Alone Across Ten Thousand Realms

With a mixed bag of spiritual roots and not a penny to his name, Ye Qingshan carried a pair of eyes that could see the vital weakness of anything. From an East Wasteland menial disciple, he made his way all the way to Zhongzhou. Everyone thought he was a mild-mannered rogue cultivator who quietly drew arrays, until the day the young prodigies gathered. He slowly raised a hand. “Sword, come.” Twenty years of hiding his true abilities, all for this moment: one sword strike to shatter ten thousand techniques.