The Imperial City Department's agents, whether in close combat or in formation standoffs, were no match for these wandering jianghu drifters who had appeared from who knew where.
Any martial artist who could enter the Imperial City Department as an agent had to be at least Eighth Rank and above.
And Eighth Rank and above was already enough to count as an expert in the jianghu.
Even the personally taught senior disciples of some sects were merely Eighth Rank.
That alone showed just how deep the Imperial City Department's foundations ran.
Thus, although the agents numbered only one hundred and fifty and held no numerical advantage,
they were not at a disadvantage in their fight against the three hundred or so black-clad men. Instead, they faintly held them down...
"Who are you?!"
In the darkness, the eyes of the two Fourth Rank Martial Artists clad in black, visible beyond their black face coverings, shifted slightly as they looked toward Liu Shishi in midair.
"Is this sword's reputation in the jianghu still not great enough?"
The corners of Liu Shishi's lips lifted slightly as her lovely eyes blinked at the two men.
Whoosh!
A blue sword radiance suddenly flashed forth.
It was her sword.
After carving a circle through the ground below, it returned to her hand.
Smack! As she gripped the hilt, her eyes turned blue.
"Guide spirit with qi, guide sword with spirit; when the Cold Soul emerges, the world shall be swept clean!"
The sixteen words slowly left her lips.
Clear and cold, like chunks of ice colliding, every word rippled beside their ears and left them entranced.
If Zeng Anmin had been here, he would likely have been speechless.
She could clearly speak with a Jing accent, and her voice was so lively and pleasing. Why did