Without even a shred of resistance, a powerhouse of the same realm was dismembered right before everyone's eyes.
By the time people snapped out of it, their scalps were already tingling.
Such blade technique—utterly terrifying.
The blade itself couldn't even be seen. Yet the target had already been dismembered. A mighty mummy at the Life Aperture Realm, struck down with just a few moves—one slash to flay the skin, another to slice the flesh, a third to sever the tendons, and a fourth to strip the bones. A top-tier expert was just butchered like livestock.
There was a strange kind of blade intent within his strikes—one that made people feel like livestock in front of a slaughterer. Their bodies went stiff, overwhelmed by fear. They simply couldn't resist.
"Where my butcher's blade points—all are but swine and sheep!!"The butcher twirled his blade, slid it back into his waist holster, and spoke calmly.
At that moment, a surge of destiny energy gathered out of thin air and flowed into his body. Even the butcher himself felt an unprecedented clarity in mind, and a massive amount of energy fused into his flesh and blood. His physique visibly strengthened, and his latent potential subtly increased.
"There really are benefits to this,"the butcher murmured in surprise, sensing the transformation within him.
"You're Pao Ding, aren't you?"Yi Tianxing asked as the butcher returned, his tone more certain than questioning. He was already ninety percent sure.
"Mm. I'm Pao Ding,"the butcher grinned and nodded.
"It really is him. No wonder—no wonder his blade techniques are so terrifying. Just four cuts to dismantle a mummy. If he's Pao Ding, that explains everything. In terms of blade mastery, he's undoubtedly among the most fearsome in the world."
The watching crowd sighed with realization, their faces filled with understanding.
Pao Ding's blade technique was forged not through instruction or theory, but through endless killing. Pure, unrelenting slaughter—refined through dismemberment. Every stroke of the blade aimed to cleave life apart. In his eyes, all enemies were pigs and sheep—born to be butchered. Killing had become second nature.
Yi Tianxing recalled a story about Pao Ding.
Once, Pao Ding had butchered an ox for a king. With each cut, bone and flesh separated cleanly.
The king, intrigued, asked,
"How can your technique be so incredible? With every stroke, you flay, debone, and separate flesh so cleanly—not a scrap of meat remains on the bones."
Pao Ding had paused, set down his blade, and replied:
"I seek the Tao, not merely the craft of butchery. At first, I saw the ox whole. After three years, I began to see its inner structure—muscles, bones, and sinew. Now, I don't even use my eyes—my spirit guides the blade.I follow the natural gaps in the body, slicing through spaces between joints and bones. I never cut where muscle clings to bone or where ligaments converge. My blade has lasted nineteen years, butchered thousands of oxen, and still slices as if freshly honed."
Pao Ding's technique wasn't merely about surface cuts—it could instantly perceive internal blood flow, meridians, and muscle movements. With a single strike, he could locate a weakness and dismember his opponent effortlessly.
Now, with Yi Tianxing's keen eyes, it was clear: Pao Ding's blade path had surpassed mere butchery. All living beings—man or beast—were potential prey. As long as he saw a weakness, not even divine beasts could escape dismemberment.
This blade technique existed solely to kill.
Pao Ding returned calmly, unfazed by having dismembered a powerful mummy. His temperament had long been honed through years of slaughter, polished to a razor's edge.
His strength wasn't just the result of technique.
In the era of world fusion, he too had encountered a stroke of fortune. From the start, he obtained a cultivation method called the Blood-Drinking Soul-Slaughtering Scripture ("噬血屠灵经"). This top-tier cultivation art allowed him to absorb energy through killing. Every beast slain granted him a trace of essence blood, enhancing his cultivation and magical power.
Thus, even while working as a butcher, Pao Ding's strength grew rapidly. Within just two years, he had advanced from an ordinary man to a Life Aperture Realm expert. Coupled with his unparalleled blade techniques, there were few in the same realm who could contend with him.
He didn't flaunt his strength, nor did he seek the spotlight. He believed in growing stronger quietly.
Everything else was illusion.
But even so, when the time came, he stepped forward without hesitation.
"Good blade technique,"the Drunkard nodded approvingly, his eyes gleaming with clarity despite his usual haze.
"Good drunkard,"Pao Ding laughed in return.
"Let me handle the third match,"said the Drunkard, swaying his way up to the arena, still clutching his wine gourd like it was his lifeblood.
"Which of you will face me?"
His drunken eyes gazed lazily across the field.
"A drunkard? I'll send you on your way."
A corpse priest coldly stepped forward. Clad in black robes and wielding a bone staff, he raised it and cast a green light streaking toward the Drunkard—a toxic arrow brimming with chlorine-like poison.
Corpse Poison Life Aperture – Rotting Corpse Venom Arrow!!
It was a divine power, amplified by the bone staff to be at least thirty percent stronger than normal. Magic staffs enhanced all kinds of spells—they weren't required to cast magic, but greatly increased its power.
"Such a vicious arrow."
The Drunkard, seemingly dazed, suddenly exhaled a mouthful of wine vapor.
BOOM!!
That vapor ignited into a blue flame, carrying the sharp scent of alcohol. As it met the venom arrow, the flame revealed its terrifying nature—it slowed the arrow, dragging it down like quicksand. The green toxin burned away into ashes within the flame.
Wine Flame Life Aperture – Flame of the Bottle!!
This strange flame was born of wine, and fed by it. Its temperature was fearsome, its behavior even more so. Like a parasite, once it touched something, it clung and devoured—unstoppable, even by water. It carried the explosive power of liquor, with sparks that could burst into small detonations.
But the corpse priest wasn't shaken.
He spun his staff again:
Bone Spear!!
White Bone Prison!!
Corpse Fire!!
A torrent of divine arts surged forward. Bones formed a prison around the Drunkard. Bone spears targeted his vital points. Corpse fire rained down from above.
"Bring it on!!"
The Drunkard swayed as he moved, seemingly on the verge of collapsing. But in that staggering dance, every spear narrowly missed—hitting only his sleeves or grazing his coat.
Only a fool would think this was coincidence.
SPLASH!!
He took another swig of wine, then spat it out like a torrential storm. The falling corpse fire was instantly extinguished. The splashed wine fell like sharp blades, and where it touched the corpse priest, blue flames burst forth.
Even the corpse aura couldn't smother the fire—it was ignited instead. The arena floor became a sea of flames, lit by the spilled liquor.