Return of the King, Chapter 1642 - 1536: Utter Torment

Chapter 1642: Chapter 1536: Utter Tornt

Song Yun wanted to press the Seven Kills deeper, to widen Bian Yan’s wound, or even slice off his entire arm.

A strong gust of wind flashed by from behind, causing Song Yun to quickly leap out of the combat circle.

He narrowly avoided Fen Ya’s slash from behind. At so unknown point, Fen Ya had also started using his own weapon, a long and narrow dagger.

Bian Yan clutched his arm in shock; he hadn’t expected Song Yun to be this fast. The first move had already made him bleed, even when he was fully defending against Fen Ya’s attack from behind.

Could this bastard have been hiding his strength and playing the fool all along?

Blood quickly seeped through his fingers, staining both hands before dripping down in drops. The pain only then set in, and the wound felt cold.

Fen Ya was equally astonished, but he reacted faster than Bian Yan. He pulled a spare bandage from his pocket and tossed it to Bian Yan, saying with concern, "Bandage it up before you join the fight again. This kid is fast. Be careful."

"You’re next." Song Yun said to Fen Ya, holding the blood-stained Seven Kills between his fingers.

Fen Ya dared not underestimate him, leaning forward and tensing his body, ready to defend against Song Yun’s attack at any mont.

"You’re also a speed-type expert. Let’s see who’s faster." Song Yun said with a smile. His body moved again, and the bandaging Bian Yan was astounded to find that Song Yun’s speed now was even faster than when he had attacked him earlier. So fast, he beca just a shadow.

Recalling when Fen Ya had referred to him as a martial genius rare in the Green Dragon Sect for a hundred years, one of the top three on the War God List, Bian Yan had been full of disdain.

He thought it was rely propaganda, just like the hype in the entertainnt circle around an actor or a rule-breaking woman who’s getting a major push.

Now he believed it. Without talent, just hard work alone could not achieve such speed.

Bian Huo quickly sped up his bandaging, preparing to join the battle as soon as possible. He didn’t have high hopes for Fen Ya against this man now.

Song Yun and Fen Ya fought speed with speed, their figures intertwined, leaving Bian Yan anxious and unable to find an opportunity to strike. Just then, two n walked over expressionlessly. Bian Yan squinted his eyes, his red hair standing on end like a lion ready to strike.

The ones who approached were a pair of twins.

They looked exactly alike, with unremarkable faces and a height not exceeding 1.70 ters. Their attire was equally ordinary, likely bought as a 30 yuan set from a street stall. Even their expressions and walking pace were in sync.

Outsiders would struggle to tell them apart, only those most familiar with them would know that the whorl in the middle of their short hair was the distinguishing mark. One had a single whorl and was called Lin Yi, the other had two, thus nad Lin Er. That’s the origin of their nas.

Seeing the two emotionless individuals approach, Bian Yan’s gaze grew intense. He gripped his weapon with one hand and, with guarded eyes, asked, "Who are you?"

He knew the terror of such people. Twins, born of the sa mother, share uncanny similarity or rapport in so respects. Should they receive specialized training targeting their potential in those areas, they could beco particularly formidable. Thus, upon seeing them, Bian Yan’s nerves tightened. History has too many examples of formidable figures coming to grief through underestimating seemingly insignificant individuals.

The two brothers said nothing, remaining expressionless as they walked side by side up to Bian Yan. Blades simultaneously in hand, they charged toward Bian Yan together.

They were trained by the old man himself, not only inheriting his martial skills but even sharing his temperant.

The old man also preferred to avoid fuss before making a move, attacking decisively and efficiently finishing off opponents before lanting a little over the corpse.

This thod was much safer—no matter how much you’re scolded, your opponent can’t do anything to you.

Unlike others who, before fighting, ask for the other person’s surna, given na, family size, acreage per person, whether they’ve eaten that morning, and what they had—dumplings or fried dough sticks—whether they forgot the soy milk.

Is this a vendetta or a sick call?

The old man once said that Lin Yi and Lin Er were his most successful dark acolytes, aside from Song Yun.

Bian Yan was truly realizing this now. Earlier, joining forces with Fen Ya to surround Song Yun had felt invigorating. Who would have thought the tables would turn so quickly—thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—and now, Bian Yan himself was being besieged by two.

The wheel of fortune turns, and it will eventually stop at your door.

The more Bian Yan fought, the more alard he beca. He had anticipated the seamless coordination between the twins, but the extent of their harmony far exceeded his expectations. On their own, they probably wouldn’t match him, but together, Bian Yan could only retreat steadily. Initially, his fierce attack could drive them back a bit, but once they found their rhythm, his nightmare began.

The twins alternated retreating and attacking in perfect sync. When one pressed forward, the other would flank, targeting Bian Yan’s unguarded spots. Despite Bian Yan’s best efforts to cover every angle with his weapon, one of them would always land a blow. Within minutes, Bian Yan’s body bore several new gashes. Even a shadow couldn’t predict or counter their joint moves, let alone soone like Bian Yan, who was a step below a shadow.

Retreating a few steps, Bian Yan touched his burning back. They had left several slashes, blood spurting out, flesh turned up, making him wince in pain.

What frustrated him most was the twins’ identical appearance; he couldn’t even tell which one had struck him. Their faces continuously flitted around him, but while the face remained constant, their angle and style of attack varied. Just as he’d adjust to one’s routine, the other would switch in, leaving Bian Yan bitterly anguished.

He glanced at Fen Ya’s situation and was further shocked.

Today’s mission seed increasingly unachievable, with the likelihood of both him and Fen Ya falling here.

He wondered if Crow had succeeded on his end. If they could capture soone important to Song Yun as a hostage, maybe the ga could see a few more moves.

For the first ti, Bian Yan held so hope for Crow, with his corpse-like face.

If possible, Bian Yan wished he could hang a "Do Not Disturb" sign and rest for a few minutes. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the Three Kingdoms, and such wishes were impossible. The twins advanced together again, and Bian Yan composed himself, focusing intently on defense.

Though Song Yun was locked in a fight with Fen Ya, he caught Lin Yi and Lin Er’s appearance from the corner of his eye.

Before he had left for Yanjing, he’d allowed them freedom of action, to independently hinder the three groups from the Hong Sect’s forces.

The old man held them in high regard, but Song Yun still felt uneasy. He didn’t know how many of the opponents they had dealt with, nor if the Hong Sect’s Two Kings trailing to Yanjing were from one of those groups. But the fact that the twins had erged unscathed and promptly ca to assist spoke volus about their prowess.

Despite the fierce duel with Fen Ya, Song Yun had not dared to give his all, with Bian Yan lurking nearby, ever watchful. He couldn’t leave himself completely open. So, though they fought intensely, it was mostly a series of punches landing without truly injuring Fen Ya. He was waiting—for soone to drop a stone and break the delicate balance. Now that Lin Yi and Lin Er were here facing Bian Yan, even if victory wasn’t ensured, they could hold for a while. That was enough for Song Yun.