My SSS-Rank Clone Talent: I Level Up Endlessly! Chapter 339: The Mysterious power of Righteous Heart!?

Orthodox Faction, Small Naless Village.

The once-lively village was now completely silent, with everyone hiding inside their hos, huddled together in fear.

Outside, only a small group of young n and a single old man stood guard, clad in ragtag armor as they resolutely defended the village entrance.

From the distance, faint jeers and cheers of hundreds of n began to echo closer.

The old man slowly lifted his head. Though his fra was aged and frail, his eyes burned with firm and ferocious determination. "On guard!" he shouted.

The youths behind him stomped the ground in unison and drew their weapons, most of them nothing more than poor-quality swords, scimitars, and sickles.

Soon, the ground began to tremble, and the neighing of horses echoed through the air. In the distance, a horde of bandits advanced rapidly across the land, their faces twisted with ferocious expressions and unrestrained murderous intent.

Their weapons were far superior in quality, their numbers more than tenfold, and their deanor as savage as wolves driven by bloodlust.

One young man swallowed hard, his throat tightening at the sheer scale of the enemy force.

"Stay alert and trust the old man." Another youth beside him placed a firm hand on his shoulder, speaking with resolute conviction. "No matter how many they are, the old man will take care of all of us."

Just as the bandits were close to them, their entire formation ca to a halt at the raised hand of the head bandit, who barked, "Stop!"

The leader, a man clad in silver armor, grinned as he lifted his hand once more.

"Draw the bows."

The front line of bandits split apart, revealing mounted archers with arrows already notched, raising their bows high into the sky.

"You..." The old man’s eyes widened, his gaze flustered as it fell on the drawn bows. "You dare resort to such dirty tricks."

"Did you really think that just because you’re a Martial Trainee, we couldn’t do anything to you, old man?" the head bandit sneered, pointing a finger directly at him.

"Loose!"

Swish!

A storm of arrows shot forth, tearing through the air as though an apocalypse had descended upon them.

The old man turned his head, glancing at the countless youths behind him, legs trembling in panic, yet still standing firm and beyond them, the village they sought so desperately to protect.

"Run away, fools!"

"No! We’re going to stay and help protect this village!" the youths cried out, their voices breaking with tears.

With a weary sigh, the old man tightened his grip. Then, with a thunderous roar, he swung his sword, deflecting arrow after arrow. But there were far too many. His age weighed against him, and soon one struck, then another, until his body was riddled with countless arrows.

In an instant, the old man was dead, and the youths behind him lay either slain or completely incapacitated.

"Haha, fools. That old man could have run from this place, but instead he bought a ager amount of ti for the others to flee," the bandit leader sneered, drooling with cruel delight. "You can run, but can you hide? Let’s kill the n and take their won for our own."

"Kill the n, take the won!" The bandits behind him echoed in unison, their thunderous roar rattling the air.

The villagers were already pouring out the other side of the settlent, crowds of people fleeing for their lives. Most were sickly, weak n and the elderly, with won and children running alongside them in panic.

Unfortunately, after only a few ters, the villagers froze in despair, bandits had completely encircled the area, leaving no path of escape.

"You’re not going anywhere. We’ve planned this for nearly half a year, how could we possibly let you slip away?" one of the bandits sneered.

The raiders advanced a step forward, and the villagers instinctively stepped back. Step by step, they were herded, driven back into the village they had tried to flee.

"Hahaha, tonight we feast, boys," the bandit leader jeered, his leering gaze sweeping over the won among the crowd.

The people were horrified, their faces pale as paper. Many sat hunched on the ground, completely vulnerable, fear consuming their very souls.

At that mont, a man draped in ragged clothes slowly approached the village entrance. His eyes fell upon the corpses of the old man and the youths, and he let out a quiet sigh. "Unfortunately, I was too late."

Stepping past the threshold, he calmly fixed his gaze on the bandits.

So intent were they on their prey that none of them even noticed his arrival.

"You shall all face your punishnts." The man calmly extended his hand, and a black haze surged from his body, coalescing into the shape of a sword. But it didn’t stop there, a flash of golden light coursed through the blade as he lightly swept it toward the bandits.

A strange "kahh" sound reverberated, as if reality itself were being torn apart, and for a mont, the world fell silent.

The bandits froze, motionless, as if ti itself had stopped. Then, one by one, the upper halves of their bodies collapsed with dull "thud" sounds while their lower half stood in place.

"We... we are saved."

Everyone cheered at the sight, confusion still flickering in their eyes, but none of it mattered, they were alive.

The one responsible for it all stood calmly, watching as children hugged their mothers, their smiles lighting up the scene.

"Sigh." He flicked his hand, and the Aura Sword vanished. At the sa ti, strands of golden light gathered into his hand, rging seamlessly with his body.

"This Righteous Heart... is interesting."

One of the children pointed at him, eyes wide, and shouted, "He’s the one who saved us! I saw it with my own eyes!"

Everyone’s heads turned toward the man in ragged clothes, silently studying him, a hint of wariness in their eyes. But the children felt no such caution.

The little boy who had pointed at him ran forward with excitent. "Mister, what’s your na? How did you do that?"