My Auto Cloning System-Chapter 111: The Holy Devil 2

A massive shockwave of dust exploded from Yin Zhe's back, tearing his robe into shreds. (Riiiiiip!)

But Yin Zhe didn't move backward. Not even an inch. His feet were planted to the ground. Soon

The dust was cleared.

The silver spear was bent. The tip was pressed against Yin Zhe's bare chest. The skin was green and glowing. There wasn't even a single scratch.

Zhao Feng's eyes bulged out of his head. "Im... impossible..." he stammered, his hands shaking from the recoil. "That was... the Spear Breaker. It breaks boulders. It breaks steel. How..."

Yin Zhe looked down at the spear tip poking his chest. Then He flicked it with his finger.

(Ting!)

"Is that it?" Yin Zhe asked, while sounding genuinely disappointed. "I thought it would hurt more. It felt more like a mosquito bite. Well to be precise, it was A very weak mosquito. Maybe a baby mosquito."

[Shocked Reactive points +1]

[Fear Reactive points +1]

Zhao Feng stepped back, with horror dawning on his face. "You... you are a monster! A physical cultivation monster!"

He pulled the spear back and started swinging it wildly, panic taking over. (Whack! Bash!) He hit Yin Zhe's shoulder. (Clunk!) He hit Yin Zhe's arm. (Thud!) He hit Yin Zhe's leg. (Bonk!)

Yin Zhe just stood there, letting the hits land. It was like watching a child hitting a statue with a stick. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

"Okay, this is getting boring," Yin Zhe sighed. (Sigh...) "And you ruined my shirt."

He reached out and grabbed the hilt of the sword Roaring Tiger.

(GRIP!)

The moment his fingers touched the black leather of the hilt, something totally weird happened.

Deep inside his core, in the dark space where his spirit essence swirled, there was the Soul Sutra—that mysterious, illegal white book he had absorbed—suddenly woke up.

A surge of energy rushed from his core, up his arm, and into the sword.

But it wasn't the usual dark, and heavy energy of the Roaring Tiger, or of his sword Will.

It was white this time.

It was Pure, blinding, holy white light.

(FWOOOOOM!)

The black sword suddenly erupted with a brilliant and white aura. The light was so intense it hurt to look at.

"What the..." Yin Zhe thought, his eyes widening. I didn't do that! System, what is this?! Turn it off! It's too bright!

But he couldn't turn it off. The sword pulled his arm. It wanted to swing badly.

Zhao Feng froze. He looked at the glowing white sword. He felt a pressure that made his knees buckle. "S... Sword Aura?"

In the VIP stands,

the Elder Chen Niao spat out his tea. (Pffft!).

"SWORD AURA?!" Chen Niao screamed, while jumping over the railing. "That is an actual, physical Sword Aura! White Sword Aura! That is the sign of a Saint-tier sword technique! How does a Root Awakening brat have Sword Aura?!"

"He hasn't even reached the Qi Realm!" Elder Xuan Yi shouted, standing up. "This defies the laws of cultivation! Is he an ancient monster reincarnated?!"

The crowd went insane.

"Look at the light!"

"It's blinding!"

"Is he a god?"

"He's holding the sun!"

Yin Zhe was panicking internally. Okay, okay, just swing it and make it stop!

He looked at Zhao Feng, who was now trembling, his spear hanging loosely in his hands.

"Uh... begone!" Yin Zhe shouted, trying to sound cool while absolutely terrified of his own weapon.

He swung.

It was just a horizontal slash.

(SHIIIIING!)

The white light extended from the blade, creating a crescent moon of energy that was ten feet long.

It hit the silver spear.

(SNAP!)

The cold iron spear, the weapon Zhao Feng had spent ten years mastering, snapped in half like a dry twig. The cut was smooth, as if the metal was made of butter.

The wave of white energy didn't stop. It hit Zhao Feng's chest armor.

(CRUNCH!)

The armor shattered. Zhao Feng was lifted off his feet. He flew backward as if he had been hit by a cannonball.

(WOOSH!)

He sailed through the air, past the edge of the ring, past the judge, and crashed into the stone wall of the spectator stands.

(BOOOOM!)

He stuck there for a second, embedded in the cracked wall like a cartoon character, before sliding down to the ground. (Slump.)

Silence.

Again.

The white light on Yin Zhe's sword flickered and died out, retreating back into his arm like a shy animal. The Soul Sutra went back to sleep.

Yin Zhe stood there, holding the now-normal black sword. His arm was numb. His heart was hammering against his ribs. (Thump-thump-thump.)

He looked at the broken spear on the ground. He looked at Zhao Feng, who was unconscious and foaming at the mouth. He looked at the Elders, who looked like they were about to have heart attacks.

Okay. Act cool. Be shameless.

Yin Zhe slowly sheathed the sword. (Click.)

He dusted off his hands. He looked at the judge.

"He broke my favorite shirt," Yin Zhe said, his voice echoing in the silent arena. "So I broke his stick. Fair trade, right?"

The system notifications scrolled across his vision like a waterfall.

[Ridiculed Reactive points +100] (From the people who thought he was weak earlier)

[Shocked Reactive points +500] (From the Elders and disciples witnessing the aura)

[Fear Reactive points +200] (From his next opponents)

[Confused Reactive points +50] (From himself)

[Total Passive Accumulation: +5,000 Points]

[Total Reactive Points: 43,017]

The judge swallowed hard. He looked at Yin Zhe with a mix of awe and terror. He raised a shaking hand.