Jie Se withdrew his hand. Not a trace of blood stained his palm; only a faint rosy haze slowly dissipated. The black-clad man collapsed limply to the ground like a heap of mud, as if every bone in his body had been pulled out in an instant.
"The target's tough! Form up!"
The remaining Xi Dao assassins finally reacted. Seeing their leader killed in a single move, the terror in their eyes was instantly replaced by ferocity.
As Death Warriors, they had no way back.
"Kill!"
The four men roared in unison and drew their short blades, turning into four black bolts of lightning as they lunged at Jie Se from all directions at once.
Their coordination was seamless. The glinting blades wove a tight, impenetrable net, sealing off every escape route.
"How dull."
Jie Se stood amid the flashing blades. Not only was he unruffled, he even sighed, sounding a little bored.
"Attached to appearances."
He shifted his footwork. His crimson monk's robe bloomed like a Higanbana, leaving a string of afterimages in the night sky.
The blades slashed through the air, shattering nothing but red phantoms.
Jie Se moved like a butterfly darting through flowers, appearing behind one assassin like a specter. His fingertip lightly brushed the Da Zhui Point at the back of the man's neck.
The assassin shuddered all over. The short blade in his hand abruptly turned against his will. With a thud, he plunged it viciously into his own thigh!
"Ah!" His scream had barely begun when Jie Se had already drifted away.
"Form is emptiness."
He appeared beside another man and swept out his wide sleeve. A cloud of pink smoke burst from the cuff and hit the assassin square in the face.
The man inhaled just once, and his face instantly flushed