Glancing at Yao Ying, Long Hua asks—
“Little girl, any luck with that thing?”
“…Not yet.”
Towards this reply, Long Hua shakes his head.
(*-laoban, don’t use yourself as a measuring standard for others. Unlike you, not everyone wants to be a lone dog for life.)
Following the Tai Xuan Emperor’s remark, the practitioner in the purple robes turns towards Long Hua’s direction with a frown.
(Among these weapon spirits, that’s the only one not doing anything. Is it-?)
“…”
“…?!”
As soon as Long Hua stares back at the purple-robed practitioner with his killing intent fully active, the latter feels a chill creeping down their spine.
“…”
Faster than the purple-robed practitioner could hope to react, Long Hua takes out his fishing rod, and casts his line out.
Weaving through the crowd, the line wraps itself around the purple-robed practitioner’s neck, and upon having him hooked, Long Hua pulls his arm back.
“…?!”
Sensing his feet having left the ground, the purple-robed practitioner widens his eyes, as he momentarily finds himself hitting the ground—chest first.
“…”
Pressing one foot down on the practitioner’s back, Long Hua grabs their arm, and—
*Siiii!* in an effortless manner, Long Hua tears the arm right out of its socket.
“Aaaaaaaahhh!!!”
The miserable shriek of the purple-robed practitioner causes everyone to turn their gaze towards the source of this commotion.
“…”
As the practitioner’s blood splashes onto her face, Yao Ying widens her eyes in shock.
“Tian Cheng.”
“Un.”
Nodding her head, Tian Cheng takes out a sharp kitchen knife, and places it in Yao Ying’s right hand.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“…?”
Still in shock, Yao Ying glances between Long Hua and Tian Cheng with confusion.
“…”
With a bored look on his face, Long Hua commands Yao Ying to—
“Kill this worthless thing.”
Hearing this, Yao Ying takes a step back, and just as she is about to loosen her grip on the knife—
“You’re not allowed to drop that knife.”
In response to the frigid tone that Long Hua had used, Yao Ying tightened her grip on the knife.
Rising off the stool, and storing the calabash away, Long Hua stomps his foot down twice—crippling the purple-robed practitioner’s legs.
“Tian Cheng, keep an eye on her.”
“Understood, master.”
Summoning the White Serpent King, Long Hua has it take on the form of bulky gauntlets, and without turning to Yao Ying, he mutters—
“The path you want to walk will be similar to this.”
Kicking off the ground, Long Hua approaches the nearest practitioner, and reaching his right hand outwards, he grabs the practitioner by their face.
Having augmented the strength of his physical body with the elixir and the evolution system, Long Hua has been itching to test his flesh and blood body’s current limits out.
“…”
Rapidly applying more pressure onto the practitioner’s head—
“Uh…!”
Similarly to a fruit, the practitioner’s head is crushed, causing blood to spew outwards.
(Compared to before… I suppose, the increase is at least noticeable?)
Shaking off the blood on his hand, and unleashing his killing intent completely, Long Hua causes the weaker-willed individuals—regardless of friend or foe, to soften their knees.
“…”
Approaching another practitioner, Long Hua punches through their abdomen with a single strike, and showing no signs of pausing, he rapidly kills off a few more practitioners in varying ways—to demonstrate to Yao Ying all the methods that can be used to kill a living creature.
“…”
“…!”
Appearing in front of the final Foundation Establishment realm practitioner, Long Hua pierces his hands into the individual’s chest, and prying his arms to the side, he effortlessly tears them in half.
“…The hell is that thing?”
“That’s a weapon spirit?”
“This shouldn’t be possible…”
Only catching up to the situation now, the three Core Formation realm practitioners turn pale, and with evident dread in their eyes, they immediately turn tail to flee.
Compared to Qing Ming Yang and Lin Yu Heng, both of whom possessed plenty of combat experience, most of the practitioners that had been brought into the Leng Bing Realm this time—are those that have yet to be baptized by the harshness of combat.
“…”
Witnessing what had just happened in the span of a few short breaths’ worth of time, the purple-robed practitioner has completely forgotten about the pain that is emanating from his wound.
His greatest regret at this time was to have led his group here, and had been idiotic enough to make eye contact with Long Hua.
“Y-You, who are you…? You can’t possibly be a weapon spirit, you’re…-!”
“…”
Dismissing the White Serpent King, and closing the distance, Long Hua takes hold of Yao Ying’s hand by her wrist, and—
“…!”
Dragging her onto her knees, Long Hua borrows the knife that she is holding onto—to stab the purple-robed practitioner’s back.
“Aaaahh!”
Having made sure to not stab through any of the vital organs, Long Hua repeats the act continuously.
“Aah! Aaaaahhh! Aaaarrggghh!!!”
“…”
Amidst this act of violence, the practitioner screams like a pig that is being butchered alive, while Yao Ying can only numbingly hold the kitchen knife in her right hand—as if her life depended on it.
Eventually—
“Huuh…!”
The kitchen knife stabs through the practitioner’s heart—causing him to raise a sharp gasp.
“…”
Finally relinquishing her grip on the knife, Yao Ying looks down at her bloodstained hand, which is currently trembling uncontrollably.
And judging by the warmth that she is feeling on her face, she must be thoroughly covered in this corpse’s blood.