The Sword Leaves Its Sheath

The expressions of the guests filling the hall varied, and each harbored vastly different thoughts.

Quite a few righteous martial arts experts, who had always upheld the code of the martial world, saw Wu Hen's vicious methods and indiscriminate slaughter. Hearing as well that Black Tiger Stronghold had committed countless evils in the past, their anger surged. Unable to restrain themselves, they flipped their wrists around the weapons at their waists, ready to step forward and help the Xie Household stand against these black-clad assassins.

Yet the overwhelming majority of wealthy nobles and old-school martial world figures merely sat coldly by, holding their ground.

For thirty years, grudges in the martial world had remained tangled beyond reckoning; right and wrong could not be settled in a few words. Moreover, every assassin from Black Tiger Stronghold was an elite fighter, and their leader, Wu Hen, was an Acquired Grade One powerhouse.

All under heaven bustled for profit; all under heaven jostled for gain.

The martial world had always put profit first and sought only to preserve itself wisely.

Xie Xuanyuan, the Xie Household's sole Grade One expert, was already past sixty, and more than half his cultivation had long since declined. He no longer possessed the imposing might of his prime. The household head, Xie Huaijin, had spent years deeply entrenched in officialdom; his martial cultivation had barely remained at Acquired Grade Three, utterly incapable of stopping a fiend like Wu Hen.

What was more, the enemy lurked in darkness while they stood in the light. The danger ahead was unknown. Rashly choosing a side would not only bring no benefit, but might also set a fire that burned their own bodies and brought calamity upon their own Lineage.

No one was willing to wade into this muddy water for nothing!

Wang Zhongze, seated among the guests, was the only person present who truly possessed the strength to contend with Wu Hen.

As head of the Wang Clan and an Acquired Grade One powerhouse, he had the greatest seniority and the most prestigious reputation.

For a moment, every gaze in the hall converged upon him.

Suppressing the grief of losing his son, Xie Huaijin urgently pleaded, "Clan Head Wang! The Xie Household is in mortal danger. I beg you to lend us a hand! If we can survive this calamity today, the Xie Household will forever remember your immense kindness. We will prepare lavish gifts and vast sums of money, and repay you for generations to come. We would never dare owe you in the slightest!"

"Hmph!"

With a cold snort, Wu Hen raised his hand and flung out a jade ring exquisitely carved with cloud patterns. It landed with a crisp clang before Wang Zhongze's table.

"Clan Head Wang, surely this ring is not unfamiliar to you."

"If you stay out of this, he lives. If you intervene, he dies. Weigh which matters more yourself."

"You dare!"

Wang Zhongze was both shocked and enraged. He sprang to his feet, his expression shifting between light and shadow, yet in the end, he could do nothing.

After weighing the matter again and again, he suppressed the indignation in his chest and raised a hand to stop his clan members from stepping forward. His clear voice rang through the hall. "Grudges of the martial world shall be settled within the martial world. This is a blood-deep feud between Black Tiger Stronghold and the Xie Household. We outsiders should not interfere."

With those words, he utterly extinguished the remaining guests' thoughts of taking action.

Several martial artists who had been itching to move sheathed their weapons one after another and silently withdrew. No one dared make another move.

Wu Hen threw back his head in a crazed, sinister laugh. The baleful aura around him surged, his killing intent fully unleashed, making the cups and goblets on the tables tremble and rattle.

"Today, not a single member of the Xie Household will be left alive!"

"Kill!"

A cold shout exploded through the banquet hall!

More than a dozen black-clad assassins sprang up at once, darting out like ghosts. Their black blades gleamed with pale, chilling light as they carried bone-piercing killing intent and charged at the Xie Household from several directions.

The Xie Household guards and disciples changed expression sharply. In their haste, they drew their swords to meet the attack, forming a ragged defensive formation.

In an instant, the clash of metal rang through the entire Xie Residence. Blades and swords struck with ear-piercing clangs, while fierce sword qi crisscrossed and raged, utterly tearing apart the festive music and celebration filling the hall.

Tables overturned, red silk scattered, and colorful decorations drifted down. The grand birthday banquet hall, so prosperous and joyous just moments ago, transformed in the blink of an eye into a bloody and brutal battlefield.

The Xie Household disciples had trained in their family swordsmanship since childhood. Their techniques were exquisite, balanced in offense and defense, but the gap in cultivation was simply too vast.

The black-clad assassins facing them were all high-ranking Upper Third Grade martial artists. Rich in actual combat experience and vicious in their attacks, every strike aimed to take a life.

In only a few exchanges, Xie Household disciples were wounded one after another and forced back step by step. Miserable screams echoed through the hall as their formation rapidly collapsed.

At the critical moment, Xie Xuanyuan resolutely stepped forward. Sword in hand, he guarded Xie Huaijin's side, unleashing his Acquired Grade One cultivation in full force and single-handedly meeting the attacks of three black-clad assassins.

Sword light rose and fell in every direction, his techniques steady and seasoned.

The slaughter in the hall grew ever more brutal, and the battle was driven into complete escalation.

After a long, grueling fight, Xie Xuanyuan's internal energy drained away at terrifying speed. His breath became disordered, his face turned pale, and he was gradually unable to hold on.

More and more Xie Household disciples were killed or wounded, and their defensive line collapsed completely.

Wu Hen looked down coldly upon the battle. Seeing that the time had come, the killing intent in his eyes blazed sky-high.

His figure flashed, transforming into a black afterimage. With his Acquired Grade One cultivation fully unleashed, he shot forward with a chilling saber in hand, arriving before Xie Xuanyuan in an instant.

The blade tore through the air, fierce and deadly, carrying endless hatred as it crashed down.

"Old bastard, take my blade!"

"Hatred Sea One-Blade Slash!"

Wu Hen roared harshly as he slashed down with all his strength. Boundless internal energy gathered upon that single blade, determined to cut Xie Xuanyuan down where he stood!

Xie Xuanyuan's internal energy was exhausted. Faced with this killing strike, he no longer had the strength to resist. The cold gleam of the blade rapidly enlarged in his pupils, and his eyes were filled with desolation and despair.

The guests throughout the hall held their breath in alarm. No one had time to intervene, and they could only watch helplessly as the Xie Household's old master was about to die on the spot.

In that life-and-death instant, with a thousand jun hanging by a single thread, a lean figure silently appeared before Xie Xuanyuan.

Xie Jinghan had stepped forward.

"Those who offend my Xie Household shall die!"

His tone was ice-cold, carrying an unquestionable will and endless killing intent.

In an instant, Xie Jinghan's Acquired Grade One martial cultivation bloomed in full. Sharp sword intent covered his entire body. His long fingers gripped the sword at his waist, and with a strange gesture, he swiftly drew it.

The Sword-Drawing Technique—a single sword tearing through the air, a heaven-shaking killing strike!

"Screeeech~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The sound of a long sword leaving its sheath.

Everyone present felt their vision suddenly brighten as an incomparably brilliant streak of sword light erupted across the entire hall. It was so dazzling and blinding that everyone seemed to go blind, seeing nothing but a vast expanse of white before their eyes.

In that instant of blindness.

"Screeeech~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"

The sound of a long sword returning to its sheath.

Then, everyone's sight returned.

Yet the instant their vision cleared, they saw Xie Jinghan already standing where he was, his sword sheathed. Before him, a thin line of blood slowly emerged across Wu Hen's throat.

Wu Hen's burly body froze in place. The long saber in his hand fell to the ground with a clang, while the brutality, hatred, and unwillingness in his eyes all solidified.

Then he fell, dead.

A single sword sealed his throat!

When the crowd saw Wu Hen dead and looked again at Xie Jinghan, every face was filled with shock, their minds shaken to the core.

Xie Jinghan stood in the center of the battlefield. His brocade robes remained unstained by even a drop of blood, his posture straight and tall. Holding the sword returned to its sheath, his indifferent gaze swept across the hall.

The slaughter throughout the hall abruptly ceased. The battlefield, bloody and brutal only moments before, fell into instant, deathly silence.

The remaining black-clad assassins all froze. Weapons clutched in hand, their entire bodies trembled, their eyes filled with terror. Not a shred of fighting spirit remained.

In their panic, they roared together, "Retreat! Retreat! Run! Hurry!"

The assassins scattered in every direction, fleeing in utter disarray, wishing they could grow two more legs.

Xie Jinghan was too strong—Xie Jinghan!

He could not be fought against.