Three or four men crouched on either side of the exit, their weapons already drawn.
The moment Lin Feng took his first step out of the Rift, the nearest man on the left swung at him.
The blade came down along his left shoulder, aimed for his collarbone.
A Rank 1 Martial Artist. His strike was fast.
But to Lin Feng, it was absurdly slow.
He shifted half a step to the side. The blade scraped past the hem of his clothes and cut through empty air.
Lin Feng turned his right hand, sweeping his long blade upward.
Splurt.
One stroke, from hip to shoulder.
The man lowered his head and stared at the diagonal wound across his chest. His mouth opened, but no words came out. His body split down the middle and toppled in two directions.
Blood sprayed three meters.
[Steel of the Blade: 77/500]
The remaining six froze for a second.
That second was enough.
Lin Feng charged forward, stepping on the first corpse. The opening stance of Mountain-Breaking Slash unfolded naturally in his hands.
His blade came down with crushing force, as if dragging everything beneath it.
The second man raised his blade to block.
Clang!
His weapon—and the hand holding it—were cleaved in two. Half an arm spun through the air before slapping down onto the rocks.
The man screamed. Before the sound had even faded, Lin Feng's second strike swept across.
His head rolled away.
[Steel of the Blade: 78/500]
"Get him together! Don't go at him one-on-one!"
The leader finally snapped out of it and bellowed.
The five men spread out, closing in from five directions at once.
Two blocked the front, two circled around the flanks, and one leaped down from the cliff above to launch a sneak attack.
Lin Feng didn't move.
The instant all five blades entered range, he stamped his foot down hard.
The ground exploded.
Shards of stone flew everywhere, and the dust they kicked up blocked everyone's view.
In the cloud of dust, three dull thuds rang out.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
When the dust settled, three corpses lay sprawled on the ground.
One had been cleaved from shoulder to waist, another had his own broken blade buried in his throat, and a third had his head twisted a hundred and eighty degrees, facing backward.
The two survivors stood frozen in place, their blade tips trembling violently.
"What... what kind of monster are you?" The leader's voice cracked.
Lin Feng walked out of the dust, spattered with blood, his expression strangely calm.
He shook the blood from his blade.
[Steel of the Blade: 81/500]
The stacks were still climbing.
"Zhao Tianxiong sent you?"
The leader clenched his teeth and said nothing.
The younger Martial Artist beside him couldn't take it anymore. His legs gave way, and he dropped to his knees.
"Boss, please spare my life. I only took three thousand from Adjutant Zhao to do some running around. I didn't do anything else..."
The leader's face turned livid. "Shut the hell up!"
Lin Feng didn't look at the man on his knees. He kept his eyes on the leader.
"I asked you a question."
The leader gripped his blade and took a stance, ready to fight to the death.
"I've been making a living in the Northern Territory for six years, and I've never knelt to anyone!"
He roared and shot forward.
His strike was fiercer than any of the others'. He poured every last bit of his strength into it, and a faint red glow appeared along the blade.
A Rank 1 Martial Artist at his peak, giving it everything he had.
Lin Feng stood perfectly still.
Only when the blade was half a foot from the tip of his nose did he strike.
The two blades collided.
It was nothing like the clash of two evenly matched warriors.
The Alloy War Blade in the leader's hands snapped in half.
Lin Feng's blade kept going, cutting diagonally through the man's right shoulder.
Splurt—
The leader's body stiffened. He lowered his head and stared at the long blade piercing through his chest.
A mouthful of blood welled up.
"Six years..." He spat out a mouthful of bloody froth. "And I still never made it..."
Lin Feng pulled out his blade.
The corpse pitched forward, hitting the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.
The last young Martial Artist, still kneeling on the ground, had soaked his pants.
Lin Feng walked over and looked down at him.
"What other backup did Zhao Tianxiong arrange?"
The young Martial Artist shook so hard he could barely speak.
"N-no more. Just... just the seven of us. Adjutant Zhao said that if you came out of the Rift, we couldn't let you make it back to Base Camp alive."
"How many of his people are in the Base Camp?"
"I'm not sure, but everyone in the Logistics Department is on his side. At least twenty or thirty of them."
"Where's the evidence that he's been selling off supplies?"
"In his office. There's a hidden compartment in the third drawer of his desk. The key's hanging around his neck."
The young Martial Artist spilled everything he knew, speaking so quickly he was afraid that if he slowed down, he'd lose his life.
Lin Feng listened, then nodded.
"Thanks."
Relief flickered across the young man's face. He thought he'd escaped with his life.
A flash of steel.
Another head hit the ground.
The Steel of the Blade stacks stopped at 83.
When Wang Tie and Li Ming crawled out of the Rift, this was the scene that greeted them.
Seven corpses lay strewn around the Rift entrance.
The blood on the ground had gathered into little puddles, gleaming dark red in the sunlight.
Lin Feng was crouched by a stream, washing his blade at an unhurried pace.
Li Ming threw up on the spot.
Wang Tie swallowed and walked over to inspect the bodies.
"Seven Martial Artists. All dead?"
"Yeah."
"You did this alone?"
"Yeah."
Wang Tie opened his mouth, but for a long while, no second sentence came out.
He'd spent more than two years in the Northern Territory and seen all kinds of ruthless people.
But he'd never seen anyone take on seven Martial Artists and kill every last one of them in under three minutes. Not once.
Lin Feng finished washing his blade and stood up.
"On the way back, clean the blood off yourselves."
He paused.
"When we reach the Base Camp, nothing happened."
Wang Tie and Li Ming nodded in unison.
The three packed up their things and headed toward the Base Camp.
No one spoke along the way. Only their footsteps on the broken stones broke the silence.
They were almost at the Base Camp when Lin Feng suddenly stopped.
"Old Wang."
"Yeah?"
"How many of Zhao Tianxiong's people in the Base Camp can you identify?"
Wang Tie thought it over. "I know most of the people in the Logistics Department, but he's also planted a few trusted men in the Combat Department. I'll have to ask around to find out who."
"Get me a list before tonight."
Wang Tie looked at Lin Feng's back and fell silent for two seconds.
"What are you planning to do?"
Lin Feng didn't turn around.
"Zhao Tianxiong wanted me to die inside the Rift. So I'll show him what someone who walks out of a Rift can do to his lair."
Wang Tie chuckled and quickened his pace to catch up.
The three climbed over the city wall and returned to the Base Camp.
The Canteen had just opened for dinner.
Chen Lie was sitting by the entrance, gnawing on a steamed bun. When he saw the three of them approaching, he stopped with the bun at his mouth.
He stared at Lin Feng for several seconds.
"You're back?"
"We're back."
"What about the other two? Liu Gang and Zhou Yuan."
"They didn't make it back."
Chen Lie chewed twice and swallowed.
"How'd they die?"
"Exotic Beasts."
Chen Lie studied him for another moment, then stopped asking questions.
In the Northern Territory, death was all too common. People entered Rifts every day and never came back. No one cared if there were two more or two fewer.
"Did you finish the mission?"
Lin Feng pulled a fragment of rock from his bag. Faint traces of dark red mineral still clung to it.
"There was an abnormal energy source on the third level of the F-Rank Rift. It's been cleared. This is a sample."
Chen Lie took the fragment and turned it over.
"Remains from an E-Class Exotic Beast's nest?"
He jerked his head up.
"You ran into an E-Class Exotic Beast inside an F-Rank Rift?"
"Yeah."
"And killed it?"
"Yeah."
The steamed bun fell out of Chen Lie's hand. He didn't even notice.
He stood up, circled Lin Feng, and looked him up and down.
"You son of a—"
In the end, Chen Lie could only choke out four words.
"Go get something to eat."
The three went into the Canteen and found a table in the corner.
Lin Feng ate three bowls of rice and four plates of braised pork.
"Bro, that's a terrifying amount of food," Li Ming said, watching with wide eyes.
"After a breakthrough, your body's drained. I need to make up for it."
Lin Feng put down his bowl and wiped his mouth.
At the Canteen entrance, a skinny figure shifted into view, then quickly ducked back out of sight.
It was Chen Mo, the lackey who stuck close to Zhao Tianxiong.
Lin Feng had noticed him, but didn't care.
What was coming would come.
He wanted to see the look on Zhao Tianxiong's face when he learned that all seven Martial Artists had been wiped out.
After the meal, they returned to the Barracks. Wang Tie was already waiting for him with a piece of paper in hand.
Twelve names were written on the paper.
"Twelve from the Logistics Department and four from the Combat Department. These people were usually closest to Zhao Tianxiong, and ten of them were Martial Artists."
Lin Feng took the paper and read it over, then folded it and slipped it into his pocket.
"Tonight, we're going to Zhao Tianxiong's office."
Wang Tie froze for a moment. "You're going to steal evidence?"
"Not steal."
Lin Feng lay back down on the bed and placed the knife beside his pillow.
"We're taking it by force."
Before you continue