The monsters revealing their true forms underwent various transformations. Some grew yellow fur, with green eyes glowing like emeralds. Others developed thickened skin or sprouted sharp horns. Each displayed distinct monster traits. Wielding their favored weapons—daggers, massive axes, and flexible swords—their power was evident. Their speeds varied, yet even the slower ones left phantom images in the air, their quickness unimaginable.


    One among them transformed into a mist, its true form elusive and sinister. Another vanished entirely, drawing a gasp from the robed elder nearby. "Invisibility? How do we fight this? These monsters are terrifying!"


    The yellow-robed, portly man, Chu Yong, gave the command but stood at ease, observing from a distance. "My seven subordinates are no pushovers. Together, they''ll surely expose this mysterious expert’s strengths and weaknesses."


    In a battle between experts, the smallest detail could determine victory.


    Understanding the opponent could provide a critical advantage.


    "Seven?" Qin Yun stood still, unmoved.


    “Swish! Swish! Swish!”


    In a flash, he drew his sword, only to sheath it again in one fluid motion.


    A cold gleam streaked through the air like serpentine lightning. The five charging monsters dropped to the ground, lifeless. The eerie mist solidified, revealing the corpse of a leopard, while a female figure in midair also collapsed, reverting to a snow weasel. The seven monsters, now in their true forms—wolves, leopards, and others—lay dead on the ground, their weapons clattering loudly.


    The robed elder and the pink-robed woman stood frozen, pale with shock.


    “They’re dead? All seven monsters… in an instant?” The elder''s voice trembled. “His sword… I couldn’t even see it!”


    “What incredible speed! Did you use a mystical eye technique to break the invisibility spell?”


    Chu Yong, the yellow-robed man, spoke in a deep tone, “No wonder you dared to intrude alone. But entering my domain was the gravest mistake you’ve ever made.”


    He slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne. The force was tremendous, causing the armrest to collapse with a crack. The walls of the grand hall began to shift, revealing countless holes in the walls and ceiling.


    “This is bad,” the elder muttered, his face turning pale with despair.


    “Master…” the pink-robed woman whimpered, hopeless.


    Chu Yong grinned menacingly as his head morphed into a grotesque pig’s snout. Thick bristles sprouted across his body as he grew to over ten feet tall. His clothes shredded from the rapid transformation.


    With a sudden whoosh, dark projectiles, each the size of a palm, shot out from every hole in the walls and ceiling. The black rain of poisoned spikes covered the entire hall, leaving no place to hide—even Chu Yong himself stood amidst the deadly assault.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The elder and the pink-robed woman were instantly pierced, their bodies riddled with holes. They died on the spot, despair frozen in their eyes.


    Thunk thunk thunk…


    The projectiles pierced stone tables with ease, leaving deep holes in the solid stone floors.


    “This trap, designed for true experts, makes my underground palace impregnable,” Chu Yong remarked, watching intently.


    Qin Yun, however, walked forward unhurriedly.


    His pace varied slightly: a fraction faster, and a spike would graze his robe; a fraction slower, and another would narrowly miss his chest. Sometimes he tilted left to let one skim past his ear, or right to avoid one brushing his neck.


    Though the spikes came from all directions, Qin Yun moved as if he had eyes in the back of his head, dodging them effortlessly.


    “How is this possible?” Chu Yong’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He dodged the spikes coming from behind him! Can he… sense them?”


    Indeed, Qin Yun had expanded his spiritual awareness, enveloping a radius of fifteen feet around him. Within this range, nothing escaped his perception—not even the tiniest speck of dust. With this buffer, evading the spikes became second nature.


    Even the rare ones that proved tricky to dodge were casually deflected with a flick of his hand.


    In less than a breath, the storm of spikes ceased. The hall fell silent, riddled with holes.


    Chu Yong brushed off the spikes embedded in his thick bristles, sending them clattering to the floor.


    “Impressive,” Qin Yun said calmly. “You’ve got thick skin, befitting a wild boar.”


    Chu Yong sneered. “Your dodging is extraordinary. You’ve reached the pinnacle of flawlessness, haven’t you? Spiritual projection… just shy of becoming one with nature. I didn’t expect such a master to show up here.”


    He grabbed an iron pillar beside the throne, effortlessly wielding the thirteen-foot-long column. It seemed as light to him as a simple stick. Twirling it casually, he whipped up gusts of wind, the sheer force terrifying. “A high realm doesn’t guarantee strength! I’ve slain plenty of human experts more advanced than me.”


    With that, he charged, swinging the iron pillar in a horizontal arc. The crushing blow seemed unstoppable, powerful enough to kill with a mere graze.


    “Whoosh.”


    Qin Yun ducked swiftly, dodging the deadly sweep. In the same motion, his sword flashed.


    Clang!


    The blade grazed Chu Yong’s thick fur, struggling against its resistance. By the time it reached his skin, the blade barely left a pale scratch.


    “Too thick!” Qin Yun muttered, dodging yet another strike from Chu Yong’s iron pillar.


    Time and again, Qin Yun darted around Chu Yong, unleashing slashes and thrusts. Each attack fell short, penetrating mere inches into the boar demon’s hide.


    “Haha! I told you, high realms don’t mean strong attacks,” Chu Yong boomed. “Your sword can’t pierce my skin! One hit from me, and you’re finished.”


    “Thick skin indeed,” Qin Yun smirked. “But it’s time for you to see my ‘Misty Rain Sword.’ This is a technique I created myself.”


    “Self-created?” Chu Yong laughed. “A proper technique takes years to hone. What can yours do?”


    “You’ll see.”


    Qin Yun advanced, his sword glowing faintly. Chu Yong lunged with the iron pillar, but Qin Yun weaved past it, his blade trailing a misty glow, light as a drizzle in spring.


    “Clang.”


    The sword struck the iron pillar, deflecting it slightly. The misty blade spiraled forward, slipping past Chu Yong’s defenses.


    Swoosh.


    A clean slash separated Chu Yong’s upper body from his lower, blood gushing everywhere.


    Qin Yun calmly sheathed his sword.


    “How… how is this possible?” Chu Yong gasped, his body reverting to its boar form. “You couldn’t even scratch me before. Yet one strike… This sword technique… ‘Misty Rain Sword’… was it really your creation?”


    “Yes,” Qin Yun nodded.


    Chu Yong’s eyes filled with disbelief and anger. “You killed me… for Qin An? Who are you?”


    Qin Yun stared at him coldly. “Yes, I killed you for Qin An. Because I… am his brother.”