The Truth Becomes Clear, The Expert's Identity

Chen Wuya stood in the middle of the sand, the shield in his palm gradually fading like a thin mist swept away by the wind. His breathing steadied, yet his gaze never left the man across from him.

That strike had just driven back three powerful fighters, yet only this iron-masked figure remained standing where he was. Though his aura was weak, it was not in disarray. Chen Wuya did not attack again. Instead, he lowered his head to look at the broken blade in his hand—several small chips marred its edge, but a strip of torn black cloth still clung to its cloth-wrapped hilt.

He pinched the cloth between his fingertips and held it before his eyes for a closer look. The fabric was tightly woven, its dark pattern rippling like waves, its edges traced with fine gold thread. This was not something ordinary soldiers used.

"The scar on your wrist," he suddenly said. "It looks like a snake bite. That is the brand of the Northern Desert Shadow Guard."

The other man's body stiffened slightly. It lasted only an instant, but Chen Wuya caught it.

Chen Wuya slowly stepped forward, every footfall firm and steady. "The Qingfeng Sect's Reverse Flow Hand was originally a technique that used softness to overcome hardness, dissolving force through subtle transformations. Yet when you struck with the third stance just now, you reversed your true qi and forced it into your Jianjing Acupoint, violently detonating its power. Training like that will only destroy your own meridians—unless someone forced you to train this way."

He paused, his voice dropping a little. "Three years ago, Zhao Tianying was attacked while escorting a shipment. All seven of his companions died, and only one survivor was captured. According to the surviving porters, a man in black used