Zhao Min, watching from afar, turned back at the sight. Not only was she unmoved, she sneered instead.
"Idiot," she cursed inwardly. "Knowing it can't be done and doing it anyway—that's bravery? That's stupidity!"
Facing the blade that came cleaving straight at him, powerful enough to split stone, Lin Xuan neither dodged nor retreated.
Just as the edge of the blade was three inches from his forehead, the Fixed Light Sword in his hand moved.
It struck later, yet arrived first.
"Pfft!"
A cold flash streaked past, so fast that no one could see its path.
Prince Muhan's movements abruptly froze. His curved blade remained raised in midair, but the momentum of his charge came to a sudden halt.
"I'm not willing..."
Prince Muhan forced out a few words, the light in his eyes swiftly fading.
The next instant, a head flew into the air.
Blood gushed forth. The headless corpse swayed twice before crashing heavily into the dust.
Lin Xuan flicked the blood droplets from his sword and looked down at the corpse by his feet. "Since you wanted a quick death so badly, I'll grant you the reputation you sought. I'll take your head."
In the distance, Zhao Min showed little grief as she watched Muhan die miserably. Instead, she seemed coldly relieved.
"Better that he's dead."
Zhao Min's gaze was icy. "At least that arrogant fool won't cause me more trouble later. But... this Lin Xuan truly is a grave threat."
She took one long look at the white-clad figure standing beside the corpse, burying that killing intent deep within her eyes.
"Go! Withdraw, all of you!"
Zhao Min decisively gave the order. Taking the heavily wounded Golden Wheel Dharma King and the still-shaken Xuanming Elders with her, she quickly vanished into the depths of the forest.