Yi Chen gave a cold, disdainful smile. "You think you can lay a hand on me?"
The young man roared, "Attack!" His followers drew their weapons and charged at Yi Chen.
Yi Chen snorted coldly and raised his sword to meet them. He moved swiftly, remaining effortlessly in control despite being surrounded by enemies. His swordsmanship was nothing short of miraculous, dazzling and impossible to read.
Yi Chen darted aside, dodging a blade's gleam from a sneak attack. With a flick of his wrist, his sword swept across another black-clad man's throat.
The black-clad man collapsed with a muffled groan, blood spurting from his neck.
"Kill!"
At the sight, the others lunged at him even more fiercely.
Yi Chen's swordsmanship had reached the perfection of a flame burning pure green. He cut down the enemies charging at him, severing them at the waist. Blood sprayed everywhere in a scene of sheer horror.
As Yi Chen fought the group, he gradually seized the initiative. His clashes with the enemy had already left several more wounds on his body.
The men he had stabbed had all been struck in the throat, a fatal point. Blood gushed from their wounds, and their eyes remained wide open, unable to close even in death.
Yi Chen had no idea how many people he had killed. His hands were already drenched in blood, and he felt his awareness slipping away. He knew he could not hold out much longer. He had to seize even the faintest hope of survival, or nothing but death awaited him. There was no other choice.
Mustering his remaining strength, Yi Chen drove his sword through a man's throat and severed his life.
"Kill!"
Yi Chen threw back his head and let out a long roar, then swung his sword again, cutting