Li Sandao lifted the simple, unadorned sword in his hand, the air around him thickening with tension. He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. Then, like the calm before a storm, an overwhelming wave of sword intent surged forth. There were no dazzling lights or dramatic cosmic phenomena — just the pure, concentrated essence of a master's swordsmanship.
This third strike was unlike anything that had come before. It wasn't about power or energy, but the manifestation of absolute mastery. It was a strike crafted from pure intent. In that moment, Li Sandao had transcended ordinary cultivation. With a perfect sword intent, a single slash could dictate the birth and death of all things. Time and space bent to his will; everything in his grasp was a weapon, every thought a potential end for those caught within its reach.
The energy rippled outwards, like water across a still pond, spreading a palpable tension throughout the battlefield. Everyone around, whether fighting or watching from the sidelines, found themselves inexplicably frozen, hearts pounding with an unfamiliar dread.
"What...what is this feeling?" a Da Zhou soldier whispered, frowning as he instinctively gripped his weapon tighter. A primal fear had seized him, something deep and ancient, like a predator lurking just out of sight. He wasn't the only one. Across the battlefield, soldiers faltered, unsure of the source but certain of the danger.
Then came the voice that shattered the tension, ringing through the air like a bell.
"World Destruction — Kill!"
Li Sandao's eyes flew open, and the very fabric of reality seemed to tear. His sword moved, though to an observer, it appeared as nothing more than an ordinary swing. No grand display of energy followed — but in that simplicity lay its terror. In that one strike, the world held its breath.
For a brief moment, time itself seemed to freeze. All that existed was the blade — cold, unyielding, and unstoppable. In the stillness that followed, the world seemed to slow, and then, as if snapping back into motion, sword intent shot skyward, fierce and relentless.
Everyone on the battlefield suddenly found themselves enveloped in the world of the sword. It wasn't visible to the ordinary eye, but to those attuned to such power, the sky was filled with delicate strands of sword intent. Like snowflakes drifting down, beautiful and terrifying. It was a silent slaughter.
A Da Zhou soldier blinked, confused, as a strand of hair drifted in front of him, severed by something invisible. Before he could react, a cold chill bloomed at his neck, followed by a sharp, blinding pain. He gasped, reaching up to stem the flow of blood, but his body failed him, crumpling lifelessly to the ground. And he wasn't alone. All across the battlefield, soldiers fell — victims of a force they could not see, could not fight, and could not escape.
"Careful!" shouted a commander, realizing the truth too late. "A swordmaster of this level is no less dangerous than an Emperor!"
But it was futile. Li Sandao's sword domain had already closed around them. Escape was no longer an option.
As the soldiers of Da Zhou were torn apart in an unseen blizzard of sword strikes, Heiyi, the massive beast-man, roared in defiance. The simplistic, brute instinct inside him was triggered by the looming threat of death. He charged at Li Sandao with a desperate fury, unaware that his end had already been sealed.
Li Sandao's sword, still seemingly ordinary in appearance, was anything but. With this single strike, the heavens and earth bent to his will. Though Heiyi tried to flee, no creature could outrun the sword that transcended time and space. With a blur of motion, Heiyi's massive form was suddenly crisscrossed with fine red lines, blood spurting from the countless cuts that appeared on his flesh.
And then, with a calm that belied the chaos, Li Sandao appeared in Heiyi's path. His back turned to the creature, sword already sheathed, he murmured softly, "It is an honor to die by my blade."
Heiyi, ignorant of his impending demise, raised a colossal hand to strike down the warrior who dared turn his back on him. But before the blow could land, time seemed to halt once more. In a heartbeat, Heiyi's massive form unraveled, torn apart into ribbons of flesh, bone, and sinew.
Li Sandao stood unmoving, his expression unchanged as the wind tugged at his hair, the aftermath of Heiyi's final, futile attack. He had been a spectator to his own victory, already certain of the outcome.
From across the battlefield, Orion, watching the display, couldn't help but raise a hand, offering a thumbs up with a wry smile. "Now that's showing off," he muttered. "Leave it to Li Sandao to make it look easy."
As the battlefield lay in stunned silence, Li Sandao, unbothered, stood calm and composed — the storm having passed, leaving only him in its wake.