Ch'en had never had a kind face for these bandits.
They were a destabilizing factor. Though they were outside Lungmen's sphere of influence, who knew whether they might wander into Lungmen? Compared to these people, even Lungmen's gangs could be called adorable.
She drew her blade.
A crimson tide swept across the earth like a mad dragon breaking free of its restraints.
It was gone in a flash.
Ch'en did not even look at the result. The instant she struck, she sheathed her sword, locking the evil dragon back inside its box.
The Treasure Hoarders' high-defense, highly mobile fortress—their pride and joy—was sliced apart by the crimson tide in a single strike. The ground trembled as though heralding a Catastrophe. She seemed to have specialized in drawing strikes; after her relentless self-harming practice last time, Ch'en's draw had undoubtedly become far more proficient.
It was certainly much better than tearing open the web between her thumb and forefinger with every swing.
She lowered Chi Xiao, drew a standard black Lungmen Guard Department blade, and silently walked forward. Blood dripped intermittently from the blade, like the irregular tolling of a long-neglected funeral bell.
Ch'en felt an indescribable fury.
The trail she had painstakingly followed had been run over by these damned bastards and their fortress, vanishing completely.
Ch'en had lost the trail!
It took only a few minutes to go from utter clamor to utter silence. She had held back, merely smashing the pommel into their spines, leaving the thieves able only to crawl away. Out here in the wilderness, that was practically a death sentence.
She stood there with a grave expression.
There had once been the little girl Rope's footprints on this ground, step by step, as clear as cat pawprints in snow, guiding Ch'en onward.
But now, those