Grit

Corpses lay in rows in the front courtyard of Hidden Dragon Temple.

After baking in the sun, the corpses gave off a thick, bloody stench, with swarms of flies and mosquitoes buzzing over them.

Zhang Yunfeng, a company commander of the Ironclad Guard, held his breath as he examined the wounds on the corpses very carefully.

His gaze finally settled on the severed head. The man had died with his eyes still open, their whites blood-red.

The crucial thing was the smooth cut. The sword stroke that had taken his head had been truly swift and vicious!

Zhang Yunfeng turned to Daoist Yizhen. "The Daoists of the lower court are truly capable. You wiped out more than fifty rebel soldiers-a great achievement!"

Daoist Yizhen was in his forties, wearing a copper star crown. He had regular features and bright, piercing eyes, and wore a deep yellow Daoist robe patterned with stars, with a horsetail whisk in his hand and a longsword at his waist.

As a hall master of the Cloud Dragon Lower Court, Yizhen was not only a sixth-rank refining master; his swordsmanship and martial arts had also reached the seventh rank. He could rightly be called the Cloud Dragon Lower Court's foremost expert in actual combat.

Yizhen had come to Hidden Dragon Temple this time to back up his disciple Wuzheng.

Hearing Zhang Yunfeng's words, Yizhen said calmly, "The temple is a sacred site dedicated to the Northern Emperor. It naturally enjoys his protection, and no evil can invade it.

"For villains like these to attack the temple was to seek their own deaths."

Yizhen was actually quite surprised that Wuzheng and the others had killed so many rebel soldiers, but before an Ironclad Guard company commander, he could not diminish the Northern Pole Sect's prestige.

Zhang Yunfeng