Chapter 109: On the Warship (Part-8)

Just moments ago, the male examinee had been holding the hand of the fallen female examinee. Their fingers were tightly intertwined, knuckles pale, as they grit their teeth and whispered encouragement to each other, vowing to survive together no matter what happened.

Then, in the blink of an eye, a short blade whistled through the air.

It pierced straight through the woman’s head.

Her body stiffened, her grip loosened, and she collapsed without even a chance to scream. Life vanished instantly.

The man froze.

His world was shattered in that single moment. Despair swallowed him whole, draining every last trace of will from his body.

When the masked warrior stepped before him, blade raised, the man did not react. He neither fled nor resisted. His eyes were empty, as if his soul had already left.

The masked warrior showed no mercy.

With a swift slash, the man’s head was severed, following his shattered faith into nothingness.

Without the protection of the Western Mansion experts, the candidates from the thirty-six cities were no different from ants beneath a blade. They died in clusters, fragile and helpless, crushed at will.

Yet death has a way of forcing clarity.

Faced with annihilation, the surviving candidates finally woke up.

They understood that begging would not save them, and fleeing alone would only hasten their deaths. Groups began to form, gathering around the stronger candidates, uniting in desperate resistance against the masked warriors.

Surprisingly, it worked.

Several small groups managed to hold off five or six masked warriors at once. Though the masked warriors were Exalt-rank experts, even they could be overwhelmed by numbers. For a brief moment, the slaughter slowed, and casualties decreased.

Then a scream cut through the chaos.

“Save me! Please, someone, save me!”

The cry came from a young woman.

She was stunningly beautiful, her long hair flowing like a waterfall down her back, her delicate features resembling a carefully carved masterpiece. Compared to Mu Xianling, she was even more striking, though still not quite on the level of Li Xue or Shangguan Siyu.

At that moment, she was fleeing in panic, chased closely by a masked warrior. Her steps were unsteady, her face pale with terror, and despair filled her eyes as the distance between them rapidly closed.

She cried out again, her voice trembling, clinging to the faint hope that someone might come to her aid.

Under normal circumstances, no one would have dared.

Facing a masked warrior alone was suicide. No candidate present could match one head-on.

But this woman was no ordinary candidate.

She was Mi Lu, the cherished daughter of the Mi Clan patriarch of Luyue City, known throughout the northern district as the number one beauty of the thirty-six cities. Not only was her appearance breathtaking, but her talent was equally exceptional. She had ranked first in Luyue City during the qualification exam, and her cultivation had already reached the six-star Elite.

Such a woman was the dream of countless young men.

When Mi Lu cried for help, several candidates rushed forward without hesitation, throwing caution and reason to the wind.

Heroes fall for beauty, and at this moment, that saying was painfully true.

Unfortunately, courage alone was meaningless.

The masked warrior’s sword danced through the air, forming a storm of cold light. The would-be heroes did not even have time to scream before their bodies were riddled with wounds. One by one, they collapsed, lifeless, onto the deck.

Had they chosen to retreat, they might have lived longer, perhaps even reached the gates of Western Mansion. Instead, blinded by desire and bravado, they rushed toward a fate they were never strong enough to face.

The heart may love beauty, but only those with the strength to protect it can afford such feelings.

After cutting down the last obstruction, the masked warrior resumed his pursuit. The distance between him and Mi Lu shrank rapidly.

“Help me!”

Mi Lu screamed again, her voice filled with fear and despair. She was young, beautiful, and talented. She did not want to die here, not like this, not before her life had even truly begun.

This time, someone else stepped forward.

Bai Ye.

Once hailed as the foremost genius of the thirty-six cities and one of Mi Lu’s admirers, Bai Ye finally acted. Gritting his teeth, he rushed out, unwilling to watch her die before his eyes.

“Green Feather Flying Sword Art!”

With a shout, Bai Ye hurled his long sword into the air. His hands formed intricate seals in rapid succession, movements so complex they dazzled the eye. The sword responded instantly, soaring and spinning through the air with remarkable agility.

Under its dance, a massive character formed from pure energy, glowing brightly.

“Xiang!”

At Bai Ye’s command, the enormous energy character shot toward the masked warrior.

This was one of Bai Ye’s strongest techniques, a top-grade Sky-rank martial art, renowned even among techniques of the same rank. During his battle with Ryan, he had been unable to use it due to a lack of a weapon. Now, it was unleashed without hesitation.

Even if it could not kill the masked warrior, Bai Ye believed it could slow him down.

As the attack flew forward, Bai Ye sprinted toward Mi Lu, hoping to seize the moment and pull her to safety.

The plan was flawless.

The execution was not.

The masked warrior shattered the incoming attack with ease, breaking through it almost effortlessly. Without slowing in the slightest, he continued advancing.

Bai Ye froze for an instant, disbelief flashing across his face, then clenched his teeth and rushed forward anyway.

“Miss Mi, I’ll protect you!”

He placed himself directly in front of her, standing firm, prepared to fight.

Two outstanding geniuses now faced the masked warrior together. If they joined forces and held on long enough, perhaps help would arrive. Perhaps they could survive.

But the moment Bai Ye stepped in front of her, Mi Lu did not hesitate.

She turned and ran.

Without a word, without a backward glance, she fled, leaving Bai Ye alone before the approaching masked warrior.

In her eyes, Bai Ye was nothing more than a shield, a disposable obstacle meant to buy her a few more seconds of life.

The scene stunned not only the candidates watching from afar, but Bai Ye himself as well.

He had never imagined that the woman he rushed out to save would be so cold-blooded. He had risked his life for her, yet she abandoned him without hesitation, fleeing the moment she had the chance. The chill that rose in his heart was far colder than the blade before him.

Regret came too late.

The masked warrior’s sword was already descending.

With a sharp whistle, the long blade tore through the air. Bai Ye raised his sword in desperation, pouring every last bit of strength into the block.

Clang!

The impact was overwhelming.

A terrifying force surged through his arms, shattering his defense in an instant. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body was blasted backward. He slammed heavily onto the deck, bones cracking, organs trembling. With a single strike, the nine-star Upper Elite like Bai Ye was rendered completely powerless.

The masked warrior advanced step by step, sword glinting with cold intent.

If Mi Lu had stayed, even for a moment, even to fight together, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps they could have bought enough time to survive.

Bai Ye turned his head weakly.

Mi Lu was already gone, hidden among the fleeing crowd, safe for the moment. From beginning to end, she never once looked back. Bai Ye’s life and death meant nothing to her.

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

How ridiculous.

For a woman like that, he had gambled his life.

Closing his eyes, Bai Ye gave up resistance and waited for death.

The masked warrior raised his sword.

Then, suddenly, a flash of cold light cut through the air.

Before anyone could react, the masked warrior’s head flew skyward.

The headless body collapsed heavily onto the deck, the severed head rolling a short distance before coming to a stop.

Bai Ye froze.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The masked warrior was gone.

Instead, a familiar, irritatingly calm face entered his vision.

“It’s you?” Bai Ye said hoarsely.

“It’s me,” Ryan replied with a faint smile.

There was no doubt about it. Ryan had saved him.

Ryan walked over unhurriedly, Mu Xianling and the others following closely behind him. Despite the chaos and slaughter raging across the warship, this small group moved as if danger did not exist.

Another masked warrior noticed them and charged.

Ryan didn’t even pause. With a casual flick of his blade, a streak of light flashed.

The masked warrior stiffened, then collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.

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