The axe-wielding giant burst into laughter upon hearing her words and said,
"Act now? It seems like the little girl can’t wait to go et the Lord Yan..."
"Let grandpa send you on your way!"
In mid-laughter, his body’s muscles and bones crackled, swelling him even more robustly by a third. Clutching the battle axe, he took a large stride forward, intending to take revenge for the earlier setback. Despite his words, he was not rash enough to charge to the forefront, and rely followed behind Xiong Ying, leader of the Twenty-Seven Allied Gangs, and a middle-aged scholar, displaying extre cunning.
Xiong Ying glanced at him, his expression unchanged, his right hand slowly increasing its grip.
The heavy blade buzzed, already rising from the ground.
Beside him, the white-robed middle-aged scholar’s smile receded slightly, and in his hands, seemingly from nowhere, appeared a Jade Bone Folding Fan, an unusually rare and formidable Qin Weapon in Jianghu, its martial arts style enigmatic. With a flick of the wrist, he would surely unleash a ghostly lethal move.
Yu Jiu sneered as several people behind him drew their weapons.
Next to Yu Jiu, a Middle Third Rank martial artist carrying three longswords reached behind with his right hand, gripping the hilt of the largest sword.
The killing intent was sharp and cold.
Below the winter plum. Explore more at .Côm
Wang Anfeng exhaled as he began to speak, unbinding the final formation within the sword scabbard. On the blade hidden inside, a faint light shimred erratically. Tan Yurou’s eyes slightly widened, the brown pupils reflecting the quietly blooming plum blossoms.
She raised her hand to stroke her hair by her temples, murmuring softly,
"The plum blossoms have blood..."
Snow landed on the plum blossoms.
Falling gently to the ground, the snow landed soundlessly, yet it was enough to stir the Qi chanism.
Zhao Zhengyong’s face sharply tensed as he commanded,
"Act now!"
His voice seed to be left behind by these powerfully martial artists, and only after the fastest among them had dashed forward several steps did a belated roar—or perhaps countless cries rged together—echo through the air, disrupting the serenity of the night with the clashing sounds of weapons.
The intent to kill fiercely rippled through the courtyard.
Xiong Ying’s usually solemn eyes suddenly snapped open, ablaze with brightness.
Right hand holding on to the sword, he raised the imnsely heavy battle blade for the first ti, splitting the wind and snow. His Inner Strength surged through his ample veins as the wind and snow swirled, allowing his subordinates to rush past him towards the front.
A heavy, piercing aura erged on the blade’s edge.
Beside him, the scholar in white continued to smile slightly, his eyes narrow and sharp like blades.
In less than a third of a breath, he spun the solid steel Jade Bone Folding Fan in his hand and pressed earnestly against Xiong Ying’s waist.
Xiong Ying’s body trembled as the Qi Force, which had been running at its peak, was suddenly disrupted.
The bald behemoth behind him cried out in anger, "Sixth Brother, what are you doing?!"
"Big Brother!" exclaid the scholar as he shook his wrist, causing a sharp blade to spring forth from the front end of the fan. Xiong Ying’s Protective Gang Qi had already been breached by the scholar’s earlier move, and now the teoric iron sword edge, specifically designed to break through Inner Qi, stabbed directly into Xiong Ying’s organs.
Xiong Ying’s face paled, the sudden turn of events far beyond his anticipation. The heavy blade in his grasp again thrust into the ground as he bellowed, his Middle Third Rank Inner Strength regathering forcefully to repel the embedded blade from his body, drawing a trail of blood with it.
A wave of Qi burst forth.
The end of the fan bore a blood-red tassel that fluttered with the wind.
Xiong Ying roared, turning swiftly with his blade in hand, but before he could complete his move, the scholar in white had already drifted back, leveraging the force of the Gang Qi rebound. With a rustling sound, the Jade Bone Folding Fan snapped open, each fan bone releasing a thin blade.
He spun around.
The blades on the fan swept past the throats of several n. His martial arts were already highly advanced, and with his prepared attack against the unprepared, only three managed to dodge while four had their throats slit, spurting blood due to their vigorous energy.
The crimson blood spattered the pristine snow, blooming like furious blood plums.
The scholar floated before Tan Yurou, the Folding Fan held obliquely in his right hand, exuding an elegant deanor.
Blood droplets trailed down the edge of the fan, slicing across the landscapes painted on it before gently dripping onto the snow.
The scholar chuckled and declared,
"Number Nine of the Tian Characters, at your service, my Lord..."
In the wake of such a stunning turn of events, almost everyone was disbelieving, all eyes fixating on Yu Jiu. The Middle Third Rank man holding the longsword narrowed his eyes, which glead with a chill.
With a flick of his wrist, the biting sword light aid at everyone’s throats almost instantly.
As a martial artist of Sixth Rank, executing a fatal sword strike within three steps against Seventh Rank martial artists, hardly anyone could withstand it.
Yu Jiu’s pupils suddenly contracted, his heart as though crying out in rage.
He didn’t understand why this man would do such a thing...
Such an act was clearly of no benefit to him!
But in an instant, the chill was piercing, and Yu Jiu’s eyes filled with despair. Regardless of the reasons, he no longer had a way to survive...
At that mont, the white-robed girl who had been behind him sohow managed to position herself in front of him.
The Longsword pierced cold and sharp into Yan’er’s shoulder.
And drew out a spray of blood.
The sword light retracted instantly, unwilling to squander any energy, while several Seventh Rank martial artists around them fell to the ground under this lethal strike, martial confrontation being a matter of monts which could determine life and death, especially from a sword blow by a Sixth Rank martial artist.
As the cold wind passed,
Yu Jiu only felt an icy chill envelop him, as if he had fallen into a frigid abyss, subconsciously gripping the white-robed girl in his arms tighter, his palms bulging with veins.
The man carrying three longswords approached Tan Yurou and stood beside her, sword in hand.
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