The Lamps Still Burned, but Death Drew Near

"Then go die!"

Before he could finish speaking, the bandit leader suddenly sprang up.

With a flash, he was already in front of Qin Wangchuan, and slashed down with his sword!

Zhou Heng's pupils suddenly contracted as he stood inches away.

Chen Yan, standing behind him, also tensed up, his grip on the knife tightening abruptly.

Almost simultaneously, the same thought exploded in their minds—

Wow, so fast!

So fast that it left only a blur.

I couldn't see it at all!

Such a disheveled bandit is actually Cultivator...?

Before the thought had even settled in his mind...

Zhou Heng suddenly felt a heat on his cheek; something warm had splashed onto him.

I subconsciously raised my hand and wiped it off; it was red.

Bring it close to your nose.

A fishy smell.

It's blood!

He raised his head in a daze.

The bandit leader remained in the posture of raising his hand to strike.

That was a strike aimed at taking a life, ruthless and merciless, leaving no room for retreat.

But halfway through the chop, he and his sword froze in mid-air, completely still.

Only then did Qin Wangchuan slowly turn around.

His gaze swept lightly across the terrified face without lingering, and landed on the knife frozen in mid-air.

He then raised his hand, gently pinched the blade with his fingertips, and removed a fragment.

Just like that.

The seemingly intact steel knife suddenly crumbled into pieces, turning into countless fragments that clattered to the ground.

Zhou Heng, who was standing right next to Qin Wangchuan, couldn't understand what was happening at all.

He felt that the bandit was frozen in place, which was strange and eerie, and he didn't make a sound for a long time.

Why did it suddenly stop moving?

Doubts arose.

The next instant, his eyes widened in shock!

Without warning, the first line of blood appeared on the bandit's body.

It grows from the top of the head, spreading straight down, across the brow and chest, and disappearing into the ground.

Then came the second, the third...

Five blood lines split open side by side, perfectly aligned without the slightest deviation.

The next moment.

The stiff body then split open from top to bottom along the five vertical lines, neatly dividing into six pieces, which slid softly to the sides and fell into the muddy water.

No one saw when it was made.

Even though it was so close, I couldn't see it clearly.

Only then did Qin Wangchuan lower his eyes to look at the piece of broken iron in his palm and nod slightly.

The practice I've been doing during this period has yielded results.

The path of the Sword Dao is the most difficult to master.

Back in the Immortal Court, he wanted to cleave a person in two, but with careful control, he could only manage three sword strikes, splitting them into four pieces.

And at this moment.

Five swords, six levels, not a single detail off.

A deathly silence suddenly enveloped the entire room.

The remaining bandits stood frozen in place, their fierce expressions gradually fading into a deep-seated terror.

"Run!"

It's unclear who shouted first.

This sound seemed to pierce the frozen Deathly Stillness, and without caring about anything else, he turned and ran for his life into the woods.

Cultivator with such abilities are far beyond their reach.

However, they had only taken half a step.

The next instant, heads flew high into the air without warning and were thrown into the rain.

There were no screams, no struggles.

They didn't feel any pain when they died; this was the greatest mercy Qin Wangchuan could show them.

After the blood rain subsided, the mountain path returned to silence.

After doing all this, Qin Wangchuan turned around and looked at Zhou Heng and Chen Yan, who were still standing there in a daze.

Let's go.

"Leave?" Zhou Heng was stunned, not quite understanding for a moment, and subconsciously asked, "Where... where to?"

Qin Wangchuan had already taken a step forward, but upon hearing this, he turned back and glanced at him.

"Now that the person has been found..."

"Our current priority is revenge."

"Wait, wait a minute!"

Although Chen Yan hadn't yet figured out what was going on, he had a vague premonition.

If we don't speak up and stop it, things are likely to spiral out of control.

"This... is Zhou Heng's friend?"

He composed himself and forced himself to continue.

"I don't know how to ask about what you did just now... Anyway, thank you for saving me."

"But Broken Tiger Stronghold has a large and powerful force, and I've also heard that Cultivator at the ninth level is stationed there."

"How about this, let's go back and report first, and then discuss it further, shall we?"

His words were well-organized and logical, without letting the slight panic of surviving the ordeal cloud his judgment.

Qin Wangchuan glanced at him, a barely perceptible hint of approval flashing in his eyes.

Then, he slowly closed the umbrella in his hand.

"It's fine."

His voice was very soft.

"I'm here, everything will be alright now."

Chen Yan opened his mouth, wanting to persuade him again.

He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze suddenly halting.

Only then did they realize that the continuous drizzle had already soaked everyone else.

Only this young man before me.

He closed the umbrella and stood in the rain, yet his robes remained completely dry.

Realizing this, his pupils suddenly contracted, and a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

Could this person also be a Cultivator?

--

Compared to the carnage on the mountain path, the scene inside Broken Tiger Stronghold was quite different.

The main hall in the village was brightly lit and filled with the smell of alcohol.

The long table was piled high with fish and meat. The leaders sat on either side of the main seat, while a large group of henchmen crowded around them, playing drinking games, pouring drinks, and gnawing on meat, creating a noisy scene.

Tonight's meal is a welcome back to someone who has just returned to the village.

Surrounded by the crowd and seated at the head of the table was Zhao Biao, the fourth-ranking leader of the village.

To avoid the investigation by the people from Soaring Tower, he hid outside for three years and only managed to return today.

After a few rounds of drinks, Zhao Biao downed a large bowl, slammed the bowl on the table, and started cursing.

"That damn Soaring Tower, they've been investigating me for so long, I don't know what they're after."

"If you ask me, why be afraid of him? If he's got guts, he should just fight them and have a good time!"

"Shut your mouth, Fourth Brother."

The second-in-command, Qian Tong, sitting at the lower end of the table, frowned and interrupted him in a deep voice.

"My Eldest Brother his reasons for sending you out to lay low."

"If you hadn't made enemies everywhere and gotten yourself into a mess, would we have needed to send someone with you to lay low?"

Zhao Biao curled his lip, his face full of disdain, but he didn't dare to retort.

Although he was only ranked fourth in the village, in terms of background, he and the Eldest Brother had been brothers since childhood, struggling together and single-handedly supporting the village.

Even if the sky falls, the Eldest Brother will hold it up.

What's there to be afraid of?

Thinking this to himself, he didn't dare say it aloud, but just silently picked at the meat in his bowl, muttering something indistinctly.

"... I was just saying it offhand."

Just then...

A person rushed in from outside the hall, stumbling and crawling, his face deathly pale.

"Reporting! Chief, all leaders!"

"Something's happened! At the gate of the village... the brothers guarding the gate have been killed!"

Upon hearing this, the noise in the room abruptly ceased.

"Good heavens, they've come all the way to the door?"

Zhao Biao suddenly stood up, overturned the wine bowl in front of him, and a fierce glint flashed in his eyes.

"Where did this blind fool come from? Are you tired of living?!"

He grabbed the knife from the table and was about to rush out.

"Sit down."

A deep voice came from deep within the hall.

It wasn't tall, but it felt like a heavy stone pressing down on him, and Zhao Biao's fiery temper abruptly stopped.

Footsteps sounded.

A burly figure walked slowly out of the inner hall, walked unhurriedly to the main seat, and sat down steadily.

The newcomer was none other than Sun Yue, the leader of Broken Tiger Stronghold.

He didn't react immediately, nor did he ask any further questions about the word "attack." He simply glanced at Zhao Biao.

"What's the panic?"

Zhao Biao reluctantly sheathed his knife and sat down again.

Sun Yue then calmly looked at the messenger, his voice steady.

Explain yourself.

"How many people came? Who are they?"

The messenger was panting heavily, swallowed hard, and his voice was trembling uncontrollably.

"Three... three people."

"They all look like teenagers, so young..."

"But the leader is inexplicably strong! The brothers we sent to meet him, somehow, in the blink of an eye... they were all dead!"

"Not a single one was left alive!"

The words had barely left his mouth.

There was a moment of silence in the hall, followed by a burst of laughter.

"Hahaha, three kids who haven't even grown their hair yet, and they slaughtered our whole team?"

"I think you're scared out of your wits; you must have seen a ghost on the street!"

"What trouble can a few young lads cause? Or are you just a coward who's making up this lie to fool the boss?"

The assembled leaders burst into laughter, none of them taking the messenger's words seriously.

Zhao Biao sneered and picked up his wine bowl again.

"I don't consider this a big deal."

"A few greenhorn brats dare to run wild in our Broken Tiger Stronghold."

"After I finish this meal, I'll go and meet them myself."

Only Sun Yue, seated at the head of the table, did not laugh.

He held the wine cup, his gaze fixed intently on the messenger's deathly pale face, and narrowed his eyes.