472: Chapter 472 Pretending to be weak to deceive others, is this not the case?

Zhao Qian's sword stopped in mid-air, unable to descend any further.

His pupils contracted violently, and the smile on his face froze into a distorted expression of terror.

He felt a terrifying aura erupt from Xu Ruyu's body. That aura was like a giant beast that had slept for ten thousand years suddenly awakening, like a volcano suppressed for a thousand years abruptly erupting. It was so powerful it suffocated him, so powerful his very Soul trembled.

That aura was not the Qi Refinement Stage, not the Foundation Establishment Stage, not the Golden Core Stage, nor even the Nascent Soul Stage or Soul Transformation Stage—it was the terrifying pressure of the Half-step Saint Realm!

Zhao Qian's mind went blank; he couldn't even believe his own senses.

Half-step Saint Realm? Xu Ruyu?

A young man in his early twenties, a youth everyone dismissed as a Qi Refinement Stage waste, a kid so weak he couldn't even stand steadily before him—was actually in the Half-step Saint Realm?

"You... you..."

Zhao Qian's voice was shaking, his lips trembling, unable to complete a single word.

He still held the short sword in his hand, the tip only an inch away from Xu Ruyu's ankle, but that single inch was like an insurmountable chasm.

Leaning against the rock, Xu Ruyu slowly raised his head.

The moonlight fell on his pale face, illuminating the cold smile at the corner of his mouth.

Those eyes were no longer filled with the previous exhaustion and weakness; instead, they were like two unsheathed sharp swords, so piercing that one dared not look directly at them.

In his eyes, there was no fear, no panic, only an indescribable... ruthlessness.

"Zhao Qian," his voice was very soft, so soft only Zhao Qian could hear it, yet every word exploded in Zhao Qian's ears like a clap of thunder, "did you really think I was finished?"

Zhao Qian's pupils constricted to their limit.

He wanted to retreat, wanted to flee, but his legs were weak and he couldn't move at all.

His body seemed to be locked in place by an invisible force, unable to even move a finger.

That feeling of being stared down by death made him feel a chill deep in his bones.

"You... you've been faking it..."

Zhao Qian's voice was hoarse, filled with endless disbelief, each word sounding as if it were squeezed out of his throat.

"You... you're not in the Qi Refinement Stage... you've been feigning weakness... since the Taihu Clan, you've been faking it..."

Xu Ruyu looked at him and smiled.

In that smile, there was mockery and disdain.

The moonlight shone on his pale face, making the smile look somewhat eerie, like the smile of a god of death.

"Qi Refinement Stage?" he spoke slowly, his voice still very soft, yet every word was crystal clear. "That's just what you all thought.

I never said that I, Xu Ruyu, was only at the Qi Refinement Stage.

You were blind yourselves; who else is there to blame?"

His right hand slowly rose.

That hand had been trembling slightly just moments ago, as if it didn't even have the strength to form a fist.

Zhao Qian remembered clearly that when he had dragged Xu Ruyu off the rock and onto the ground, that hand had been weakly propped against the gravel, lacking the strength to even support his body.

But now, veins bulged on that hand, muscles were taut, and it radiated heart-palpitating fluctuations of power.

The fluctuations were almost tangible, forming a visible vortex of Qi around the fist that blew the surrounding gravel in all directions.

Half-step Saint Realm!

A genuine, bona-fide Half-step Saint Realm!

Countless images flashed through Zhao Qian's mind—when Xu Ruyu repaired the saint tablet in the Taihu Clan, everyone thought he relied on his Comprehension Ability; when Xu Ruyu cracked the Taihu Forbidden Array, everyone thought he relied on his talent for Formations; when Xu Ruyu blasted Mo Feng away with one shot, everyone thought he relied on a Spiritual Artifact; when Xu Ruyu trapped Situ E with the Acetylene Great Array, everyone thought he relied on the Formation.

No one had ever considered that his own Cultivation was actually the Half-step Saint Realm.

He had hidden it too deeply.

From the Taihu Clan to Tianyin Mountain, from being surrounded to detonating the array, he had been acting the entire time.

All his weakness, all his exhaustion, and all his pathetic states were faked.

He intentionally made himself look like he was at his wit's end, intentionally made himself look like a lamb to be slaughtered, all for this moment—waiting for Zhao Qian to lower his guard, waiting for Zhao Qian to lose himself in triumph, and then delivering a fatal blow.

Playing the pig to eat the tiger, truly so.

Zhao Qian's eyes were filled with fear and despair.

He wanted to shout, wanted to call for Tian Jianzi to save him, but his throat felt as if it were being squeezed by something, and he couldn't make a sound.

He could only watch helplessly as Xu Ruyu's right hand slowly clenched into a fist.

The fist wasn't large; it was even somewhat delicate.

But Zhao Qian knew that the power contained within that fist was enough to punch through his chest.

"Zhao Qian," Xu Ruyu's voice rang out again, still very soft, as if he were speaking about something that had nothing to do with him, "you asked me just now where your fatal weakness was.

I'll tell you now."

He paused, a sharp light flashing in his eyes as he said word by word, "Your fatal weakness is your self-righteousness.

You thought you controlled everything, but in reality, you are nothing."

Before his voice had even faded, his fist suddenly struck out.

That punch was as fast as lightning and as heavy as a mountain.

That punch carried the full power of the Half-step Saint Realm, all the anger and resentment Xu Ruyu had accumulated over these days, and all his disgust and contempt for a hypocrite like Zhao Qian.

Wherever the wind of the punch passed, the air was torn apart, letting out a sharp whistling sound, and the gravel on the ground was swept up by the wind, flying in all directions like hidden weapons.

Zhao Qian wanted to dodge, but it was far too late. Xu Ruyu's speed was too fast, so fast that his eyes couldn't even keep up.

He could only watch helplessly as that fist grew larger and closer, until—

"Puchi!"

A muffled sound.

Xu Ruyu's fist directly punched through Zhao Qian's chest.

Not from the front, but from the side—Xu Ruyu's body had shifted slightly at the moment of the punch, and the fist cut in from beneath Zhao Qian's ribs, passing through the gaps between the ribs and striking directly at the heart.