Feng Yun and the old man sword saint spent a few hours and finally laid a guardian formation around the shop building. It was strong enough to hold against a Peak Great Saint Realm cultivator. However, it can’t stop them for too long, nor can it trap or injure a strong great saint realm cultivator like the old man sword saint.
Although the old man was a great saint, his combat power was the best among great saints; it was all due to his mastery of the sword.
However, it was pretty good; there are not many strong great saint realm cultivators in Black Plain City. Feng Yun had only one enemy he needed to guard against in the Black Plain city, and that was the leader of the Black Wolf Guild.
After the formation had been set up, Feng Yun opened the business again.
The night air in Black Plain City was heavy with dust and heat. Lanterns burnt dimly along the crooked streets, their light shivering against the breeze.
Feng Yun locked the shop door behind him, carrying a small pouch of coins from the day’s business.
He stepped out into the street, looking both ways. It was quiet — perhaps too quiet. The usual drunks were absent, and the wandering rcenaries were fewer than normal. Even the hawkers had vanished early.
The Sword Saint’s faint chuckle rose from behind him. "Boy, there are people following you."
Feng Yun didn’t glance back. "Hmm, they should be mbers of the Black Wolf Guild; haven’t they learnt their lesson yet?"
"They’ve learnt," the Sword Saint replied, his tone calm and sharp as a blade. "That’s why they’ll strike here. Outside your den, where they think you’re alone."
"Do they not know about you?" Feng Yun was a little curious. The old man’s sword saint had been with him for so days already; others should have known about this. If they knew he had the sword saint by his side, they wouldn’t dare to attack him.
"Wait... they might not have recognised you. Yes, that’s it." At this ti, a sudden enlightennt struck him. After the old man took the pill and regained his strength, he also regained his vigour, changing his old man-like appearance to that of a middle-aged man. Even he couldn’t recognise him after the transformation; how could they identify him?
Feng Yun’s lips curved faintly. "Then let’s see what kind of teeth they’ve brought."
Not far away, in a shadowed alley, the Black Wolf Guild gathered.
They had lost over thirty n the last ti they tried to storm Feng Yun’s house. The formation guarding his residence had been rciless, cutting through their ambush like scythes through wheat.
The one who ca to ambush Feng Yun was once again Black Tiger. Black Tiger had a conflict with Feng Yun during the auction, but the old man sword saint interfered last ti, saving Feng Yun.
"This ti", he growled to his lieutenants, "he won’t hide behind walls or arrays. Tonight, nobody co here to save him."
Behind him, nearly fifty guild mbers waited. So carried weapons. A handful of cultivators with sharper eyes and deeper qi stood at the front, their killing intent thick.
The Black Wolf Guild had no shortage of enemies, but none made them seethe like Feng Yun. He had humiliated them, crushed their raid, and then walked through the city as if untouchable.
The black Tiger spat on the ground. "Rember — he’s just one man. Don’t falter. When the mont cos, surround him. Don’t let him breathe."
Feng Yun walked steadily down the lantern-lit street, the Sword Saint trailing at his side.
He could feel it now — the tension crawling across the rooftops, the faint shuffle of boots in the shadows. The guild mbers were restless, waiting for their master’s signal.
A drunk staggered out of a nearby tavern, took one look at Feng Yun, and hurried back inside. Even fools could sense the storm building.
Finally, the black tiger himself stepped from an alley. His face twisted into a sneer. "Feng Yun".
Feng Yun stopped, eting his gaze calmly. "Black Tiger."
"You cost brothers," Black Tiger spat. "You cost blood. Tonight, I’ll pay you back."
The Sword Saint’s hand twitched faintly toward his hilt, but Feng Yun lifted a hand. "Let him bark a little longer."
The Black Tiger roared, raising his arm. Shadows spilt from alleys and rooftops as dozens of Black Wolf Guild mbers poured into the street, blades flashing.
The street was sealed at both ends.
"Surround him!" The Black Tiger shouted.
The first wave of rcenaries charged recklessly, their boots thundering across the stones.
Feng Yun’s expression didn’t change. He took out his spear.
The street flared with killing intent.
The Sword Saint stood slightly behind, his hand still resting on his sword, his old eyes sharp. "Boy, shall I take the left or the right?"
"Neither," Feng Yun said softly. "I’ll test my blade. You... just held back the black tiger."
The Sword Saint chuckled approvingly.
The first attacker leapt with a shout, blade raised. Feng Yun’s spear blurred, a silver arc slicing through the air. The man dropped before his shout ended, his chest pierced clean through.
The spear spun again, sweeping wide, knocking two more back into the dirt with blood spraying from their mouths.
The guild roared in fury.
More poured in, blades striking from every angle. Feng Yun’s qi surged, his aura bursting like a storm. The spear moved with terrifying grace — stabbing, sweeping, striking — each movent efficient, each strike fatal.
The Black Tiger’s eyes widened. "This, how can he be so strong? He is just a martial king realm cultivator."
Desperation filled the guild. Cultivators from their higher ranks leapt in, unleashing arts of fla and shadow.
But the Sword Saint finally moved.
One step forward. One blade drawn.
The street flashed white.
The nearest five n froze mid-step. Their heads slid from their necks before their bodies even realised they had died. Blood sprayed like rain, splattering the stones.
The Sword Saint exhaled slowly, his sword humming softly before sliding back into its sheath. "Slow."
The guild froze in shock.
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