A Practice Force Warrior!
Yan Que's voice wasn't loud, but it struck everyone's ears like thunder on a clear day, sending shockwaves through the crowd.
Practice Force Warriors were few and far between, even in White Stone City. They were rarely seen in ordinary times, and every one of them held a position of great prominence.
They never imagined they'd not only see one today, but also antagonize him.
What made it even harder to stomach was that this Practice Force Warrior could have done anything, yet he had chosen to rob passing merchant caravans.
Wasn't that just picking on honest people?
For a moment, everyone's expressions turned grim.
After learning of the Third Head's strength, the Fang Family group—which had just managed to suppress the bandits—saw the balance tip against them in the blink of an eye.
"Leave those two alive. Kill the rest!"
Just then, the Third Head pointed his saber at Yan Que and Fang Rou, then turned toward the bandits and spoke in a chilling voice.
"Yes!"
The bandits' morale soared at his words, while the Fang Family group lost their composure.
"Run!"
Yan Que ignored his injuries and shouted. In this situation, every person who escaped would count.
Then he looked at Fang Rou and, with her help, struggled to his feet.
"Rou'er, I'll hold him off. Take the chance to escape!" Yan Que said in a hushed voice.
"Uncle Yan..." Fang Rou was completely flustered. She had never faced anything like this before.
She had thought Yan Que's strength meant he wouldn't fear this band of bandits. She never expected him to be injured.
Before she could finish speaking, Yan Que stopped her with a look, signaling for her to stay quiet.
Just as he was about to pick up his saber and continue fighting the Third Head, his pupils suddenly constricted. Where was his saber?
He glanced around, but couldn't find his Steel Saber anywhere.
"Uncle Yan, watch out!"
Fang Rou suddenly cried out in alarm. Hearing her, Yan Que no longer had time to worry about where his weapon was. He looked up.
The Third Head was charging straight at him. Yan Que shoved Fang Rou aside, then charged forward instead of retreating.
The two quickly clashed again, but Yan Que was no match for the Third Head now.
After just a few exchanges, his opponent knocked him down again, leaving him grievously wounded.
Looking at the Third Head's amused expression, Yan Que said harshly, "Hmph! Kill me or cut me up, do as you please!"
"You've got a stubborn streak. Don't worry, I won't kill you."
The Third Head sneered, then abruptly changed his tone and said coldly,
"But your attitude really pisses me off. I'll cut off your arm and see if you're still so tough then!"
With that, the Third Head walked toward Yan Que, one step at a time, as if deliberately tormenting him and waiting for him to beg for mercy.
Yan Que's expression changed at once. He was a saber wielder. How could he wield a saber without an arm?
"Don't you dare hurt my uncle!" Fang Rou stood in front of the Third Head and said stubbornly.
A glint flashed in the Third Head's eyes. He sprang forward, and a fierce palm strike whistled toward her.
Bang!
"Hm? Who are you?"
A deep, muffled impact rang out.
The Third Head staggered back several steps, staring solemnly at the one-armed man in the black coat.
One arm, with half an empty sleeve, made him especially hard to miss.
He was burly and tall, his frame alone nearly twice Fang Rou's size.
Just standing there, he gave the Third Head a faint sense of pressure, and an indistinct feeling of danger lingered in his heart.
Their brief exchange had only deepened his impression of the Black-Clothed Man's strength.
This man was strong!
Thud!
In response to the Third Head's question, Su Chen said nothing. He charged straight at him.
Why waste words? He could wait until after he beat the other man to death.
Seeing this, the Third Head grunted, a trace of coldness flashing in his eyes as he shot forward like a cannonball.
"That's... my saber!"
Behind them, Fang Rou was still startled by the Black-Clothed Man's sudden appearance. Yan Que, however, happened to catch sight of the Steel Saber at Su Chen's waist.
Wasn't that his weapon?
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A fierce wind swept along with the saber's edge, bursting forth as the two clashed. It whipped at their sleeves and brushed past their hair.
Afterimages spread around them, their movements weaving through alternating light and shadow until the onlookers were dazzled, their heads spinning.
In just a moment, the two had exchanged more than ten blows, locked in a fierce struggle with neither gaining the upper hand.
"His saber skills are incredible!"
Yan Que had been worried at first that Su Chen wouldn't be a match for the Third Head. But after watching for a while, he realized that—
Su Chen's saber skills were exceptionally refined. He had clearly cultivated this technique to the utmost, perhaps even beyond it.
With his discerning eye, Yan Que could see the flaw in Su Chen's style: it packed a powerful burst, but lacked staying power.
And yet Su Chen used his own strengths to make up for that weakness, bringing the saber technique's power to its utmost.
He not only met the Third Head head-on, but even had the slight advantage, suppressing him completely.
"Ha!"
The Third Head, who had been so thoroughly suppressed that he could barely defend himself, let out a roar, as if trying to vent the frustration in his heart.
He gripped his long saber with both hands, gathering the strength throughout his body into its blade. His figure flickered, and when he found an opening, he brought the saber down in a slash.
It was like an afterimage, flashing past in an instant. A shrill sound of something tearing through the air followed.
Clang!
It sounded like iron scraping rapidly against porcelain, a shrill noise that seemed to shudder in their ears a thousand times over,
yet it had rung out in a single instant, making their eardrums tremble.
Fang Rou shuddered and instinctively covered her ears, but kept her eyes fixed on the two men.
The melee nearby was startled by the deafening sound as well. Everyone stopped fighting and turned to watch.
Two figures stood motionless in the distance, as if locked in a stalemate. After a few breaths, the crowd faintly heard a cracking sound.
Then they saw the sabers in Su Chen's and the Third Head's hands break in two and fall to the ground.
The moment their sabers snapped, both men took a step back and faced each other from a distance. A faint smell of gunpowder hung in the air.
"You're strong, but without that saber in your hand, you're no match for me."
Before his words had even faded, the Third Head suddenly hurled his saber, driving it into the ground. He stared at Su Chen and spoke harshly.
Su Chen didn't say a word.
Just then, Yan Que called out a warning from behind him. "Brother, be careful! He's a Practice Force Warrior!"
At that, Su Chen showed no trace of fear. Instead, he looked eager to test himself.
"Let's see just how powerful this so-called Practice Force Warrior is!"
He thought to himself, his eyes blazing with intense battle lust. Then he reached back and tucked the broken Steel Saber into his belt.
Yan Que's expression shifted at the sight. He clearly hadn't expected Su Chen to put away his saber right after he'd warned him.
"Heh. You're asking for death!"
The Third Head's gaze shifted too, but a ruthless look gradually surfaced on his face.
He stamped his foot down. The ground seemed to shudder, and then he shot forward.
Su Chen's pupils narrowed slightly. With every step, lotus flowers seemed to bloom beneath his feet as he charged to meet him.
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