Chimu Xiong

To the north of the forest, a squad of Di soldiers was conducting a search.

The leader was Chimu Xiong, a mid-stage Inner Strength Realm martial artist, thirty-two years old this year.

He walked at the very front, gripping a scimitar in his hand, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a hawk.

Behind him followed twelve soldiers, all at the fifth level of Body Forging or higher, considered the most elite group under his command.

"Keep your spirits up!" Chimu Xiong hissed in the Di language. "Find the remnants of the Zhou Army; kill one and get a reward of five taels of silver! Kill ten, and I'll treat you all to drinks!"

The eyes of the soldiers behind him lit up, and their pace quickened.

As he walked, Chimu Xiong calculated in his heart.

He hailed from the bitter, cold lands of the grasslands; his parents had died early, and he had grown up eating food provided by the entire tribe.

He joined the army at fourteen and had been fighting for eighteen years just to reach the mid-stage of the Inner Strength Realm. The brothers under his command were all wretches like him with no background, trading their lives for military merit.

Yet, the positions of centurion never seemed to fall to them.

Why?

Just because those noble scions had good fathers?

He recalled the new centurion he had seen yesterday—barely twenty, an early-stage Inner Strength Realm martial artist who couldn't even hold his blade steady. Just because he was the son of some tribal chieftain, he had been parachuted in to be their centurion and had even dared to boss him around.

Chimu Xiong spat fiercely.

Bah! What a piece of trash!

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

Once this pursuit was over, once he had killed enough people and earned enough merit, let's see what those nobles had to say.

He would become a centurion, no matter what.

Just then, a figure suddenly appeared in the woods ahead.

Chimu Xiong's footsteps faltered, and he raised a hand to signal the squad to stop.

It was a Zhou Army soldier, wearing tattered armor and covered in blood, leaning against a tree as he slowly moved forward.

He walked very slowly, stumbling and swaying as if he were exhausted to the point of death.

Chimu Xiong narrowed his eyes, examining him carefully.

Inner Strength Realm?

The aura was unclear; he looked severely wounded, swaying as he walked.

The corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.

A heaven-sent opportunity!

A lone Zhou soldier in the Inner Strength Realm—killing him would be a great achievement! It was worth more than killing ten ordinary soldiers!

"Pursue!" He waved his hand and charged out first. "Don't let him get away!"

The twelve Di soldiers followed, howling and scrambling to rush into the forest!

The figure looked back once, a terrified expression on his face, and turned to run!

But he ran too slowly, limping and unable to gain any speed.

Chimu Xiong pursued even more fiercely.

Fifty paces.

Thirty paces.

Twenty paces.

The figure dove into a dense thicket and vanished.

Chimu Xiong charged into the bushes.

"Ah—!!!"

A scream erupted from behind him.

He whipped his head around, only to see the soldier at the very back fall straight to the ground with a blade embedded in his neck.

A black shadow lunged from the side, a flash of steel, and another soldier's head went flying!

"Ambush!!!"

Chimu Xiong roared and turned to charge, but the black shadow was too fast!

Fast as a ghost!

In a single breath, three more soldiers fell!

"Spread out! Surround him!" Chimu Xiong shouted.

The remaining soldiers scrambled to spread out, but the black shadow gave them no chance; the blade flashed again, and another soldier was cleaved in two!

"Damn it!"

Chimu Xiong finally caught a clear look at that figure.

It was a young soldier of the Great Zhou, covered in blood, yet those eyes were terrifyingly bright. The blade in his hand was as black as ink, and blood was still dripping from its edge.

Inner Strength Realm, late stage!

A minor realm higher than him!

But so what? He still had seven or eight men with him!

"All together now! Kill him!" Chimu Xiong roared as he charged forward, his scimitar slashing straight at the other man's face!

The Great Zhou soldier did not retreat but advanced instead, meeting the strike with his own blade!

"Clang—!!!"

The two blades collided, sending sparks flying everywhere!

Chimu Xiong felt a massive force surge through him, his web between thumb and forefinger numbing, and his entire body was jolted back three steps!

The Great Zhou soldier's momentum did not falter; he followed through with a horizontal sweep, cutting down another soldier who had lunged from the side!

Too fast!

Too fierce!

Chimu Xiong's expression changed drastically as he desperately steadied himself and charged again.

He refused to believe that ten men couldn't take down one!

But what happened next completely shattered his confidence.

The Great Zhou soldier fought ten men alone, yet it was like a tiger entering a flock of sheep. His swordsmanship was peerless and fierce; someone fell with every strike. His footwork was bizarre and unpredictable; even when they thought they had landed a hit, they only struck an afterimage.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

The people around him grew fewer and fewer.

The more Chimu Xiong fought, the more terrified and desperate he became.

When the last soldier fell, he finally broke down.

He turned and ran!

But he had barely taken three steps when a sharp pain erupted in his back, and he collapsed to the ground.

He struggled to roll over, only to see the Great Zhou soldier walking toward him, blade in hand, step by step.

The tip of the blade pressed against his throat.

Chimu Xiong trembled all over, shouting in broken Great Zhou language: "Spare me! Spare me!"

The Great Zhou soldier looked down at him, a smile slowly curling at the corners of his mouth.

The smile was faint, yet it made Chimu Xiong's entire body turn cold.

"How many... search parties do you have?"

Chimu Xiong's lips quivered, unable to speak.

The tip of the blade pushed forward an inch, piercing his skin as blood trickled down.

"Speak."

"Ma... many... dozens of teams..." Chimu Xiong squeezed the words out with all his might. "The Pulse-Opening Realm experts... they all went to chase the Pulse-Opening Realm experts... we... we are just searching for stragglers..."

The Great Zhou soldier nodded, as if he had known all along.

"My thanks."

With a swipe of the blade, Chimu Xiong's world plunged into darkness.

[Killed Northern Di Decurion (Inner Strength Realm, mid-stage), Points +15]

Li Jinshui sheathed his blade, wiping the blood clean on the man's clothes.

Deep in the woods, two figures emerged.

Monkey and Er Gou ran over, their eyes widening as they stared at the corpses littering the ground.

"Jinshui, this... how many teams is this now?" Monkey asked, stuttering.

Li Jinshui thought for a moment: "The fifth team."

Er Gou gasped: "Five teams... sixty or seventy Di soldiers... you killed them all by yourself?"

Li Jinshui nodded, walked to a tree, and sat down, gasping for air.

He had sustained several new wounds, and blood had soaked through his clothes. The Evergreen Art circulated frantically within his body, and his wounds were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye, but the pain remained.

Monkey leaned in, looking at him with a face full of admiration: "Jinshui, are you even human? You've been fighting for so long, killed so many, and you can still move?"

Li Jinshui ignored him, simply pulling up his panel to take a look.

[Name: Li Jinshui]

[Realm: Inner Strength Realm (Late Stage)]

[Techniques: Evergreen Art (Great Success 12/800), Rock Body (Minor Success 60/200), White Tiger Blade Technique (Great Success 136/300), Iron Thread Fist (Minor Success 0/100), Inch Step (Great Success 8/200), Marching Step (Minor Success 0/80), Iron Shirt (Perfected), Wolf Killing Seven Forms (Perfected), Tiger Walk (Perfected)]

[Points: 721]

He stared at that number, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upward.

Seven hundred and twenty-one.

Enough to push a technique from Great Success to Perfection.

Li Jinshui put away the panel and stood up, a faint smirk on his lips. "As expected of the search party, they really have plenty of points. Oh, wait, no—high realm, high military merit."

Monkey scratched his head, not quite understanding, but he didn't press the issue.

Er Gou asked cautiously from the side, "Brother Jinshui, are we... still going to keep killing?"

Li Jinshui looked up at the sky.

The sun had already sunk into the west, leaving only a streak of dark red on the horizon.

The light in the forest dimmed, and the surroundings grew eerily silent.

He shook his head.

"No more killing."

Monkey and Er Gou were both stunned.

"Why? We were doing just fine, weren't we?"

Li Jinshui glanced at them.

"We've been here for nearly half a day," he said. "We've killed dozens of people, and the commotion hasn't been small. If we attract a large force and get surrounded, we won't even be able to leave."

He pointed toward the south.

"Take advantage of the darkness and get out of here quickly."

Monkey and Er Gou exchanged a look and nodded.

The three of them packed up briefly, taking the remaining dry rations and water, and headed south.

Behind them, dozens of corpses lay scattered across the forest, gradually blurring into the night.

Li Jinshui walked at the very front, his pace swift.

His right hand remained pressed against the hilt of his blade, ready to draw at any moment.

Monkey followed behind, unable to help but ask, "Jinshui, where are we heading?"

Li Jinshui didn't look back. "North Plain City."

"Where is North Plain City?"

"To the south."

"Where in the south?"

"I don't know."

Monkey choked on his words.

Er Gou muttered quietly from behind, "Then what if we go the wrong way..."

Li Jinshui didn't answer.

He simply continued to walk forward.

Go the wrong way?

Then he would just kill until he found the right one.

As the night deepened, the figures of the three men vanished into the darkness.