Martial Arts Master: The Lin Family Sword God, who swept through the Five Mountains and Four Sects

When the longsword was held three feet in front of Lin Tian, ​​he suddenly met the other's eyes—there was no wariness, no hesitation, only indifference, as if looking down at an insignificant ant.

At that moment, he unleashed his trump card! But even as the sword energy approached, Lin Tian stood with his hands behind his back, not even blinking.

Xuan Jian finally panicked... This man was not arrogant, nor was he bluffing!

He could hear sparrows chirping ten miles away and discern the rise and fall of a heartbeat three feet away, but at this moment, Lin Tian's breathing and pulse were completely unpredictable—terrifyingly still.

It's too quiet...so quiet it's suffocating!

Lin Tian's counterattack was so fast that he didn't even have time to think about it.

Even the black sword that had been drinking blood with him for thirty years seemed to tremble slightly at this moment, and its blade felt cold.

Swords possess a spirit, but the intent of a sword originates from the human heart. It was Lin Tian himself who instilled fear in Xuan Jian and made the Black Sword cower.

The instant Lin Tian effortlessly broke through all his life's skills, and then pressed the tip of his sword against his throat—

Xuan Jian finally understood: what he had provoked was not an opponent, but an abyss.

Even so, a sense of resentment still churned within him.

So he had to get this job done—a cold glint flashed from his sleeve, and a poisoned needle shot straight for the King of Han's throat! He was certain that everyone's attention was focused on the scene, and he was only three steps away from the King of Han. This strike would be like a thunderbolt, leaving no chance of survival.

He was certain that Lin Tian had no chance of stopping him, and didn't even have time to think about it!

That speed was beyond the reach of flesh and blood. If it weren't for the arrival of gods and demons, who could stop it?

But the instant Lin Tian lightly pinched the flying needle between two fingers, and the needle tip hovered only half an inch from Han Wang's throat, Hei Bai Xuan Jian felt all his strength drain away, and his internal organs sank down—he had lost, completely and utterly, to this monster before him, whose aura was overwhelming and whose actions were like divine punishment.

Such a swordsmanship exists in the world? Black and White Xuanjian's mind was in turmoil, but he already understood: the great power had collapsed and the fire in his heart had been extinguished.

Suddenly, Lin Tian drew his fingers together, and an invisible sword aura wrapped around him like an ice lock, instantly sealing off his meridians, causing his internal energy to dissipate, and his limbs to stiffen like stone sculptures.

Black and White Xuanjian's eyes were bloodshot, and his heart was burning with rage—he would rather commit suicide by sword than kneel and suffer humiliation!

He was a swordsman; if his sword broke, his life would end; if the scabbard was empty, his soul would depart.

The war god before him crushed him into dust with a mere wave of his hand. He had already closed his eyes and awaited death, never expecting to become a prisoner—a humiliating disgrace!

He didn't bother asking Lin Tian what methods he had used! Seeing the other party remain silent, his anger intensified, his eyes bulged, and he roared like tearing silk: "What kind of evil magic did you use?! I am a swordsman, I would rather die than be dishonored! This is not swordsmanship, it's sorcery! Let me go! Let's fight three hundred more times, today it's either you or me who dies!"

"Heh... A defeated general, dares to talk about rounds?" Lin Tian's lips curled slightly as he glanced at the face that was clenching its teeth and looking as if it wanted to tear him apart, and coldly uttered four words: "Still lacking in experience."

"Han Fei, I have other arrangements for this person. Please escort him along." Before he finished speaking, Lin Tian had already turned around and started walking. His robes fluttered as he calmly walked among the civil and military officials in the hall. No one dared to stop him, and no one dared to speak.

The Korean king and his ministers stood frozen in place, exchanging bewildered glances, holding their breath. Even the armored soldiers carrying halberds instinctively made way for them.

For some reason, with each step he took forward, a layer of cold sweat would seep down everyone's backs; only when his figure disappeared into the distance did that heavy oppression slowly dissipate.

That was true oppressive power—no need for glaring, no need to draw a sword, its mere aura was like a thousand pounds pressing down. Even the emperor himself would find it difficult to possess such an innate and awe-inspiring presence. Ying Zheng remained calm, merely nodding slightly to King Han An: "King Han, what you say is exactly what I mean; my meaning is the meaning of Great Qin."

He then bowed respectfully and said, "Today's banquet was absolutely wonderful. King Han, please take good care of yourself and rest well. Do not disturb your peace of mind. Farewell."

Ying Zheng turned and left. The women of Zilan Pavilion understood and quietly withdrew. Only Han Fei gazed at his father, King Han An, for a long time, letting out a silent sigh that seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.

He then turned to Zhang Liang and said, "Zifang, send a hundred elite guards to escort this man to Zilan Pavilion."

Zhang Liang clasped his hands in a fist salute and bowed, his voice clear and resonant: "Yes, sir!"

The iron chains clanged, the shackles were heavy, and the soldiers worked together to bind and carry away the stiff and motionless Hei Bai Xuan Jian. Han Fei then left, leaving only the Han court full of civil and military officials, and King Han An, who sat slumped on his couch, his face pale and silent for a long time.

"Alas... the Qin state has probably been plotting this all along." An old minister sighed softly, his words like a stone thrown into still water, but they stirred up a murmur throughout the hall.

As the murmurs grew louder, Han Wang'an, supported by Han Yu and Hu Meiren, managed to sit up straight, the veins on his forehead still throbbing.

He slammed his fist on the table, his fierce gaze fixed on Blood-Clad Marquis Bai Yifei: "Bai Yifei! This is the 'sword master' you recommended? Are you trying to kill me?! And what kind of grand state banquet is this?! What kind of idea is this?! The Han dynasty has lost all face, and the ruler of the country has become a laughingstock! What is your punishment?!"

"Your subject...willing to accept the severe punishment!" Bai Yifei bowed his head in response, his face respectful, but inwardly he sneered like a knife: "Well done, Lin Tian! Truly the world's number one killing god!"

As for King An of Han—he had already calculated that this king would ultimately not dare to touch him in the slightest.

Han Yu, seemingly intentionally or unintentionally, leaned close to his father's ear and whispered, "My younger brother... is indeed getting closer and closer to the Qin state."

The entire court fell silent instantly. King Han An's pupils contracted sharply, his eyebrows shot up, and he kicked over the table, sending splinters flying.

"Dismiss the court! Return to the palace!"

The king of Han, An, a legitimate heir of the Han dynasty, could only grit his teeth and remain silent. But beneath that silence, undercurrents were already surging—resentment towards Han Fei was quietly taking root, and hatred for the Qin state was burning in his heart!

The assassin terrified him, but the Qin state and the person who taught Ying Zheng filled him with shame and indignation, driving him to the brink of madness!

"Your Majesty, please calm down~" Hu Meiren coaxed softly, her eyes sparkling with allure.

King Han An slammed his fist on the table: "I've raised a fine son! Lin Tian... he deserves to die!"

"I'm letting you go—but you must return within three days." Lin Tian's voice was calm, yet every word was firm and resolute.

"What?" Hei Bai Xuan Jian's pupils shrank suddenly.

"What else do you want to do? Instead of assassinating Ying Zheng, you want to counterattack the King of Han? Do you really think I can't see through your thoughts? In three days, you will come to beg me. Whether you agree or not depends entirely on how sincere you kneel and how desperately you beg. The invisible sword energy on your body will dissipate on its own then; your meridians will be cleared and your internal energy will be restored. As for the final choice... the path is under your feet, you walk it yourself."

These were the words Lin Tian uttered in a low voice as he raised his hand and shattered Xuan Jian's shackles in front of Zi Lan Xuan.

Xuan Jian immediately bowed down, his forehead pounding heavily on the ground—

Boom!Boom!Boom!

Three muffled thuds, and the skin on his forehead was torn open, with fresh blood trickling down his brow bone.

Without even raising his head, he snatched the black and white swords from the soldier's hand, turned and ran, his steps as swift as the wind, unable to wait.

Han Fei did not stop him, but Ying Zheng was slightly taken aback and couldn't help but ask, "What is your intention in doing this, sir?"

"To fulfill his wish and also to leave myself a way out." Lin Tian's scheme came to an end. Although he misjudged Xuan Jian's assassination target, he had also succeeded halfway—the final chapter of this game had to be decided by Xuan Jian. Lin Tian did not urge or pressure him, but waited quietly for the contract to be finalized. If it really came to pass, he could leave one day with one less burden on his shoulders.

Zilanxuan, perhaps from now on there will be no more worries.