The bandits and other outlaws bore plenty of ill will toward the three of them, especially Ding Ling.
There were no shortage of people who wanted to steal their horses, rob them, or even abduct them and force them to perform labor in their stronghold!
But no matter who they were.
Peng Yue used them all as whetstones for his blade.
Peng Yue's cultivation and swordsmanship grew more profound by the day.
At first, even killing ten men left him somewhat disordered in his movements. Later, killing fifty or a hundred became increasingly easy and effortless, as swift as walking along a road.
Peng Yue grew more and more excited and eager. Every time they traveled, he was practically raring to go, as if impatiently hoping that bandits would come and rob them!
He truly had not expected that merely two months of cultivation would make him this powerful! It had completely overturned everything he had previously believed!
After all, he had diligently trained for decades, yet could only fight two or three strong men. If someone helped him and he fought desperately, he might be able to kill seven or eight, perhaps a dozen, ordinary people.
But now?
His rate of evolution was simply inconceivable!
As a result, Peng Yue's reverence for Ding Ling grew ever deeper.
With only a little guidance from Ding Ling, he had become this powerful. He even had an extremely strong feeling that if he continued evolving like this, it might not be impossible for him to defeat a thousand enemies alone, or even ten thousand, in the future!
For that very reason.
During their journey, he took the initiative to become the one who opened the way.
That day.
While they were traveling.
Peng Yue encountered an organized army for the first time.