Try Moving Him Again?

Ding!

A soft sound rang out.

The silver longsword in the white-clad youth's hand was firmly caught between two of Lin Feng's fingers, unable to advance a single inch further.

The youth's handsome face instantly drained of all color.

He used every ounce of strength he had to pull the sword back, but those two fingers were like iron clamps, unmoving.

How was this possible?

This sword of his was a C-grade weapon bestowed by an elder of his clan, sharp enough to slice through iron like mud.

Though this strike hadn't used his full power, it still carried a thousand jin of force.

And yet, the other party had caught it with just two fingers?

What kind of monster was this person?

"Your swordsmanship isn't bad, but your strength is too weak."

Lin Feng commented flatly, then drew Mountain Splitter and slashed out.

Crack!

A crisp sound.

The tip of that C-grade silver longsword snapped off cleanly.

The white-clad youth clutched the broken half of his sword, stumbling back seven or eight steps before barely steadying himself.

He looked down at the smooth cut on the broken blade in his hand, then raised his head to stare at the cloaked figure, his eyes filled with shock and terror.

"You... who exactly are you?"

"Just a passing troll."

Lin Feng casually tossed away the broken tip between his fingers and clapped his hands.

He was now basically certain that this kid really had no guardian nearby.

Otherwise, the moment he snapped the sword, the other party would have already jumped out.

A genius without a bodyguard was nothing but a fat lamb waiting to be butchered.

Lin Feng's gaze began to turn hostile.

Just as he was about to step forward, strip the kid clean, and see what treasures he had on him—

A cold voice suddenly rang out from behind him.

"Try moving him again, and see what happens."

Lin Feng's body stiffened abruptly.

A sharp sense of crisis surged from behind.

Without a second thought, he immediately executed Lost Trace Step, his body turning into a blur as he sidestepped several meters away.

Almost the moment he left his original spot—

An invisible force brushed past the edge of his clothes and slammed heavily into the ground where he had just stood.

Boom!

A dull explosion.

The hard rock floor was blasted into a half-meter-deep crater, with debris scattering everywhere.

Lin Feng turned his head to look, his pupils contracting slightly.

There, not far behind him, a black-clad middle-aged man had appeared out of nowhere.

The man was tall, with an ordinary face, but his eyes brimmed with killing intent.

A vast, heavy aura radiated from his body.

Martial Master!

Lin Feng's heart sank.

He hadn't sensed this person's presence at all.

It was as if the man had materialized from thin air.

What kind of concealment technique was this?

"Uncle Fu!"

The white-clad youth, seeing the black-clad middle-aged man, was both surprised and delighted. He quickly ran over, hiding behind him like a wronged child, pointing at Lin Feng and tattling.

"Uncle Fu! It's him! He stole my Magic Core and broke my sword!"

The middle-aged man called Uncle Fu kept his gaze locked on Lin Feng, his eyes icy.

"Who are you, sir? Why are you laying hands on my young master?"

His voice was hoarse, carrying not a trace of emotion.

Lin Feng tightened his grip on the Mountain Splitter's hilt.

Trouble.

A Martial Master, and one skilled in stealth at that.

Even as a fourth-stage Martial Artist with an A-grade battle blade in hand, his odds against this opponent were uncertain.

What's more, there was still that white-robed youth watching like a hawk from the side.

That kid's swordsmanship was strange—low in realm, but if it came to a fight, he could cause no small amount of trouble.

"Misunderstanding."

Lin Feng decisively chose to follow his gut.

A wise man doesn't court danger.

Run if you can't win, cave if you can't run—that was the first survival rule he'd learned in the Northern Territory.

He raised both hands, signaling he meant no harm.

"I saw this young brother surrounded by demon beasts, in a perilous situation, so I stepped in to help. Didn't expect my help to cause a misunderstanding instead—my apologies."

As he spoke, he pulled out the Phantom Demon Fox's Magic Core from his pocket and tossed it over.

"This is the young brother's spoils—returning it to its rightful owner."

The white-robed youth caught the Magic Core instinctively, stunned for a moment.

How did this guy flip his attitude so fast?

Uncle Fu stared at Lin Feng, the killing intent in his eyes undiminished.

"Helping out? From where I'm standing, it looked more like robbery."

"Definitely a misunderstanding." Lin Feng's tone was utterly sincere. "I'm just a warm-hearted guy—can't stand seeing someone in trouble without wanting to lend a hand. Maybe my way of helping was a bit unusual, and it made the young brother misunderstand."

Seeing they still didn't buy it, he gritted his teeth, pulled out the dozens of E-grade Magic Cores he'd snatched along the way, and dumped them on the ground with a clatter.

"Consider these my apology to the young brother. We're all out here on the road—life's hard enough. Let's be friends, look out for each other."

Staring at the pile of Magic Cores glowing with various colors, the white-robed youth and Uncle Fu were both stunned.

This... just how many people had this guy robbed?

Lin Feng watched their shocked expressions, his heart bleeding.

These were all cores he'd painstakingly scavenged as a sneaky opportunist, risking a beating from a crowd, one by one.

Now, just to save his skin, he'd handed them all over.

What a loss!

"So? Is my sincerity enough?" Lin Feng forced a smile. "If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

With that, he turned to make a break for it.

"Stop."

Uncle Fu's voice was cold.

Lin Feng froze mid-step, his heart sinking.

Even this wasn't enough?

Did they really want him to fight to the death?

Then Uncle Fu spoke slowly: "Leave the Magic Cores. And that blade on you—leave it too."