Han Yan’s gaze instinctively shifted to the corner of the assassin’s garment, where a pattern composed of a dozen stars caught her eye. Though subtle, it set off a tempest in her mind.
This pattern was somewhat different from the one on the last assassin’s clothing, but the embroidery clearly came from the same hand. If put together, perhaps they would form another constellation.
Han Yan didn’t think twice and attacked almost instinctively. She and Yan Yuchu weren’t friends, but at this moment, they shared a common enemy. Helping him was, in fact, helping herself. On such issues, Han Yan was undoubtedly much more mature than her peers.
"Presumptuous!" The assassin clearly didn’t take Han Yan seriously. He hadn’t expected someone he viewed as an ant, easily crushed underfoot, to dare to strike. With a snort of contempt, he slapped out a palm.
Though it was a slap thrown from the air, there was a world of difference between a Swordsman and a Sword Master; the palm was like dark clouds bearing down, like relentless waves, unstoppable to a mere Seventh-Order Swordsman.
Han Yan, however, was not a Seventh-Order Swordsman; she was a Ninth Rank, and in terms of true combat power, even had the confidence to battle a Tenth Rank Great Swordsman.
But seeing the disdain in the other’s eyes, not even deigning to give her a second glance, a flash of insight struck Han Yan’s mind, and she continued to suppress her strength, striking with only the power of a Seventh-Order Swordsman.
Boom! A muffled sound echoed, and Han Yan staggered, a trickle of blood spilling from her mouth, as she was knocked "unconscious" by the palm.
"Han Yan!" Mu Ziqing cried out in shock and urgency.
Having thought this playboy had finally matured and understood the need to strive, actually cultivating to the strength of a Seventh-Order Swordsman, how could he still be so recklessly self-confident?
After all, your opponent is a Great Sword Master. As a mere Seventh-Order Swordsman, shouldn’t you be seizing the chance to flee for your life, instead of seeking death by taking the initiative to fight? Isn’t that completely irrational?
Having roamed the world for several years, Mu Ziqing’s ability to adapt to changing situations was much stronger than most. Prepared to flee at the first sign of trouble, he stopped in his tracks upon witnessing Han Yan’s foolish action.
No matter how addled his brain, he was still a descendant of the Mu Family, moreover coming to his aid. How could Mu Ziqing leave him behind?
With a clench of his teeth, Mu Ziqing leaped towards Han Yan. Read complete version only at novel[f]ire.net
"Another one seeking death." The assassin scoffed disdainfully and sent another palm strike from the air.
Mu Ziqing grunted as he, too, was shaken to the ground by the palm strike. Though not instantly "knocked out" like Han Yan, the internal injuries he suffered were severe, as evidenced by the fresh blood he spat out.
"My prodigal lord, you really got me this time," Mu Ziqing thought miserably, looking at Han Yan’s fallen figure not far away.
The assassin, clearly very confident in his strength and not surprised by the outcome, didn’t even spare Han Yan and Mu Ziqing a second glance. His gaze, predatory like an eagle, was locked firmly on Yan Yuchu as he thrust his swift sword.
Clang! His sharp blade broke through Yan Yuchu’s Sword Force and pierced his chest, sending a jet of blood spraying out.
The gap was just too wide; despite being Sword Masters of the same rank, the difference was glaring. Han Yan silently reflected. She had once been frustrated about her high requirements for advancement, but seeing the result laid out before her, she felt much more at ease.
Although advancing was harder and slower, when it came to real combat power, she was incomparably stronger than her peers. The higher the strength, the more pronounced this disparity appeared. Had it not been for the unexpected appearance of this assassin, with her prepared mind against his unguarded state, it was not a certainty that she would lose to Yan Yuchu.