The wind and snow remained unchanged.
Tan Fei narrowed his eyes. At some point, the muscles in his cheeks had drawn taut. His gaze slowly swept through the curtain of snow, taking in the two still-warm corpses on the ground, before seeming to follow the crimson streaks on the wall toward the youth slowly approaching him.
The youth was watching him too.
As their eyes met, Lian Youming slowly lifted the motionless Eagle Claw Sect disciple in his hand a little higher, holding him before Tan Fei as though he wanted the man to get a clearer look.
The first two had died cleanly. This one had suffered.
Blood still dripped from the stumps of his arms. The skin and flesh on half his face had been ground away against the wall, exposing bloody bone.
No, he was not dead yet. His lone eye was wide open, his breath barely stirring in his mouth and nose.
Right before Tan Fei, Lian Youming tightened his grip around the man's neck and gently twisted his wrist, ending his life before tossing him onto the ground.
"Whew."
From beginning to end, all of this had taken barely a dozen breaths.
Even Lian Youming could not help letting out a deep breath of stale air. His breath steamed as though boiling, turning into a cloud of white mist in the frozen landscape before the wind scattered it. But this was by no means a breath pent up through discomfort or fear. On the contrary, he felt exhilarated, as though the resentment in his heart had found release. But he had not vented enough yet, because one man was still standing.
"Heh, heh. These disciples of yours must have been too busy thinking about making their ill-gotten money. Their skills were a little rusty... so