Chapter 2369: The Jade Scroll Provokes Murderous Intent (1)

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio     Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Wei Feng, one of the Three Emperors.

Similar to the ancient swordsman’s path, Wei Feng was an unparalleled swordsman of his time, belonging to the same generation as You Tu.

Awakening without attribute at the Innate Stage, he, who should have been abandoned, resolutely wielded his blade and carved out a path through bloodshed, achieving sanctification through slaughter. He was bestowed with the moniker “God of Killing, Wei Feng.”

Throughout his life, he slew numerous geniuses, his temperament volatile, and his killings bordered on madness. He was eventually suppressed by the Holy Divine Palace for decades in the Dead Sea, bringing peace to the martial arts world.

In the depths of the Dead Sea, after his brilliance was blunted, the Holy Divine Palace offered him the position of one of the Three Emperors, inviting him to come out of seclusion.

Thus, Wei Feng, the God of Killing, became the first blade on the Sacred Mountain Gui Zhe!

Standing at the entrance to the passage, Jin Ren saw this black-clothed old man, not much taller than Master Dean. In his mind flashed the information about the Council of Ten left by Aunt Xiang on a jade scroll.

Undoubtedly, this was a formidable individual!

Especially beneath the Spell Forbidden Barrier at the entrance to the Ran Ming ruins, where Spiritual Cultivators were rendered almost useless and ancient swordsmanship prevailed, yet the God of Killing, Wei Feng, stood apart as a third entity beyond these two paths.

“A swordsman…”

A swordsman was not equivalent to an ancient sword cultivator.

The path of swordsmanship in the Shengshen Continent did not possess a

complete lineage as the Way of the Sword did.

Wei Feng forged his own path, becoming the progenitor of his lineage.

Now a demi-saint, if he left a legacy, it would culminate in demi-sainthood.

If he became a Holy Emperor, the endpoint would be the Holy Emperor.

If he ascended to godhood, his path would be epoch-making, evolving into a Great Path akin to the Ancient Sword Technique.

His status would then be equivalent to the Sword God, Gu Louying.

However, these were all unknowns. What Wei Feng, the God of Killing, specifically cultivated in…

Even with Aunt Xiang’s resourcefulness, there was hardly any combat information available, only basic introductions.

This demonstrates the extensive effort the Holy Divine Palace invested in concealing this ancient blade from the past generation.

Jin Ren’s gaze quickly shifted from the elderly man clad in black to the broadsword he wielded.

It was a dark cyan blade.

The blade was as wide as a human head, three fingers thick, and slightly taller than Wei Feng himself, requiring him to sit on a stone to support the hilt.

The blade’s surface was covered in naturally formed dark dragon-scale-like patterns, ancient and weathered, as if suppressing the turbulent and violent force within.

The dark cyan color of the blade was not its true appearance; rather, it was forged from years of bloodshed and the devouring of souls.

Jin Ren knew this thanks to Aunt Xiang’s intel.

“Yama’s Banquet, one of the ten Great Psionic Weapons, an extreme weapon of slaughter!”

“Rumor has it that this blade can draw blood and devour souls with a mere scratch, causing excruciating pain, mental agony, and clouding of judgment due to its ferocious aura.’

“If it severs tendons and fractures bones with each strike, the enemy’s momentum weakens while he grows stronger—their decline becomes his empowerment.”

Jin Ren solemnly warned his companions while his gaze returned to the black-clothed elder. Then, he slowly said:

“Yama’s Banquet, Yama’s Banquet… The Yama’s invitation to a feast, three strikes lead to death.”

“Ordinary people cannot suppress the power of the ‘Yama’s Banquet.’ Within three strikes, the wielder will be inevitably backlashed to death!”

“In this era, only one person can wield such a ferocious Great Psionic Weapon. I believe you must be one of the Three Emperors, the God of Killing, Wei Feng?” The killing intent at the entrance of the passage was palpable.

When Wei Feng raised his eyes, a hint of crimson faded from the depths.

He discerned the sincere admiration and awe in the young man’s words and couldn’t help but lift the corners of his lips:

“I heard that the Saint Servant Xu Xiaoshou is eloquent and adept at striking at the heart of his opponents. I’ve been prepared and vigilant for a long time, but I didn’t expect…”

“Are you afraid of me?”

Wei Feng grinned, seemingly proud that time hadn’t worn thin the edge of his abilities, that his killing intent alone could subdue such a promising young talent.

“No, no, no, Senior Wei Feng, you misunderstood me. I am not praising you.” Jin Ren shook his head, waving his hands.

“Oh?” Wei Feng was puzzled. “Then what do you mean?”

“What I mean is…” Jin Ren paused, then chuckled, lowering his head with a seemingly harmless smile—like kindness preceding the tempest:

“An outstanding figure like you, the emperor, might be renowned elsewhere, but your status doesn’t hold much significance for me.”

“Look, at Abyss Island, I recently killed one of the Three Emperors. He didn’t have to die, and I even advised him…”

Jin Ren shrugged, raising his head with an innocent smile:

“He didn’t listen, what can I do!”

“Senior Wei Feng, do you want to hear what I told him at that time?”

Leaning on the sword, Wei Feng’s smile immediately froze, his expression turning grim and cold.

Yan Wuse was dead.

Of course, Wei Feng knew.

He also knew that Yan Wuse wasn’t killed by Xu Xiaoshou; he was gradually consumed in a protracted battle, eventually succumbing to the treacherous backstab of the Water Ghost.

In the intricate killing game on Abyss Island, until its conclusion, no one knew exactly who the primary target was.

But!

Someone would die!

There was no doubt about that.

Looking back now, any demi-saint had no assurance of surviving that game unscathed, except for Hallmaster Dao.

Wei Feng had known Yan Wuse for too long.

He knew what kind of person he was.

Little did he expect that the final encounter with Yan Wuse would occur during the Council of Ten meeting where he eagerly provoked and challenged him.

But insulting the dead and elevating oneself—was this a source of pride for you, Xu Xiaoshou, or for your Saint Servant?

Bang!

Wei Feng slapped the blade of the Yama’s Banquet.

After a swift spin, the dark cyan broadsword rested on his shoulder..

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