In full view of everyone, Feng Jun cut the man down with a single slash, then let out a cold laugh.
"Who gave you the nerve to argue with me... Has anyone else from the City Lord's Manor come?"
The lackeys of powerful families were among the groups he despised most. They had come running their mouths in front of him—did they really think he did not dare kill?
A middle-aged man walked over trembling, speaking fearfully. "I-I am a steward of the City Lord's Manor."
He was dressed quite elegantly, far better than most, but he looked like an old ox being led to slaughter, tears nearly spilling from his eyes.
Feng Jun looked him over and was somewhat surprised. "You were actually once... a Martial Ancestor?"
"I was hot-blooded when I was young and got injured in a fight," the middle-aged man answered cautiously.
Perhaps because Feng Jun did not sound as harsh as he had imagined, he found a little more courage.
His words gradually became smoother. "It was never fully healed afterward... What instructions does my lord have for the City Lord's Manor?"
Feng Jun raised a hand and pointed at the decapitated archer. "That bastard shot two arrows at me just now. Shouldn't the City Lord give me an explanation?"
"B-but..." The middle-aged man began trembling again. "B-but hasn't he already paid the price?"
Feng Jun frowned. "The price he paid was only for offending me. Was he protecting his own home, or the City Lord's Manor?"
The middle-aged man frowned and thought for a moment before answering quietly, "His family lives in there as well."
Though this archer was merely a Martial Venerable, he was an archery grandmaster rarely seen across the entire continent.
It was a rather niche profession, but on the battlefield,