Mythical Cultivation

As he spoke, Wu Ming flicked his right hand gently, and a dazzling golden light instantly rose from above his head, transforming into a radiant sword—his magical weapon, the Golden Light Sword. The sword hovered in the air, emitting a terrifyingly powerful aura, as if it could roar out at any moment and deliver a fatal blow to the enemy.

Despite this, Wu Ming maintained his outward courtesy and politeness. After all, he knew full well that he couldn't resort to violence without first clarifying the truth. While anyone masked in the middle of the night was likely a bad person, there were always exceptions, and he didn't want to kill an innocent person. Therefore, he decided to make his point clear first; it wouldn't be too late to make a decision once he understood the details.

The man across from him, completely covered in a black mask, initially held onto a glimmer of hope. He secretly wondered if this nosy person was simply passing through and had decided to meddle in other people's affairs. However, when he heard the other person actually demand proof that he wasn't a member of the Zheng family, he felt like being struck by lightning. He cursed inwardly, "What kind of nonsense is that? It's completely unreasonable. How can you ask such a thing?"

So, the masked man hurriedly clasped his fists in greeting and said humbly, "My fellow Daoist, I am truly only planning to leave the city to handle some personal matters. I am definitely not the Zheng cultivator you think I am. I am merely a small, wandering cultivator without any sect or school. I beg you to show some mercy and spare my life."

Wu Ming, standing opposite, raised the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a barely perceptible sly smile, and responded slowly, "Oh? You say you're not a cultivator of the Zheng family? Well, in that case, you'll have to produce some evidence to convince me. Otherwise, how about this, tear off that rag from your face and let me get a good look at your true form. Hehe, by chance, I happen to have an atlas of the Zheng family here. Just compare it with the one here and I'll know for sure!"

In fact, Wu Ming was just trying to bluff the other side. There were thousands of Zheng clan cultivators, but no one was willing to make a roster specifically for them.

"Okay, I'll take off my mask right now. Fellow Daoist, please move a little closer so I can give you a better view." The masked man said as he slowly moved towards Wu Ming's direction. At the same time, his right hand seemed to casually raise, as if he was really about to tear off the mysterious mask on his face.

At that moment, Wu Ming suddenly felt a sharp sword energy coming towards him. He looked closely and saw that the masked man had no intention of removing his mask. Instead, he took this opportunity to suddenly activate his flying sword, piercing his chest like lightning! The sword came with such swiftness that anyone else would have been unable to dodge it.

Fortunately, Wu Ming had been prepared. How could he let this man succeed so easily? In a flash, Wu Ming flicked his wrist, and a dazzling golden light shot out from his hand. It was the Golden Sword he had wielded! Like a golden dragon, the sword slashed downward with unparalleled force, meeting the masked man's thrusting sword squarely.

There was a loud clang as the two flying swords collided violently in mid-air, emitting countless dazzling sparks and a sharp hissing sound. For a moment, the surrounding air seemed to tremble slightly from the powerful impact.

Wu Ming's golden sword was clearly incredibly powerful, intercepting the masked man's flying sword. The masked man's sword was sent flying backwards, its blade humming, clearly suffering considerable damage.

After his successful attack, Wu Ming didn't hesitate. With a thought, he transformed the golden sword into a stream of light, slashing at the masked figure with lightning speed. At that moment, he was certain that this elusive attacker must be a member of the Zheng family. Since the other party had already struck first, he would show no mercy!

Faced with Wu Ming's fierce attack, the masked man's face changed drastically, and he shouted angrily, "You thief, there is no hatred between us in the past or in the present, why do you insist on killing me?"

At that moment, the other party had seen through his disguise. He secretly cried out in disbelief, but now that the situation had come to a head, he could not afford to hesitate. He acted decisively and immediately activated the Zheng family's long-standing foundational technique—the Thick Earth Technique. As the technique was activated, his aura suddenly shifted, and a powerful force surged from his body. Then, he formed a seal with his hands, muttered something, and directed the flying sword in his hand towards Wu Ming like lightning.

In this dark night, his bright yellow true energy, which was as rich as substance, emitted a dazzling light. From a distance, it looked like a bright golden sun hanging in the sky, which could not be ignored.

The masked man's full-strength attack was unleashed before Wu Ming's eyes. After careful observation, Wu Ming knew for sure that this man was undoubtedly a member of the Zheng clan, and his cultivation had already reached the late stage of Qi Refining. Facing this formidable opponent, Wu Ming showed no disdain. His gaze was cold, and he spoke sparingly, "The mission requires it, so I must borrow your life!"

Before he finished speaking, he unleashed his unique skill—the Sword Light Splitting Technique—without hesitation. In an instant, hundreds of incredibly sharp sword beams materialized from thin air, each gleaming with a chilling brilliance, as if threatening to rip the very fabric of heaven and earth apart. These sword beams slashed towards the masked figure opposite them with overwhelming force, their speed as swift as the wind, leaving the opponent no time to react.

The masked man's face suddenly changed when he saw so many powerful sword lights whizzing towards him. But at this moment, he had no way to retreat and could only grit his teeth and fight with all his might.

However, even for a typical ninth-level Qi Refining cultivator without a superior defensive artifact, resisting this overwhelming onslaught of sword light would be a pipe dream. Furthermore, he was merely an ordinary seventh-level Qi Refining disciple. Although he possessed a low-grade defensive artifact, it held out for only a few breaths before being easily shattered by the terrifying sword light. Countless sword beams then pierced his body, instantly turning him into a sieve. The masked figure's eyes widened, filled with resentment and despair, before he slowly collapsed, suffocating.