The Battle of the Eighth Rank

Ye Han's grip on his sword suddenly loosened just centimeters from his palm, which was hard to notice with the gray sword glow as a cover. His mental power immediately enveloped the sword hilt.

With a clang, the aura of fighting spirit dispersed instantly as the two swords collided. Ye Han's longsword was knocked out of his hand.

"Ha, a kid who can't even hold onto his sword," the swordsman began to say before his words cut off abruptly as he stared at Ye Han in disbelief.

With a thump, Ye Han closed the distance, kicking the swordsman hard in the abdomen and grabbing the longsword that was now embedded in the swordsman's chest.

Blood splattered, and the swordsman died on the spot, unable to close his eyes in death, unable to comprehend why the sword that had flown out was now thrust into his chest.

"Flying Sword Technique, something beyond your comprehension," Ye Han thought to himself.

Ye Han had used a simple flying sword technique from the Yijian Decision, controlling the flying sword with his soul. Although Ye Han's soul strength wasn't yet strong enough to fly with the sword and kill enemies from miles away like a Sword Immortal, controlling the sword within ten yards to kill enemies was still within his capabilities.

Combined with the element of surprise and the swordsman's underestimation, the eighth-rank swordsman died unclearly and abruptly.

"How is this possible?" The other three were stunned.

According to their information and observation, the man in the black robe was just a seventh-rank swordsman, and it seemed he had just advanced to that rank. They couldn't fathom how an eighth-rank swordsman had been killed so quickly and confusingly, not even understanding how the sword that had left Ye Han's hand flew back to fatally strike their comrade.

"He's concealed his strength. Let's attack together." The remaining swordsman, now fully deploying his eighth-rank speed, brandished his longsword with a fierce red glow, slashing fiercely at Ye Han. The air temperature around the swordsman's blade began to rise as the red glow illuminated.

"Attacking together is better; it saves time," Ye Han said without hesitation, his bloodstained longsword vibrating.

The aura of an eighth-rank swordsman contains the power of heaven and earth, and at the moment the swordsman struck, the air around Ye Han seemed to compress from the north.

Having experienced the aura of two Saint-rank powerhouses and the insane slaughter in Celt City, Ye Han was completely immune to such an aura of the eighth-rank swordsman, leaving no effect on him.

The energy gap between the seventh and eighth ranks isn't significant, but an eighth-rank can easily defeat several seventh-ranks because they incorporate the power of heaven and earth into their attacks, which greatly affects the attack and speed of the seventh-rank. In high-level duels, every second counts, and a moment's hesitation could determine the outcome of a battle.

Clang! The two swords met in the air, and the fighting spirit and Tai Yin energy they infused into their weapons collided.

Boom!

A terrifying energy fluctuation exploded from the center of the two combatants, radiating outwards, creating cracks on the ground and the surrounding walls.

At that moment, the spells of the two magicians were also complete. "Fire Dragon Technique," "Water Dragon Spike."

When the fire and water dragons materialized, Ye Han distinctly felt two different temperatures on either side. It was like the heat of summer on the right and the coolness of autumn on the left.

Boom! Two loud noises erupted where Ye Han stood, and a burst of firelight soared.

The people on the streets outside the alley, hearing the immense booming from inside, immediately distanced themselves from the area, not wishing to be affected by the battle. The greatest wish of the commoners was to live a stable life.

"The destructive power of magicians really is much stronger than that of swordsmen of the same rank, but..." Ye Han's voice suddenly came from behind the three.

"Careful, behind you!" the swordsman yelled in shock, warning the two magicians behind him.

"Too late."

Thrust! Ye Han's longsword quickly pierced the heart of the fire magician on the left who hadn't reacted in time. Thump! His left hand then fiercely struck the chest of the water magician on the right.

Ye Han's fist went straight through the chest of the water magician. "Ha!" With a shake of his arm, he tore the water magician in half, blood splattering and staining Ye Han's black robe, making him appear like a demon from hell. With a twist of his right hand, he crushed the heart of the fire magician.

The two magicians died at Ye Han's hand, having barely recovered from releasing a seventh-rank spell.

Thump! Ye Han kicked the fire magician's body fiercely against a wall three zhang away. The wall, already cracked from the explosion of two seventh-rank spells, collapsed instantly, burying the fire magician beneath it.

"Second brother!" The swordsman saw the fire magician killed by Ye Han and his eyes reddened with rage. He gripped his long sword tightly and charged at Ye Han.

"Die!" The swordsman roared, his foot stomping the ground to create a huge crater.

Watching the eighth-rank swordsman propel himself forward, Ye Han smiled lightly under his black robe.

Comparing speed with me? That's courting death.

With a slight shift in position, as the red-glowing long sword almost reached him, Ye Han's figure vanished, leaving only an afterimage shattered by the sword's aura into nothingness.

Feeling the strong wind from behind, the eighth-rank swordsman kicked back without looking, his kick fierce and accompanied by a whooshing sound, aiming precisely at Ye Han who had appeared behind him.

If this kick landed, Ye Han wouldn't need to be a zombie anymore.

With another flicker, his figure disappeared again.

Countless afterimages continuously appeared and vanished in the narrow alley, with all buildings within ten zhang being completely destroyed. The ongoing clash of steel indicated the fierce battle was still underway.

As Ye Han moved swiftly, he sensed the presence of five or six ninth-rank powerhouses approaching. But in that moment of distraction, Ye Han's speed slowed just a fraction.

As an eighth-rank swordsman, accustomed to life-and-death battles, how could he not notice Ye Han's slight falter, and how could he let go of such an opportunity?

As Ye Han hesitated, the eighth-rank swordsman rapidly closed the gap, now less than a zhang away. "Boy, your life ends here. Gale Slash!"

His long sword emitted a fierce red glow, the sword aura like a blazing fire in a strong wind, carving a bright trace through the air as if piercing through space itself, and rapidly shot toward Ye Han a zhang away.

In the black robe, a pair of gray-glowing eyes stared fixedly at the flickering red sword aura.

Ye Han could clearly feel the strength contained within that sword aura. It was strong, very strong.

But Ye Han wasn't concerned. Although he had concealed his true strength, his physical toughness could withstand a full-strength attack from a ninth-rank peak swordsman. Even the mightiest technique from an eighth-rank wouldn't surpass a ninth-rank, let alone reach the destructive power of a Saint-rank.

Still, Ye Han chose to dodge. After all, no one likes to be hit. In an instant, he made his decision.

Relying on the sharp vision of a zombie, Ye Han kept his eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching sword aura. Just as it was about to hit him, Ye Han's figure vanished from the astonished eighth-rank swordsman's gaze.

The fiery sword aura struck a nearby building, causing dust to fly and an explosion that echoed across the sky for a hundred zhang.

The eighth-rank swordsman's eyes were filled with disbelief as his killer move was dodged by the man in the black robe.

"Time's almost up; your turn to go," Ye Han suddenly appeared two zhang behind the eighth-rank swordsman and shot his long sword forward.

Like lightning, the long sword, with a whooshing sound, pierced through the swordsman's chest as he barely turned around.

The surprise in the eighth-rank swordsman's eyes hadn't faded when it was replaced by unwillingness.

"Why you..." A mouthful of fresh blood interrupted his words.

Ye Han walked up to the eighth-rank swordsman, pulled out the long sword from his chest, and a gaudy color dispersed into the air, "Never underestimate your enemy, and you should have never underestimated me," Ye Han said to the swordsman whose life was rapidly fading. As the swordsman was about to fall, Ye Han stretched out his right hand and covered the wound on his chest. Immediately, a pea-sized bead of essence blood appeared in the palm of his hand.

"Ah, the essence blood of an eighth-rank is so little," he said, and then Ye Han's figure disappeared from the spot.

Right after Ye Han vanished, six individuals dressed similarly to the four who had been killed, moved rapidly towards the site of the battle.