The entrance to the Rift was enclosed by a ring of barbed wire, with a makeshift sentry post built nearby.
When Lin Feng walked up to the sentry post, two men wearing the War Wolf Martial Artist Group's uniforms reached out to stop him.
The one in the lead was a burly man. He made no effort to conceal the aura of an eighth-stage Martial Artist radiating from him.
"Stop. What are you here for?"
"To enter the Rift." Lin Feng kept it brief.
The burly man looked him up and down, then sneered.
"New around here? You know the rules?"
"What rules?"
"Entry fee. Eighty thousand." The burly man held up a finger. "Cash."
Eighty thousand?
Lin Feng frowned.
That was expensive.
He'd earned 1.2 million at the Black Market. He'd sent 400,000 to his younger sister, spent 780,000 on a blade, and kept the remaining 20,000 as pocket money.
After killing three people at the Black Market earlier, he'd gotten another 50,000, bringing his total to 70,000.
Wang Tie had given him some elixirs. He didn't know if they could cover the entry fee.
He took the elixirs out of his pocket.
"I only have seventy thousand, plus these elixirs. That should be enough."
The burly man's expression darkened.
"Elixirs? You think you can fob me off with this junk?"
The tall, skinny man beside him chimed in. "Kid, if you don't have the money, get lost. Don't hold up our business."
Lin Feng fell silent for two seconds, then pulled the Sergeant Major badge from his pocket.
"I'm the Sergeant Major of the Sixth Defense Line. Do me a favor and give me a discount."
He wasn't trying to throw his weight around. He was just genuinely out of money.
The burly man saw the badge and froze for a moment. Then he exchanged a glance with the skinny man, and they both burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! Sergeant Major? You?" The burly man laughed so hard that tears nearly streamed from his eyes. "Kid, which street stall did you buy that fake from? I know most of the Sergeants Major at the Sixth Defense Line, and I've never seen you before."
The skinny man clutched his stomach, laughing too. "Young people these days will do anything to save a few bucks—even throw away their dignity. A Sergeant Major, huh? Why not claim you're the commander while you're at it?"
Lin Feng put the badge away.
So much for that approach.
He looked at the burly man and said, "How about this? Let's make a bet."
"A bet?" The burly man stopped laughing and regarded him with interest. "What kind?"
"I'll put everything I've got into one slash. If you can take it standing up, I'll turn around and leave right away. If you can't..."
"What if I can't?"
"Let me in for free."
The burly man burst out laughing again.
He pointed at himself and said to the skinny man, "Did you hear that? This kid says he'll take me down with one slash."
The skinny man laughed too. "Brother Ma, he probably doesn't know you're an eighth-stage Martial Artist, one of the top five fighters in the War Wolf Martial Artist Group."
The burly man was Ma Kui, and he really did have a reputation in this area.
He cracked his neck with a series of pops.
"Kid, I'm in a good mood today, so I'll play along. But I'll warn you now: I'm going to hit back. If you get hurt, don't blame me."
Lin Feng said nothing. He gripped Mountain Splitter and began to gather strength.
Ma Kui's gaze shifted slightly when he saw the blade.
A fine blade.
Its scabbard was battered, but the blade itself was made of extraordinary material. The Spirit Patterns rippling across it were clearly of a high grade.
"Interesting." Ma Kui dropped his condescending air, drew a thick-backed Mountain-Splitting Blade from his waist, and held it across his chest. "Come on, kid..."
He hadn't even finished speaking when the smile vanished from Ma Kui's face.
That blade aura—
Something was wrong!
This was no aura an ordinary Martial Artist could possess!
"Wait!"
Ma Kui suddenly sensed something was off. A terror rising from the depths of his soul made his scalp prickle.
He wanted to call it off, but it was already too late.
Lin Feng's blade came down.
Mountain-Breaking Slash!
Lin Feng unleashed the slash with brutal force.
The blade tore through the air with a piercing whistle.
Ma Kui's pupils contracted to pinpricks.
Fast!
Too fast!
Only one thought remained in his mind.
Run!
He tried to dodge, but his legs began to tremble uncontrollably. They no longer obeyed him.
The breath of death rushed toward him.
He could even make out the dark golden Spirit Patterns rippling along the blade, and feel the searing heat as its edge cleaved through the air.
Time seemed to slow at that moment.
Ma Kui's mind went blank.
He was going to die. That slash was going to split him in two.
Just as the blade was about to touch the tip of his nose, that world-shattering power abruptly vanished.
Mountain Splitter's tip stopped less than a centimeter from his brow.
The force of the wind from the blade swept his bangs backward, leaving a faint white line between his eyebrows.
Ma Kui stood frozen, not daring to move.
Cold sweat poured from his temples, soaking through his combat uniform in an instant.
The tall, skinny man behind him had been so scared that his legs gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, a foul stench rising from his pants.
Lin Feng slowly withdrew his blade.
Mountain Splitter slid back into its scabbard.
The suffocating pressure vanished with it.
Ma Kui's legs gave way. He dropped to his knees with a thud, and the Mountain-Splitting Blade in his hand clattered to the ground.
He gasped for breath, his chest heaving violently.
For that split second, he'd truly believed he was dead.
"Can I go in now?"
Lin Feng's voice was calm, his emotions impossible to read.
Ma Kui raised his head and looked at the young man before him, so young it was almost unbelievable. The contempt and arrogance in his eyes were gone, replaced by deep fear and awe.
"Y-yes... you can..." His voice trembled.
He now believed with absolute certainty that the Sergeant Major badge was genuine.
How could someone capable of unleashing such a terrifying blade aura be an ordinary Martial Artist?
A Martial Master!
That was absolutely Martial Master-level power!
A Martial Master who wasn't even twenty?
Ma Kui didn't dare think any further.
He struggled to his feet, picked up his blade, then bowed respectfully to Lin Feng.
"Sir, I was blind to Mount Tai. I've offended you greatly. Please forgive me."
He took a card from his pocket and offered it with both hands.
"This is your entry fee. I'll cover it as an apology."
Lin Feng glanced at him but didn't refuse. He took the card and tucked it into his pocket.
"Thanks."
With that, he turned and headed for the Rift entrance.
Ma Kui watched Lin Feng's back and had just breathed a sigh of relief when, the next second, his eyes widened again.
Lin Feng's figure left a string of blurry afterimages where he stood. In the blink of an eye, he was already more than ten meters away, at the Rift entrance.
Whoosh!
It was just like teleportation.
Lost Trace Step!
Ma Kui swallowed with difficulty.
That movement technique.
That blade technique.
He'd actually wanted to fight this kind of monster?
He'd been like a man hanging himself from a longevity star's neck—asking to die.
"B-Brother Ma..." The skinny man trembled as he crawled over. "Who was that?"
Ma Kui wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "Someone we can't afford to mess with."
He watched Lin Feng disappear into the Rift entrance, his expression complicated.
Then, as if remembering something, his face changed again.
"Damn it!"
"What is it, Brother Ma?"
"Ghost Blade went in there today too!"
At the name "Ghost Blade," the skinny man's face turned white as well.
Ghost Blade was a ruthless Martial Artist in the area, at the peak of the Martial Artist realm. His blade work was so superb that it seemed to come from ghosts and gods.
"Do you think that sir might run into Ghost Blade?" the skinny man asked worriedly.
Ma Kui gave a bitter laugh.
"They're bound to meet. The Rift's only so big."
He paused, then shook his head.
"But the one we should be worried about now isn't that sir."
He stared into the depths of the Rift and murmured to himself,
"I just wonder whose blade is faster—the Ghost Blade's, or that sir's."
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