The siege circle suddenly contracted, and the disciples of the Bao Hua Hall, over twenty layers deep, began their assault on Qin Feng.
With a swift leap, Qin Feng's Xie Yue Qi Xing Sword soared from the ground into his hand.
"Bloodfire Heavenly River!" Qin Feng let out a sharp, war cry, unleashing his most brutal move from the Xing He Sword Technique — Bloodfire Heavenly River!
The sword spun in a perfect 360-degree arc. As the blade moved, the air itself caught fire, igniting into a sea of blood-red flames.
This strike wasn't aimed at any one target, but the overwhelming force of the Bloodfire Heavenly River blazed toward everyone around him.
The blood-red flames spread like a cosmic river, turning the world into a fiery crimson. The fire lashed out with terrifying precision, and the screams of pain filled the air as nearly a hundred Bao Hua disciples were engulfed, their bodies turning to ash.
Blackened corpses and ash were carried into the air, glittering with a ghastly red glow as they were illuminated by the blood-fire.
Qin Feng landed lightly on the ground, brushing the ash from his body. He was like a wolf, diving into the remaining chaos. With a slash of his sword, a flash of blue and purple sword light erupted and then vanished just as quickly.
Blood exploded as dozens of heads shot into the air.
Wherever Qin Feng went, the crowd broke apart like sand swept away by a tide. Blood gushed upward like a fountain, and severed limbs darkened the sky like ominous clouds.
Qin Feng moved relentlessly, his blade flashing like lightning. The disciples of Bao Hua Hall and the city's soldiers stood no chance against him, like phantoms in his wake, their heads lopped off before they even saw him move.
Each swing was a fatal blow. Within the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, over three hundred men were dead, their heads scattered across the ground, the streets running red with blood. Wan Hua City had turned into a hellish battleground.
The disciples of Bao Hua Hall and the city's soldiers came in waves, yet they were no more than crops in a field, falling one after another as Qin Feng's sword carved through them.
His expression was cold, his eyes void of emotion. The lives of hundreds—thousands—meant nothing to him.
His long hair flowed with the wind as he struck again and again, his azure robe billowing like a cloud in the storm. The swordlight seemed like a serpent in the inferno, a bolt of lightning from the heavens, a reaper of death.
No one could even raise a sword before him. No one could last even a moment in his presence.
He killed hundreds, yet not a drop of blood touched his own body. Blood sprayed through the air in torrents, but he weaved through it all, never once stained.
From the outer circle, Xiao Shanhe, trembling, watched in disbelief as Qin Feng's slaughter continued.
The face of the so-called First Beauty of Jiangnan, once graceful, now looked like the face of a demon. His lips quivered, pale with fear.
"A devil... It must be a devil... I've seen a devil..." he muttered to himself.
The watching crowd cheered wildly. Everyone, even those who had bet on Bao Hua Hall's victory, was shouting for Qin Feng.
Children clapped their hands red, some even daring to stand close to the battlefield, splattered with blood, yet they couldn't tear their eyes away from the carnage. They laughed, their faces twisted in joy, completely entranced.
Qin Ren, casually eating popcorn, observed this madness with cold eyes.
He wasn't watching the battle; to him, the outcome was certain. His brother, Qin Feng, would win.
What he was observing, however, was the reaction of the crowd.
As he saw their excitement, Qin Ren shook his head and muttered, "The bloodthirst of the people... This world... This country has no hope."
Liu Piaopiao, who was watching the slaughter intently, asked in confusion, "Brother Qin, why would you say that?"
Xiao Xiangyue, too, looked at Qin Ren, her eyes full of questioning.
Qin Ren shook his head. "Killing itself isn't terrifying. What's terrifying is watching others kill with enjoyment. There are many reasons for killing—self-defense, heroism, revenge—but every killer has a reason. Whether justified or not, the killer always has some purpose. But the most frightening ones aren't the killers themselves, but the spectators who watch the killing with glee. They are cold-blooded, cruel, and possess the most terrifying trait of all—ignorance. Once ignorance takes root, there's no turning back. A country full of such ignorant citizens is doomed. Look at them," he pointed at the excited faces of the crowd. "Their excitement isn't born from compassion, but from bloodlust. They see the blood and death as nothing more than seasoning for their mundane lives. What future do these people have? And these children..." He motioned toward the kids, some of whom were laughing and playing in the blood. "They aren't brave. They're ignorant. How many of them will grow up to be heroes? How many will become murderers or bullies? Maybe none of them will ever be true heroes—most of them will become murderers and tyrants."
Xiao Xiangyue said, "Young Master, why worry about the future of the country? You're the first person to ever declare their ambition to be a flower thief. Your life goal is to steal every beautiful flower in the world. What does it matter to you what happens to the Qin Empire? And besides, isn't it your brother who's doing the killing right now?"
Qin Ren thought for a moment, then smiled bitterly. "You're right. Why should I care? Let them watch. Let my brother have his fun. Let them enjoy the killing. Everyone else is drowning in filth—I might as well join them and stir up the mud. After all, I'm living my dream—surrounded by beautiful women, galloping through the world, and indulging in all pleasures. That's the way of the hero!"
With a sudden shout, he began to sing, "The great river flows east, the stars align in the Northern Dipper! When it's time to kill, we kill! When we see beauty, we shout! Time to strike, time to strike, let's go woo the beauties!"
In the world of the Jianghu, it's all about killing, drinking, womanizing, and getting rich.
What is a hero? Someone who kills without hesitation, who lusts for beauty, who drinks to madness.
That was the hero Qin Ren envisioned.
Meanwhile, Qin Feng's killing didn't stop. Over seven hundred people had fallen to his blade.
It didn't matter if you were a man or a woman, young or old, beautiful or plain. Everyone was the same before his sword.
Everything was decided by the blade.
The disciples of Bao Hua Hall, once filled with bravado, now crumbled before him. Yesterday's charming disciples were now nothing but bloody corpses. Every life was meaningless in the face of the Sword Saint.
The Bao Hua disciples began to panic, screaming and fleeing. Even the professional soldiers from Wan Hua City lost all courage, their spirits broken by Qin Feng's relentless killing.
The siege that had surrounded him was now in retreat. No one could stand before him. They fled in fear, with only a few stragglers still trying to fight.
Qin Feng didn't chase the fleeing ones. He was a Sword Saint, and he never struck from behind.
Xiao Shanhe was enraged, shouting orders for the remaining disciples and soldiers to regroup and fight, even personally killing several who tried to escape.
But no one listened. Every single one of them was running.
The defeat was inevitable, and Bao Hua Hall had suffered a crushing loss. Over five hundred disciples had fallen, and three hundred soldiers lay dead. The rest had scattered.
Qin Feng stepped over the bloodied corpses, making his way to Xiao Shanhe.
His eyes, cold as lightning, locked onto Xiao Shanhe, who stood alone facing him, his legs trembling.
Blood dripped from the Xie Yue Qi Xing Sword, each drop falling onto the stone tiles with a soft, chilling sound.
Qin Feng's voice was icy. "Make your move. I'm giving you one chance to resist."
Xiao Shanhe let out a roar like a wild beast, raising his iron flute high and swinging it toward Qin Feng's head.
Qin Feng sneered, "So, you're not using your ultimate technique, Seven Deadly Heavenly Sounds?" He swung his sword without hesitation.
Xiao Shanhe's head flew into the air. Blood poured from his neck in a dazzling arc, glistening in the sunlight.
Watching Xiao Shanhe fall, Xiao Xiangyue closed her eyes, two tears slipping from her eyes and falling silently.
Qin Ren immediately embraced her, but she buried her head in his chest, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed softly.
Having slain Xiao Shanhe, Qin Feng gave his sword a slight flick, and the blood on the blade shook off.
Just as he was about to sheathe his sword, a cold, yet melodious voice reached his ears, "Impressive, so impressive! Truly worthy of the Sword Saint! But after killing so many, Qin Feng, are you not afraid of the vengeful spirits seeking retribution?"