Whoosh...
In the blink of an eye, three flashes of silver tore through the air toward the enemy's neck, followed by an angry roar in his ears. "You're courting death!"
Lu Changfeng had reacted in time. Three silver needles shot from his hand, striking where the enemy had to defend, stabbing straight at the black-clad man's Sun, Ermen, and Qingming Points.
A faint gleam shimmered on the needles. They shrieked through the air, unerringly seeking their acupoints.
The black-clad man gave a muffled grunt. The fierce, heavy slash he had just unleashed abruptly wheeled back like a blade of lampgrass, twisting into a ball of mirror-like light. With a soft puff, it swept away all three silver needles aimed at his acupoints.
The serrated sword spun in his hand. The black-clad man whirled, his sword light rising again with a buzzing tremor as he exchanged three moves with the charging Lu Changfeng.
Three sword strikes collided in succession—clang, clang, clang. Lu Changfeng's face flushed blood-red, his sword light faltering slightly, when a bluish-purple palm passed through the sword light and struck his chest with a thump.
"Silver Needle Swordplay? Nothing more than this."
The black-clad man threw back his head and laughed. His sword swept into a half-circle in his right hand as he prepared to press his advantage.
Hiss...
A streak of light flashed past. His waist and ribs had already been pierced by a sword, and searing pain struck his heart.
As the black-clad man lunged and darted about, Lu Wu-bing had not been frightened into falling, nor had he stepped back to evade. Instead, he stamped heavily on the ground and charged forward...
A thrusting strike drilled into his bones, fused with his body and soul, crashed forth.
The blade sank half an inch into flesh, only to feel as though it had plunged into a mire, blocked layer upon layer by surging force. It could advance no farther.
Lu Wu-bing's eyes turned fierce. He stepped forward again, his arm trembling as he exhaled sharply and shouted, intending to unleash a second burst of strength and skewer the other man clean through.
The black-clad man howled madly. No longer caring to pursue Lu Changfeng, the force around his body roared as he struck back with his palm, snapping the sword apart. Blood sprayed from beneath his ribs as he flipped backward.
While still in midair, he was hit by three more needles with three muffled puffs. Upon landing, he staggered, cracking the stone slabs beneath his feet. He stamped heavily on a flowering tree and vaulted over the wall.
Lu Changfeng had only just stopped retreating when he used his last ounce of strength to launch three silver needles. He stared fixedly as the black-clad man fled without a trace, then opened his mouth and spat out blood, his eyes filled with unwillingness.
That palm strike to his chest had carried three overlapping waves of force, injuring his internal organs. Inner energy had seeped in and run wild through his body. The fact that he had managed to fire three more silver needles meant he had already reached his limit.
The guards of the estate were even more mediocre, hardly of any use.
They could only watch helplessly as the wounded enemy left with ease, unable to give chase.
Lu Wu-bing gritted his teeth.
His decision came swiftly. He tossed aside the broken sword hilt, bent to pick up the Changfeng Sword that had fallen to the ground, then rushed to the wall. Bracing a hand on its top, he vaulted over and hurried after the man.
He knew that if he did not pursue the wounded Life-Severing Sword now, then once the man's injuries eased and he returned for a second charge, even if everyone in his family were tied together, they would not be enough for him to kill.
The Lu Family Estate had been ambushed, bathed in blood and swept into chaos, yet the street outside remained bustling with carriages and horses, its crowds flowing without end.
Lu Wu-bing saw only the black-clad man's swaying back as he rushed into the crowd, like a drop of water merging into the sea.
"Meow..."
As he tried to discern the man's direction, he felt a tug on his trouser leg. Looking down, he found that the Little Black Cat had somehow followed him. It was biting his trouser leg and pulling hard back toward the estate, seemingly telling him not to chase.
If he caught up, he might not be able to win. The enemy might even kill him instead.
"Do you think I can't see things as clearly as a little cat? But this is only the difference between long pain and short pain. There's still a sliver of a chance now... Once that bastard recovers, or brings more people, it won't be a matter of how much it hurts. It'll be a matter of how we die."
Lu Wu-bing picked up the cat and continued running at full speed.
A suffocating knot of anger lodged in his chest, impossible to spit out.
His own strength was still far too lacking.
Even after stabbing his opponent, he could not kill him. No—if the Life-Severing Sword had spared even a fraction of his attention for him, and had not been trading swordplay head-on with Old Master Lu, he would never have managed to stab him at all.
That man's movement technique was incredibly fast, his inner energy vast, and even his sinews and bones were astonishingly tough. His skin was as hard as cowhide.
In modern society, he would have been a bona fide little superman. If Lu Wu-bing faced him head-on, he might die in a single move.
Earlier, Head Constable Li had said this man was one of the seven personal disciples under Gu Dongting, sect master of the Eastern Sea Sword Sect. If all seven came, or if Gu himself came...
Fortunately, the man had already taken a sword from him and been struck in several vital acupoints by silver needles. This was precisely his weakest moment...
"He's right ahead."
As the crowd parted, Lu Wu-bing saw the black-clad man ahead leaving a bloody footprint with every step. His stride had shortened as well; clearly, he could barely hold on under his injuries.
Joy stirred in Lu Wu-bing's heart. He took a deep breath, ready to sprint forward, draw his sword, and thrust.
"Whooo..."
The wind suddenly rose.
The black-clad man turned back with a vicious grin.
His palm flipped up behind him, sending seven or eight black shadows screaming through the air, scattering into a fan-shaped spread.
They actually covered both Lu Wu-bing and all the nearby civilians.
"Iron Caltrops..."
At a glance, he saw the spiked hidden weapons all around him and heard their sharp rush through the air. A feeling of helplessness welled up in Lu Wu-bing's heart once more.
He had learned only one fast sword strike. He could save only himself.
At most, he could save one or two more people.
Judging from the incoming hidden weapons, the other four or five ordinary civilians might each be pierced clean through. The casualties would be dreadful.
What a vicious bastard.
Hatred surged through Lu Wu-bing as he prepared to throw out his sword with all his strength to block them.
Whoosh...
A fierce gale erupted beside his ears.
A green figure flashed before him and suddenly struck.
It seemed as though the sky before Lu Wu-bing's eyes had filled with starlight. The sharp aura pricked his brows taut and sent a chill through his heart.
Sword light...
Specks of light shrieked through the air, encircling every hidden weapon before them.
The sword light suddenly drew in, transforming into a soft strip of silk that flicked gently. Seven or eight Iron Caltrops clattered onto the street.
With that delay, Lu Wu-bing saw the black-clad man take a great stride and slip into the chaotic crowd. He had no idea which direction the man had fled.
Even if he wanted to chase, he could no longer do so.
"What exquisite swordplay..."
He let out a long breath. Sword light seemed to flicker before his eyes still, and he could not help blurting out his admiration.
That one sword strike fulfilled every fantasy he had ever held about martial arts.
Now this was what powerful swordplay should be. My Lu Family's inherited Primal Spirit Swordplay always feels wrong somehow. It keeps striking poses—handsome, yes; beautiful, yes; but without the slightest killing intent, and even less agility.
If the Lu Family's inherited Primal Spirit Swordplay had not looked so unimpressive in practice, Lu Wu-bing would never have thought to imitate A Fei and Jing Wuming from the stories and painstakingly train a single thrusting sword strike.
"Are you saying my Yaoguang Swordplay is beautiful?" The girl who had drawn her sword had brows like painted ink. Her large, blinking eyes brimmed with delight, and the corners of her mouth curled up without the least reserve. Two small dimples appeared on her cheeks, her spirited grace rushing toward him.
"Yes... Come back."
Lu Wu-bing had barely opened his mouth when he saw the Little Black Cat that had followed him leap toward the sword-wielding girl's embrace.
That lustful cat even dared leap into the arms of an unfamiliar young lady. Was it courting death?
Unexpectedly, even when the buns on the girl's chest were rubbed out of shape, she merely blushed and did not get angry in the slightest. Instead, she indulgently reached out to scratch the Little Black Cat beneath its chin, breaking into sweet laughter.
"Is this your cat? It's very cute."
As the young girl returned the cat, she thought for a moment before adding, "I saw earlier that you also wanted to protect everyone. Your lightness skill is a little lacking, but your heart is good."
I never learned lightness skill.
Lu Wu-bing felt slightly embarrassed.
Without waiting for his reply, a trace of pity flashed through the girl's eyes. She turned her head and lowered her voice. "Run. Escape as many as you can. Gu Dongting wants your family's sword manual. He won't stop."
After saying that, she brushed past him. Each step carried her more than a zhang, and in the blink of an eye, she was far away.
A sword manual?
What sword manual?
His family merely ran a medical clinic and apothecary. Though his father, Lu Changfeng, was praised by others, that was only people enjoying themselves within their own little circle, and everyone giving him face. He could not be considered some formidable master. As for their swordplay, there was no need to mention it...
Wait, that's not right.
Another deeply imprinted memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
His family had always said that his grandfather, Lu Chengyun, possessed unfathomable mastery in Primal Spirit Swordplay, had fought invincibly across the lands south of the sky, and bore the title Southern Sky Sword.
That sounded a little exaggerated, and he had never believed it.
After all, in this era, anyone with even a little ability—regardless of whether their martial arts or swordplay were truly impressive—needed a resounding title and an exciting story. No one took it too seriously.
But thinking about it now, could the prestige of the original owner's grandfather have been not empty boasting, but a true account?
Lu Wu-bing's heart shook violently. The events of these past days flashed through his mind like flickering shadows. No wonder everything had felt so damned familiar.
Damn, could it be the Evil-warding Swordplay Manual?
Before you continue