Striking at the Vital Point
"Those three rogue cultivators really didn't make many moves. They watched from beginning to end."
Feng Tie tucked the short hammer back into his belt and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The cut on his left arm was still seeping blood. He tore off a corner of his robe and pressed it over the wound, then looked once more toward Baishui Town.
Lin Taichu stood atop the dirt slope for a while. Once his breathing had evened out, he said, "Back to Luofeng City."
The three rose into the air on their swords and flew south. The wind blew in from the north, carrying the smell of smoke and fire from Baishui Town, but after they had flown some distance, it dispersed.
There was no moon in the sky, and thick clouds hung overhead. The land below was a vast, dark expanse. Now and then, they could spot a few pinpricks of light on the road below—the lanterns of travelers hurrying along through the night.
By the time they reached the skies above Luofeng City, the horizon was already turning pale. The torches atop the city walls still burned, and two rows of city guard cultivators stood at the gates—twice the usual number.
Zhao Feng stood on the gate tower, looking down. When he saw Lin Taichu and the other two descend from the sky, he quickly came down from the tower.
"You're back. I heard about Baishui Town. As soon as Zhou Jin's Communication Talisman arrived, I mobilized the city guards. The gates have been guarded ever since, but no one has come."
Lin Taichu nodded. He took two steps into the city and stopped beneath the gate passage. Leaning the Iron Sword against the wall, he suddenly went slack.