On the official road of Lai’an Prefecture, Lin Yan rode alone, a sword at his waist.
His mount was a superior Hequ Horse, its coat a deep crimson, its mane glossy, and its legs long and slender. When it ran, its hooves beat like drums—swift and steady.
His clothes were tailored from high-quality fabric, an indigo brocade. The cuffs were embroidered with a subtle pattern—understated, but anyone with a discerning eye could tell they were expensive.
After bidding farewell to He Qiaosheng and his disciple at the Lai’an Prefecture docks, he had selected this horse from a stable. The deposit was two hundred taels; upon reaching the stable’s branch at the border of Lai’an Prefecture and Deng State, he could get one hundred seventy taels back with his rental receipt.
The prefectures of Shandong Dao were strictly demarcated; even horse rentals couldn’t cross borders.
As he rode east, the number of pedestrians on both sides of the official road gradually increased. People pushing carts, carrying loads on shoulder poles, and herding donkeys—all walks of life streamed by in an endless flow.
Lin Yan’s attire attracted a great deal of attention on the road, but most people only gave him a passing glance before looking away. He encountered no trouble along the way.
Neither bandits nor robbers were fools. A young man like Lin Yan, riding alone, was surely a confident scion of a prominent family. He was not to be trifled with, as the consequences would be endless.
As he traveled through a mountain pass, the sound of clashing metal came from the woods to his left.
Lin Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. He tapped the reins, urging his horse to speed up. He wasn’t one to get involved in trouble. Feuds and gang wars—it was best to just stay away.
"Senior Sister, you go first! I’ll hold him off!"
But the next moment, a voice called out, startling Lin Yan. He immediately pulled on the reins, his gaze shifting toward the woods to his left.
Behind a slope past the dense forest was a clearing.
There, three figures were locked in a chaotic battle: a young man and a young woman fighting against a middle-aged man in gray.
The young man wielded a long spear, his thrusts like a striking dragon. Infused with Blood Gang, the spearhead tore through the air with a sharp whistle.
The gray-robed man snorted coldly, flipped his saber, and slashed down.
Saber and spear clashed with a deafening ring of metal. The difference in their strength was immediately apparent.
The young man was thrown back several steps, his back slamming hard against a pine tree. His left shoulder was grazed by the Saber Gang, tearing a gash in his robe. Blood stained half his sleeve red, but his grip on the spear remained as steady as a rock.
"Junior Brother Zhao!"
"Senior Sister, go!"
"No! If anyone is leaving, it should be you, Junior Brother Zhao."
But Zhou Wei’s eyes were exceptionally determined. This whole affair was her fault, and she couldn’t drag down Junior Brother Zhao.
Zhou Wei raised her sword and thrust at the gray-robed man. Her Swordsmanship was exquisite and her angle of attack cunning, but the gap between a Blood Exchange Second Transformation and a Blood Exchange Fourth Transformation was just too vast. The gray-robed man didn’t even bother to block. He simply sidestepped and slapped the flat of her blade with a backhand strike. Her Longsword flew from her grasp, and Zhou Wei was caught by the Palm Wind, stumbling and falling to the ground.
"Senior Sister!" Zhao Linyuan’s eyes widened in fury. Ignoring the searing pain from the torn web of his hand, he tightened his grip on his long spear and stood protectively in front of Zhou Wei.
"Such a touching display of camaraderie," the middle-aged man in gray sneered. "A pity. Neither of you is leaving today."
The gray-robed man approached, saber in hand. His steps were unhurried as he dragged the tip of his blade along the ground, carving a deep groove in the dirt. He was clearly toying with the two of them.
"In your next life, remember this: don’t meddle in other people’s business!"
The gray-robed man raised his saber. The Saber Gang flared like a bolt of white silk as he brought it down on Zhao Linyuan’s head.
Zhao Linyuan gritted his teeth and raised his spear to block. ’He knew he couldn’t stop it, but his Senior Sister was behind him. He could not dodge this strike.’
Just as the saber was about to fall...
WHOOSH!
A flash of sword light shot out from the woods.
It was completely silent.
As fast as lightning.
The instant the sword light appeared, a chill ran down the gray-robed man’s spine.
The Perception of a Blood Exchange Fourth Transformation expert was incredibly sharp. He acted on pure instinct, abandoning his attack on Zhao Linyuan. Wrenching his saber’s trajectory mid-air, he simultaneously erupted with Blood Gang, condensing it into a Dark Red shield around his body.
But the sword light was too fast.
So fast that while he managed to deflect his saber, he couldn’t evade completely. The sword light grazed past his blade and precisely pierced his right arm.
PFFT!
His Blood Gang was torn apart like thin paper. The Sword Gang pierced straight through the gray-robed man’s arm, leaving a bloody hole.
Fresh blood gushed from the wound. The gray-robed man let out a muffled grunt and staggered back several steps. He looked down at his injury, his eyes filled with disbelief.
’My Blood Gang, at the Blood Exchange Fourth Transformation, couldn’t even block that single sword strike?’
He snapped his head up, trying to get a clear look at his attacker.
However, his opponent gave him no such chance. The attacker’s figure became an ethereal wisp of smoke, one moment on the left, the next on the right. Flashes of sword light followed, one after another, relentless and unending.
On the first strike, the gray-robed man barely managed to parry, and sparks flew as their weapons met.
The web of his hand went numb from the impact. More importantly, he discovered that a strange Power within the wound on his arm was tearing apart his Blood Gang.
"Sword Intent... And multiple strands of it!"
A flicker of panic appeared in the gray-robed man’s eyes. ’Even at the Blood Exchange Fourth Transformation, I can’t suppress the destructive force of this Sword Gang! This means his opponent’s Sword Gang is infused with at least four different Sword Intents!’
’Flee!’
With the thought of retreat flashing through his mind, the gray-robed man prepared to run. But the second sword strike had already arrived.
The second strike, the third, the fourth!
The moment the fifth strike was unleashed, the wound on the gray-robed man’s arm finally exploded, sending flesh and blood flying.
The explosion of his arm caused the gray-robed man to falter. In that split second of hesitation, all he could see was a silvery-white sword light growing larger and larger in his eyes, and then...
He felt a cold sensation on his throat, and then blood sprayed from the wound.
The gray-robed man’s eyes were filled with anger and regret. ’I shouldn’t have underestimated him from the start! If I hadn’t been so careless and had gone all-out against that first strike, my arm wouldn’t have been injured. I might have been able to block his other attacks instead of being worn down until I lost my life.’

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