You Are Nothing Before Me

On the seventh day, it was the most oppressive day Duke Fang's Estate had seen since its founding. Though most people scoffed at the threat of the estate being wiped out, when night fell, everyone in Duke Fang's Estate grew tense.

The night was like water, the cold wind whistled, and Nanqiu City, once prosperous and bustling, sank into silence. Every now and then, a dog barked.

Fang Wang sat atop the roof, stroking a treasured sword in his hand. Li Jiu had spent three days finding this sword; it could slice through iron like mud and was truly a divine weapon.

His gaze settled on a figure standing on a distant rooftop. It was his cousin, Fang Hanyu.

Fang Hanyu stood tall and straight, holding his sword in both arms with his head slightly lowered, as though dozing. The cold wind stirred his long hair and robe hems, lending him the roving chivalrous air of one who would climb to the very summit.

His cultivation is impressive. He has indeed reached the first-rate realm, and not merely entered it. He truly is a martial arts prodigy, Fang Wang praised inwardly.

In the martial world, practitioners were ranked from low to high as unranked, third-rate, second-rate, first-rate, supreme, and the legendary Martial Myth realm. There were no Martial Myths in the present age. Supreme experts were all figures who upheld the teachings of the major sects and rarely roamed the martial world. First-rate experts alone were enough to run rampant in all directions.

Fang Wang had reached the Martial Myth realm at sixteen. He should have become a legend of the age, but instead, he had encountered the crushing dimensional blow of Immortal Cultivation.

Faced with the Immortal Cultivator who was about to arrive, Fang Wang felt neither fear nor panic. Instead, hot blood brewed within his chest.

He had practiced martial arts for four years, yet had never killed an enemy. Even when sparring, he had covered his face before challenging those experts, stopping at the first touch.

His mastery of countless supreme martial arts and the perfected Sword Control Technique were what he relied on. They gave him the confidence to challenge even the lowest ranks of Immortal Cultivation. Besides, Zhou Xue, a reincarnator, was also in Fang Manor. In his eyes, Zhou Xue, an Immortal Venerable reborn, surely possessed extraordinary means. After all, she understood the difference between Immortal Cultivators and mortals.

The night gradually deepened. Frogs croaked repeatedly from courtyards all around, while groups of servants patrolled everywhere. The streets surrounding Fang Manor were especially heavily guarded; even the soldiers had been alarmed and came to stand watch through the night.

Zhou Xue sat before a stone table in the courtyard, wiping silver darts one by one. Her expression was icy; even the bright moonlight was not as cold as her gaze. Reflected in the weapons, black Killing Intent faintly surged within her eyes.

Elsewhere.

On Nanqiu City's eastern wall, figures leaped up one after another like soaring eagles, skimming over green waves like wild geese as they slipped into the city.

The final figure landed atop the wall and overlooked the vast Nanqiu City. His green robes billowed, his waist was narrow and shoulders broad, and his long hair was casually bound with a strip of cloth. He looked a little over forty. The whisk in his hand made him appear like a Daoist, but his eyes carried the cold venom of a snake.

"As expected of one of Great Qi's most prosperous southern cities. It will certainly allow the Soul Burning Banner to awaken."

The Daoist in Green muttered to himself, his lips curling upward. A trace of ruthlessness seeped into his voice. Then he leaped away, vanishing into the boundless night.

The main hall of Fang Manor was brightly lit. The young masters and madams of the estate had all gathered within. Seated at the head was the estate lord, Fang Meng.

Nearly seventy years old, Fang Meng's hair was white as frost. Like a lion in its twilight years, he sat in his chair with both hands resting on his cane, his sharp eyes calmly fixed on the night beyond the doorway.

"Midnight has already come, and the bandits have still not attacked. As expected, it was nothing but a rumor."

"That is what I said. How could we blindly believe the words of two children?"

"Wasn't that Fang Wang boy usually quite clever? How did he come to believe such rumors? Fang Manor is a Dukedom Manor. Whoever dares trespass will lose his head."

"Quiet! What do you women know? Until dawn comes, we cannot let down our guard!"

"Father, the unease in my heart is only growing stronger."

The young masters were all Fang Wang's uncles, their expressions grave. Some of the madams, however, pretended to be relaxed, hoping to keep the atmosphere from becoming too heavy.

Fourth Young Master Fang Zhen's words moved his brothers, because Fang Zhen had served in the army and crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood. His sense for danger far surpassed that of the others.

Fang Meng snorted. "This old man spent his life on horseback and battlefields. I have now laid down my armor, returned home, and surrendered my military authority, but that does not mean anyone can provoke me as they please. Whoever dares come will die, and this matter will not end there!"

The anger in his heart burned fiercely. In all of Great Qi, who would dare target a Dukedom Manor so recklessly?

And who possessed such power?

Fang Meng had his suspicions, but he did not voice them.

Suddenly!

"Ah—"

A scream came from the east. It was a maid's cry, filled with terror.

Fang Wang's eldest uncle, Fang Shi, immediately rushed out, vanishing from everyone's sight in just a few strides.

The remaining four young masters of Fang Manor—Fang Zhe, Fang Jin, Fang Zhen, and Fang Yin—immediately stepped outside and looked around. Their wives were frightened, but they did not lose their heads. They merely crowded together, trembling.

Fang Meng coughed a few times and slowly rose to his feet with the support of his old wife.

Before long, screams, battle cries, and the clash of blades rang out throughout Fang Manor.

From the rooftop, Fang Wang saw mysterious black-clad men breaking into Fang Manor from every direction. There were more enemies than he had expected. He charged toward the black-clad man with the fastest movement technique.

At the same time, Fang Hanyu moved as well, while Zhou Xue remained seated at the stone table, waiting patiently.

A black-clad man flipped over a courtyard wall and landed on the ground. He held a blade in his right hand and wore black cloth over his face, exposing only his eyes. His gaze fell upon three maids in the courtyard. The moment they saw him, they shrieked and hurriedly ran into the house.

Without a word, the black-clad man rushed toward them.

Whoosh—

A sharp sound tore through the air and split the night. The black-clad man abruptly stopped. At the corner of the wall behind him, a pebble struck the wall, leaving a thumb-sized dent before falling to the ground. Under the moonlight, the bloodstain on the pebble was black.

The black-clad man fell backward. His head smashed heavily against the ground, his eyes bulging wide in death, unable to rest in peace. A bloody hole had been punched through his forehead, making for a ghastly sight.

Within his pupils, Fang Wang's figure flashed past.

Racing swiftly along the courtyard walls, Fang Wang tossed out a pebble from time to time. He had prepared them in advance. Each stone could easily kill one black-clad man running rampant through Fang Manor.

Fang Wang constantly changed direction. Wherever there were black-clad men, he went to kill them. No enemy could withstand a single strike from him.

Fang Manor covered a vast expanse, like a city within a city. The black-clad men had scattered in all directions, and Fang Wang could not kill them all in a short time. As he moved through the estate, he also watched the distance.

Zhou Xue had said that aside from the Immortal Cultivator, this invasion included six supreme experts from the imperial capital. Fang Manor had no supreme experts. Even with several thousand servants and the soldiers assisting them, it would be difficult to kill six supreme experts.

Fang Wang planned to deal with the six supreme experts first, then confront the Immortal Cultivator, reducing Fang Manor's casualties as much as possible.

Suddenly, Fang Wang spotted a powerful burst of force in one direction. Even a pavilion had been blasted apart, and he immediately turned and rushed over.

Blades clashed, and Fang Hanyu was sent reeling back. The tips of his feet carved two long trails into the ground. He suddenly bent over, planted the scabbard in his hand against the ground, and dropped to one knee. Blood poured uncontrollably from his mouth.

At the very first exchange, he had already been defeated!

Fang Hanyu's long hair was slightly disheveled. He raised his eyes with difficulty, his gaze filled with shock, and gritted out two words: "Supreme expert!"

Beneath the night sky, the cold wind whistled. The black-clad man standing before Fang Hanyu held a refined iron saber. Unlike the other black-clad men, he wore a bronze mask that revealed only his eyes, mouth, and nose.

The masked man looked down at Fang Hanyu coldly and snorted. "To reach the first-rate realm at such a young age, Fang Manor has produced quite a genius. What a pity—you will die here tonight."

He raised the saber in his right hand, and frost actually began to rise from its blade.

Fang Hanyu's face was full of unwillingness. Before this night, he had only seen one supreme expert: the sect leader of his sect, a renowned Grandmaster of Great Qi's martial world. The sect leader had once guided him, allowing him to understand deeply the gap between a first-rate expert and a supreme expert.

Despair sank into his heart. Fang Manor might be a Dukedom Manor founded by generals, but it possessed no supreme experts. No matter how strong his eldest uncle Fang Shi was, he was only at the peak of first-rate.

"Who exactly are you? Who is directing this from behind the scenes?"

Fang Hanyu asked in a deep voice. He struggled to stand, and even the hand gripping his treasured sword was trembling.

After just one exchange, the opponent's True Qi had already injured his internal organs. Even so, he did not wish to retreat, because this was his home.

The masked man stepped toward him. The blade reflected a cold gleam as it flashed beside the ruins.

"Why should a dying man need to know the truth? Everything in this mortal world will soon have nothing to do with you."

The masked man spoke coldly, holding the saber at an angle. The frost on its blade surged like mist, blurring his figure.

Fang Hanyu tossed the scabbard aside, raised a hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, and assumed a sword stance, ready to fight to the death.

Even if he could not kill the enemy, he had to find a way to injure him and buy more time for Fang Manor.

Just then.

The masked man suddenly stopped walking. As Fang Hanyu hesitated in confusion, a familiar yet unfamiliar voice came from behind him:

"That is right. But have you ever considered that the dying man might be you?"

Fang Hanyu instinctively turned his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a figure streaking past him like a startled swan.

It was Fang Wang!

Using Shadowless Steps, he arrived in a blur of afterimages and positioned himself between Fang Hanyu and the masked man.

Fang Wang, dressed in fitted white robes, had grown into a tall and handsome youth, though his face still retained a touch of childishness. The vigor between his brows was something ordinary youths did not possess.

The masked man's gaze fell upon the scabbard in Fang Wang's right hand. Narrowing his eyes, he said, "What fine footwork. At such a young age, you are truly an unparalleled prodigy. Compared to you, the man behind you is nothing worth mentioning."

Hearing this, Fang Hanyu did not think much of it. He merely stared blankly at Fang Wang's back.

Of course, he remembered this cousin. They had not met for many years, and with the threat of the estate's destruction hanging over them, he had not found a chance to catch up with Fang Wang after returning.

That footwork just now... He practices martial arts too?

Fang Hanyu thought in surprise. After returning, he had asked his father about Fang Wang's experiences. This younger cousin had remained in Fang Manor all along, so where had he learned such an exquisite movement technique?

Fang Wang stared at the masked man and suddenly drew his treasured sword. The instant the sword light emerged from its sheath, the masked man's pupils abruptly widened.

Within his pupils, a sword rapidly grew larger. He instinctively raised his saber.

Splat—

Blood sprayed. Fang Wang appeared behind the masked man, his sword raised in his right hand and angled toward the bright moon. He slightly lifted his chin and, without looking back, said softly, "You are nothing before me."