never uttered the word "bitter battle" under its blade.

Li Hanshan pointed his fingers together and gently gestured.

The invisible sword intent between his brows silently disappeared into the broken sword.

The rusty, broken sword gleamed.

The broken sword has a spirit.

It had accompanied its master in slaying the nine-headed serpent and drinking the essence blood of the Void Refining Demon Clan. The wisp of ferocity sealed within the sword was suddenly awakened by the stimulation of the Divine Soul Sword.

A flash of sword light appeared.

Only one.

There was no earth-shattering momentum, no earth-shattering brilliance; it was simply a clean, straightforward sword strike, slashing diagonally—

laugh.

The hundred-foot-long demonic hand was severed in the middle.

The break was as smooth as a mirror; the severed demonic energy didn't even have time to dissipate before it vanished inch by inch in the void, as if it had never existed.

The sword's momentum remained undiminished.

The black meteor formed from the burning of the Grand Elder's essence was as thin as paper in the face of the sword light.

His eyes were open.

He died without ever seeing the trajectory of that sword strike.

He only felt a coolness between his brows, and then the whole world went silent.

The sword light passed right through him and vanished without a sound.

The Grand Elder's figure remained frozen in mid-air, motionless.

One breath later—

A thin line of blood slowly descended from between his brows.

Immediately afterwards, the blood spread, penetrating the entire body.

With a loud crash, the mangled body that once struck fear into the Central Continent split in two and fell among the rocks of the desolate mountain, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The demonic energy dissipated.

The winds are blowing again.

From the moment the demon's clutches pressed down to the moment a sword beheaded him—it all happened in just three breaths.

Several miles away, a disciple instinctively pinched himself, wincing in pain, before he dared to believe that what he was seeing was real.

-

The entire room fell silent.

The thousands of disciples watching from a distance were frozen in place, mouths agape, all in the same position. The wind blew across the foot of the mountain, the sound of their clothes fluttering clearly almost piercingly, yet not a single person moved.

Yan Qingsong's expression froze.

He had prepared a bellyful of words of schadenfreude, ready to watch Li Hanshan bleed on the spot—but in the end, he only saw a flash of light.

A sword light he could never comprehend in his lifetime. When that light swept past, he didn't even feel any fluctuation of spiritual energy. It was as if someone had casually drawn a line on a piece of paper, and then the paper shattered—along with the hundred-foot-long demonic palm drawn on the paper, and the Void Refinement expert burning his origin, all shattered together.

"One sword strike..." Huo Yuan's voice was dry, like sandpaper rubbing together, "Just one sword strike?"

That's the Grand Elder of the Heavenly Demon Sect!

That was someone who once stood at the peak of the Void Refinement stage!

Even if severely injured, even if one's very essence is burned, it is still a Void Refinement stage!

Yu Mengjia's lips trembled, and after a long while, she managed to squeeze out, "If only he had possessed such cultivation earlier... Chen Jie back then..."

She didn't finish speaking.

She suddenly remembered the day Chen Jie died. She had secretly thought that a disciple from the Northern Wilderness who had caused such a commotion would eventually suffer the consequences. Now, recalling it, that once confident face felt like it had been slapped from afar, burning with pain.

Yan Qingsong clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. He suddenly remembered a few years ago in the square when he had pointed his finger at someone and called them a "furnace"—now, thinking back, he felt like a complete clown. No, not even as good as a clown. At least a clown knows he's acting, but back then, he genuinely felt like he was on a high place.

Ye Shuanghua stared blankly at the figure standing in the arena, sword sheathed, and slowly loosened her grip on the Jinghong Sword.

She had expected it to be a tough battle.

She had already planned in her mind that once Li Hanshan was defeated, she would risk severe punishment under the sect rules to snatch him away.

result--

one move.

There is only one move.

She suddenly remembered a long time ago, when he leaned on the gunwale of the flying boat and said to her with a grin, "Senior sister, when I come back, it'll be my turn to protect you."

At the time, she took it as a joke from Li Hanshan.

It turns out it wasn't a joke.

Something was welling up in her eyes, but she tilted her head back and forced it back—she, Ye Shuanghua, could not cry in front of thousands of disciples.

On the boulder, the sect leader's gaze changed completely, staring intently at the rusty broken sword in Li Hanshan's hand, his eyes churning with turbulent emotions.

Over thousands of years, she has seen countless geniuses and prodigies. But to be able to kill a peak Void Refinement cultivator who has burned his very essence with a single sword strike while only at the Void Refinement stage—such a sword strike is something even she has rarely seen.

Although this peak Void Refinement cultivator was in a weakened state, he was not someone who could be instantly killed by a single sword strike.

The fingers hidden in the sleeve trembled slightly.

At the outermost edge of the crowd, beneath her veil, Ye Feiyan's face was paler than that of a dead person.

Of course she knew her master was strong.

Only after witnessing the sword strike with her own eyes did she realize just how terrifying the nine-petaled Yin mark on her abdomen had been created by.

How ridiculous that she was just now secretly hoping something would happen to him...

Everyone was fooled by him. From the day he stepped into the Heavenly Demon Sect, this man never truly revealed his trump card.

None of the seven elders looked pleased at this moment.

Especially the Ninth Elder.

His gaze was fixed on the broken sword, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

He suddenly remembered that a few years ago, when Chen Jie died, he had said that he would personally deal with this son.

Others might not understand that sword strike, but how could he, an elder at the second level of the Void Refinement stage, not understand it? That sword strike wasn't aimed at the physical body, but at the soul! He silently deduced that if that sword strike had been aimed at him, he could have withstood at most three moves.

After three moves, he died and his life vanished.

A chill ran down his spine and slowly climbed up the back of his neck.

The Fourth Elder's expression shifted between light and shadow, while the Sixth Elder opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately uttered no words. For the first time, the Second Elder's half-male, half-female face darkened completely—with such a Void Refinement cultivator added to the sect leader's lineage, it would be difficult for the elders to control the sect leader in the future.

In the arena, Li Hanshan slowly walked to the mutilated body, bent down, took out a pitch-black storage ring from the tattered robe, casually wiped away the restriction, and put it into his sleeve.

His movements were unhurried, as if he were picking a ripe fruit in his own backyard.

Then he straightened up, dusted off his sleeves, turned around, and looked in the direction of the council of elders.

Laughed.