"You... you weren't hurt at all..."
He tried to speak, but all that came from his throat was a wheezing "huh-huh."
The ghost-head saber in his hand clanged to the ground, and his massive body crashed down after it. Only in death did he realize that the intelligence had been a complete and utter trap.
The battle was over in the space of a few breaths.
The one-eyed leader was dead, and seven or eight Black Cloud Sect disciples lay on the ground, dead or wounded.
The few who remained had already been terrified by the bloody, efficient slaughter. They scrambled away, crying for their mothers and fathers, and fled into the depths of the forest.
Qin Hongmian slowly sheathed her saber. Standing amid the wreckage of corpses and wounded men, she had not a speck of blood on her black outfit.
Her icy gaze slowly turned toward Lin Xuan, who had stood motionless in the same spot from beginning to end.
Lin Xuan still looked utterly calm, as if the bloody battle that had just taken place had been nothing more than an inconsequential play.
There was even a faintly amused smile on his face, as though he had been admiring her saber technique.
Yet in Qin Hongmian's eyes, his composure took on an entirely different meaning.
She saw a hint of pallor on Lin Xuan's handsome face (in truth, his skin was naturally fair), and his gaze seemed a little "dazed" (in truth, he was simply amused).
Naturally, she assumed that this handsome young man, who couldn't even lift a chicken, had been scared senseless by the bloody scene.
Qin Hongmian's willow-like brows knit slightly, and undisguised disgust flashed in her eyes.
The sort of man who looked good but was useless was the kind she despised most.