Former Friend, Friend Unto Death!

Unexpected events can occur, and things are beyond our control.

The scholar had already sighed inwardly, preparing to hand over all his belongings—the basket on his back, along with the bundle at his waist containing a few tattered books and some dry rations, which, in the eyes of the bandits, seemed utterly pathetic—in hopes of saving his life.

But unexpectedly, the change came very quickly.

Just as he was forced to obey the words of these highway robbers and obediently untie the old bamboo basket soaked in tung oil from his back—

Before they knew it, several figures followed the same path the bandits had taken, flashing out of the dense forest beside the road like ghosts. Their movements were extremely clean and swift, and before they could even utter a few shouts, all they could see were streaks of light flashing like bolts of lightning!

These were clearly skilled fighters; their movements were nothing like the more bluffing swipes of the previous bandits. Instead, their blades and spears were deadly, executed in one fluid motion, directly targeting the center of gravity.

The dumbfounded scholar heard only a few short, muffled thuds, some like the sound of a farmer cutting yellow seedlings with a knife, or the sound of a blunt object striking a sack full of grain.

Immediately afterwards, the few bandits who had been so fierce just moments before collapsed without a sound, becoming the source of the gradually expanding dark red, damp patches on the ground.

The two or three men who had previously dealt with the robber, along with the others who had followed him out of the woods timidly after the matter was settled, totaled six or seven strangers dressed differently.

There were ordinary-looking men dressed in gray short-sleeved shirts, two Daoist priests wearing dark yellow striped caps and square crowns, and Hunter carrying a broken bow and several feathered arrows on their backs.

There was even a square-shaped but exceptionally capable man, carrying a broad-bladed sword sheath on his back, with a water-bag dagger hanging at his waist, and a towering, dark-skinned "Kunlun Slave" standing behind him, yet he himself was a blue-eyed, white-skinned "wandering knight."

-- This group of oddballs is really hard to understand how they got together.

They watched as the group of people dressed as Daoist priests and wandering knights bent down and sighed deeply, as if they couldn't bear to see the bandits on the ground, already stabbed and groaning in pain, continue to suffer.

After hesitating for a moment, someone whispered a few words to their companion, as if they were arguing. One of them remained silent for a long time, then simply and swiftly slashed a few more times, sending them on their way to their deaths.

This brought an end to this painful entanglement.

However, just as this "job" was finished, unlike the skillful precision he displayed when wielding the knife, the Daoist-dressed man who made the last move, for some reason, gradually lost the color from his face, revealing a somewhat unpredictable expression.

He staggered back a few steps, then slammed one hand on the tree, his fingers turning white from the excessive force.

A few breaths later, his throat bobbed violently, and finally he could not hold back any longer. He bent over and vomited out all the churning, sour stuff in his stomach with a loud "wah".

"Bear with it, Lao Yu, cheer up, don't embarrass yourself!"

"You feel much better now that you've vomited. It's the first time you see blood, so most people will have this reaction. Once you get through this, things will be much easier."

"When you exchanged for Basic Swordsmanship, shouldn't you have foreseen this day?"

He casually picked up a handful of fallen leaves from the ground and carefully wiped the bloodstains off his sword. A Daoist priest of similar age then came over, patted him on the back, and offered a few words of comfort.

The Daoist priest who bent down ignored him, and just vomited violently until he was completely recovered after a while.

He took out the water bag, drank two mouthfuls of water, and his complexion improved considerably.

"----Damn, this is disgusting---- This feeling, this smell---- It's so real----"

"This is much more exciting than watching people slaughter pigs for the New Year!"

The person next to him frowned upon seeing this.

"According to what's said on the forum, this is probably just a dream woven by that ball above; don't take it too seriously."

"But look at the way those guys on the ground looked at us earlier—was this really just a dream?"

For some reason, after exchanging a few words in hushed tones, the two of them suddenly fell silent.

Seeing that none of the others made any move, the Kunlun Slave walked over with a grin, spoke a few words of "outsider dialect" that the scholar couldn't understand in a very strange accent, and squatted down to start groping the corpses.

Although his skills seemed somewhat rusty, and he appeared quite clumsy when rummaging through the money pouch, he was surprisingly efficient when forcefully tearing off the only valuable accessory.

The "looting" was over quickly.

As the foreign white-bearded man, who looked like a wandering knight, waved his hand dismissively, the Kunlun Slave cheerfully stuffed the loose silver and copper coins he had found into his pocket, the gazes of the others swept over as well.

The scholar jolted awake, took a deep breath, but the increasingly strong smell of blood in the air almost made him cough.

He took a few quick breaths, released the locust tree, stumbled two steps, clasped his hands in a deep bow, and said in a trembling voice, "I—I am Pingshan Ning Family, and I thank you all—you brave warriors for saving my life! I am deeply grateful!"

"I do not know the esteemed names of you valiant men—in the future—if there is an opportunity, I will surely erect a longevity tablet for you all and pray for your well-being daily!"

The people not far away were watching him, but none of them rushed to answer. Instead, it was the Kunlun Slave who curiously asked a question first.

"A wooden plaque with a special blessing for longevity—what does it say?"

"It's like a priest singing hymns to you in church, not much different."

The young Hunter carrying the wooden bow casually replied, and then picked up a few leaves to wipe the old bamboo basket on the ground, which was already stained with blood.

"Wait! That person! That scholar! Stop looking, I'm talking to you!"

He waved to the scholar not far away.

"Come here, these are your things, right? Take them back yourself!"

Although the Hunter seemed rather unapproachable, he turned out to be quite the chatterbox. After rambling on for a few moments, he generously stepped aside, allowing the overjoyed scholar to take the bamboo basket, which was theoretically, in reality, one of everyone's "trophies."

Along with the coarse cloth pouch that vaguely appeared to contain several books, it was also tossed over and returned to its rightful owner.

"Alright, you've got your stuff, now get out of here! Be careful next time, you won't always be lucky enough to run into us—"

The Hunter waved his hand, looking extremely impatient, as if telling him to get lost and stop getting in the way.

The scholar, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, quickly bowed and said, "Yes, yes! Thank you, brave warriors! I—I take my leave!"

Seeing the scattered figures on the ground and the large patches of blood seeping into the soil, he didn't dare linger any longer after just hoisting his old bamboo basket onto his back, and turned to leave.

Unexpectedly, her legs still felt weak, and she almost tripped and fell on her first step.

Just then, the man who had appeared and remained silent, dressed in a gray short-sleeved shirt, suddenly spoke. His voice was not loud, but it made the scholar freeze in place.

"Scholar, wait a moment."

The impoverished scholar's heart stopped beating, and cold sweat instantly soaked through his inner shirt, but he still slowly turned around, his face pale and ashen.

The other person looked him up and down carefully again. "What's your last name?"

"----My benefactor, I am Pingshan Ning Family."

"Ning, that's a good surname. It reminds me of a close friend from the past—boy, what's your name?"

"I am Ning Cai Chen."