In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Wang Chen had slaughtered his way through the bandits' ranks.
At that moment, there was no enemy left before Wang Chen but a burly giant gripping a battle-axe.
The burly man's gaze upon Wang Chen brimmed with venomous hatred and resentment.
He let out a beastlike roar, suddenly swinging up his battle-axe and chopping down at Wang Chen. His strength ran through the axe, his momentum as heavy as a thousand jun; it seemed capable of cleaving an entire mountain apart.
Yet Wang Chen took a swift step back, leveled the Mo Dao held in both hands, and thrust straight at this powerful Bandit.
An inch longer, an inch stronger. Wang Chen's weapon was several times longer than his opponent's battle-axe, so though he moved later, he struck first, piercing the fierce bandit's chest like lightning.
Pfft!
The burly man roared in pain, his falling battle-axe crashing heavily against the blade.
Clang!
The clashing edges sent brilliant sparks flying, but the blade did not break.
With a twist of his wrist, Wang Chen spun the long blade at high speed, instantly boring a gaping hole through his opponent's chest.
The fierce bandit glared fixedly at Wang Chen. The instant the latter withdrew his Mo Dao, he swallowed his last breath.
Wang Chen turned around and saw the three hundred elite warriors under his command desperately pursuing the fleeing bandits.
Wang Chen had beaten these bandits until they cried for their fathers and mothers, throwing away their helmets and armor. They had lost all will to fight, each one wishing he could grow two extra legs.
The surrounding terrain was wide and flat, with nowhere to hide or take cover. Thus, many bandits were shot down by arrows