Man Like a Dragon, Spear Like a Ghost!

Click.

A minuscule sound.

Though incredibly faint, it was remarkably clear in the silent, deep night.

"Who?!"

Ma Liu, who had been standing in the courtyard, leaning on his saber, suddenly turned his head and looked sharply towards the courtyard gate, shouting loudly.

Bang!

In the very next instant.

The heavy bolt snapped cleanly in the middle, and the tightly shut courtyard gate burst open!

Outside the courtyard, under the cloak of night, more than ten figures, each wielding a sharp blade, systematically stepped into the yard. Their weapons, reflecting the moonlight, glinted with cold light, an icy chill that silently permeated the entire courtyard.

"You!"

Ma Liu's expression changed.

He was no stranger to the world, and seeing the scene before him, he could immediately tell the origin of these people. They were clearly not common thieves who scaled walls, but a group of vicious, evil bandits, most likely the ones who had been wanted recently!

Bang, bang, bang.

At almost the same time.

The doors on the east and west sides of the courtyard, as well as the main hall, were all pushed open from the inside. Hu Yong, holding his ring-saber, Sun Wang, gripping his long sword, and Wu Ming, carrying the Crimson Serpent Spear, stepped out together.

"Fate brings us together again. Would you gentlemen permit us to pass tonight?"

Hu Yong's face was heavy with suppressed emotion. Holding his ring-saber, he spoke in a deep voice to the dozen dark figures who had entered the courtyard.

"We want the goods."

"We want the lives."

From the twelve dark figures, a leading silhouette spoke with a tone of utter indifference.

Seeing the situation, Hu Yong, Sun Wang, Ma Liu, and the others felt their hearts sink to the bottom. They knew they were in for serious trouble tonight. As martial artists, they had all experienced the baptism of blood before, allowing them to maintain a semblance of composure.

But there were only four of them; how could they possibly fend off twelve evil bandits?

Given the vast disparity in overall strength, these bandits had no intention of avoiding a fight. Instead, they aimed to kill them all to minimize any chance of their identities being exposed.

Under the night sky.

Sixteen people stood in the courtyard, facing each other from a distance. For a moment, the atmosphere in the entire courtyard seemed to drop to freezing point. After a brief silence, the band of robbers launched their attack ferociously.

"Let's finish this quickly!"

Someone spoke in a deep voice.

Three figures among the bandits erupted with robust blood energy, revealing their Second Blood Forging realm cultivation. They charged directly at Hu Yong, who held the ring-saber, launching a coordinated assault.

The remaining nine figures each split into three, charging towards Sun Wang, Ma Liu, and Wu Ming respectively.

In an instant, The courtyard was filled with a biting wind and surging killing intent!

When their realms were comparable, fighting one against two was already incredibly difficult. Fighting one against three was essentially a swift defeat, usually resulting in death within a few exchanges.

Zhao Hong, wielding a single saber, attacked Wu Ming from the front.

Looking at the young martial artist before him, who appeared no older than twenty, he felt as if he were seeing his younger self. However, he showed no mercy in his movements, his heart filled only with indifference.

"Kid, you're just unlucky."

The other two also attacked from the left and right, flanking him, their gazes equally detached.

Among the martial artists guarding the courtyard, Wu Ming was the youngest and undoubtedly the easiest to deal with. They estimated he could be quickly dispatched in two or three moves.

"Three against one, huh."

Observing the situation, Wu Ming knew in his heart that this was the first true crisis he had faced since becoming a Blood Forging martial artist. The killing intent filling the courtyard and the bone-chilling cold served as constant reminders that these were evil bandits, and they were fighting for their lives!

If he couldn't win, he would die!

For ordinary martial artists, even if they had prepared themselves mentally countless times, facing a life-or-death crisis for the first time would inevitably cause their hearts to flutter. Their blood energy would surge, stimulating their brains, making them feel as if they were submerged in ice water during the hottest part of summer.

This was the body's instinct.

In severe cases, one might even experience cold hands and feet, stiffness, sluggish movements, or even difficulty breathing.

But at this moment, Wu Ming's heart was filled with absolute tranquility. He knew the danger before him. If he delayed even slightly, Sun Wang and the others would likely be dead or injured within a few moves, and he would then face a siege.

The situation was dire, and time was of the essence; he had to break the deadlock immediately!

Wielding the Crimson Serpent Spear, he faced the assault from Zhao Hong and the other two. He immediately unleashed a "Sweeping Army," using the advantage of his spear's length to force all three to retreat a step. Then, instead of retreating, he advanced, thrusting his spear at one of them!

The spear's might was sharp, tearing through the air.

Pfft.

Blood splattered!

Zhao Hong, holding his single saber, his eyes widened abruptly, staring intently at Wu Ming before him, a hint of disbelief in his gaze.

He staggered back several steps, instinctively clutching his throat with his right hand. But all he felt was warmth and dampness – blood sprayed from his neck, instantly soaking his clothes and leaving crimson splotches on the bluestone tiles under the night sky.

"How could this be..."

Zhao Hong couldn't comprehend it.

He had reacted instantly, parrying with his saber and sidestepping, but the spear seemed to follow him like a shadow, rendering his parry and dodge useless. It was as if the spear had anticipated his movement, piercing his throat in a single, decisive thrust!

This spear technique should be the Falling Leaf Spear Technique, but how could it be wielded so bizarrely, like a phantom?

He had never faced such an opponent in his life, nor such a strange spear technique. And the wielder of this technique was a youth, no older than twenty, who had only just begun to explore the Martial Path!

He had always known his profession—killing for wealth, living by the blade—meant facing death. But he never imagined he would die here, so easily, so suddenly, and so incomprehensibly.

"Old Zhao!"

"This..."

This sudden turn of events caused the other two men who were surrounding Wu Ming to change color drastically, their faces filled with disbelief.

Wu Ming's blood energy was only at the level of First Blood Forging. Even a master of Second Blood Forging couldn't have killed one of them in such a brief opening while the three of them attacked together. That spear strike was simply unbelievable!

However.

Being seasoned bandits who lived by the sword, the two reacted without hesitation despite the shock. They immediately raised their respective weapons, attacking Wu Ming from the left and right.

Although Wu Ming had pierced Zhao Hong's throat with his strange spear thrust just moments ago, that strike had been made in a momentary opening, leaving him exposed on both sides with numerous openings.

However.

Facing the pincer attack from the two bandits, Wu Ming's expression remained as calm as still water, his gaze utterly unfaltering. It was as if he were facing a casual spar, not a life-or-death crisis.

Caught between the two flashing blades, he leaped into the air. Gripping the Crimson Serpent Spear, his body and the spear became one. With a bizarre and agile spin, he narrowly dodged a saber strike and a sword slash that came at him from above and below.

After spinning halfway in the air, avoiding the pincer attack, Wu Ming, still airborne and not yet having landed, retracted his spear. Then, using the strength of his waist, he thrust forward powerfully, channeling his force through the spear, and thrust it out diagonally.

This was a "Direct Strike," normally performed while standing upright, but he executed it from the gap created by his aerial spin, clearly showcasing his mastery of the spear technique.

"Not good."

The bandit targeted by Wu Ming's spear felt a chilling sensation course through his body.

He knew something was wrong the moment his saber attack missed during their combined assault. Now, facing Wu Ming's counter-thrust that coincided with his evasion, he had no choice but to change his stance immediately. He brought his saber down, simultaneously leaping off the ground, executing a "Mount Tai Press."

This defensive maneuver was straightforward and displayed his battle-hardened proficiency at the Proficient level. By all rights, he should have been able to dodge Wu Ming's spear thrust.

But.

In the very next moment.

As if he had foreseen this, Wu Ming's gaze was incredibly calm. His spear was still thrusting forward, his right arm extended, his left hand drawn back. He used the opponent's "Mount Tai Press" momentum to flick his spear, changing the thrust angle from horizontal to a curved upward motion.

Splat.

Blood splashed again.

Wu Ming and the bandit landed simultaneously. The difference was that Wu Ming rolled upon landing and sprang up nimbly, while the bandit crashed heavily to the ground, clutching his throat with his right hand. Blood gushed from between his fingers, his eyes filled with disbelief.

What kind of move was that?!

His strength wasn't superior, nor were his techniques particularly profound—at most, they were at the Proficient level, certainly not the Unity Realm. Yet, he had changed his move mid-thrust based on the bandit's defense, tearing through his guard with an incredibly bizarre angle!

He collapsed in a pool of blood, clutching his throat, his life force gradually fading. The scenes flashing through his mind as he died were all of that strange, upward-thrusting spear.

Man like a dragon, spear like a ghost.

Two spears thrown, two men dead!

The third man who had been surrounding Wu Ming watched this scene and finally felt a chill of fear. He exclaimed, his voice trembling:

"Help! Something's not right with this kid!"