The Bloody Wharf (Part Three)
At that moment, the night wind suddenly began to howl, as though a thousand troops and ten thousand steeds were charging through the darkness.
As the wind rose, ripples naturally spread across the river. Beneath the moonlight, countless silver serpents seemed to dance wildly across its surface, while the blades in the bandits' hands on the pier looked all the more grim and terrifying.
"..."
However, Yue Buqun paid it no mind. He stood with one hand on his sword and the other behind his back, his white robes snapping in the wind, his gaze icy.
He waited a while, then suddenly leaped onto the pier. With a flick of his long sword, he let its edge catch the moonlight and gleam with a chilling glint. The tip angled toward the river as he coolly sneered:
"Just now—"
"Who was it that said my Huashan swordsmanship was nothing special?"
"Why not come and test it?"
Then he spoke, his voice not loud, but every word as cold as ice.
When he had finished, he stood proudly at the end of the pier, signaling that the masked men in black who had just defeated his eldest disciple, Linghu Chong, could make their move.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The masked men in black exchanged glances, a flicker of panic in their eyes. They looked at one another, too. Since they knew nothing about Yue Buqun's true abilities, none of them dared rush forward just yet.
But soon enough!
After only a brief hesitation, the uncertainty in their eyes was replaced by ruthless resolve.
One of the masked men in black sneered, then laughed derisively in a hoarse voice:
"Ha ha ha ha!"
"Master Yue, you certainly know how to put on a show!"
"What, your disciple