By the inner district gate—now flung wide open—two sides clashed in brutal combat. But the tide flowed heavily in favor of the invaders.
The Blood Blade Sect’s district wardens were fierce, yet still no match for the elite eighth rankers flooding through.
The coalition of the Sun Family and Wei remnants had gone all-in, stabbing straight into the sect’s heart.
Moments before, the wardens had tried to slam the gate shut upon spotting the onrushing straw-cloaked figures. However, Gongshu Yang’s sudden assault disrupted them. In a matter of seconds, the attackers surged in, and a melee broke out.
Normal disciples, realizing they were outmatched, would have fled. But these wardens felt no fear or pain; they fought to the death, heedless of their own lives.
One of the Sun Family fighters—a tall, wild-eyed man named Sun Shufeng—cackled gleefully as he cut through warden after warden, soaking his clothes in their blood.
“This is fantastic! These must be the sect’s special hired cannon fodder, right? They refuse to run! Ha, they won’t flee at all!”
Nearby, a broad-shouldered, middle-aged swordsman nonchalantly batted aside a few more wardens, scanning for danger with sharp, measured eyes.
“Shufeng, these are fear-proof soldiers created through secret arts. They’ve no fear of death—but they’ve got no way to grow stronger, either.
“Don’t waste time. Tie Sha won’t be that easy to kill. Once he returns, we’ll face real resistance.
“And the inner disciples who were lured away will also come back eventually. Then the true battle begins. For now, finish this quickly.”
This was Sun Jiangang, head of the Sun Family. His caution served as a reminder to the entire group, including their Wei Family allies.
Spurred by his words, the attackers ramped up their offensive.
Under normal circumstances, the correct strategy for the Blood Blade Sect would have been to seal themselves behind the fortified gate.
Once the gate fell, the next line of defense would be activating the sect’s puppets. But with Elder Liu dead, no one had triggered them. The result was a lopsided slaughter.
In short order, hundreds of wardens were reduced to just a scattered few. Some of the invaders rushed to shut the gate behind them, hoping to trap any remaining defenders inside like fish in a barrel and secure total control of the inner district.
By the time Li Yuan arrived, the scene was utter chaos. The main gate was sealed from inside, and the inner square was littered with corpses. Straw-cloaked intruders filled the inner district, ready and waiting.
His sudden appearance immediately drew the attention of every Sun and Wei Family combatant.
At first glance, Sun Shufeng almost asked if Li Yuan was an ally. After all, he also wore a straw cloak and conical hat. But the sight of the demon dogs flanking him like monstrous bodyguards killed that thought in an instant.
Nobody in the Sun Family could possibly control seventh rank demonic beasts, much less walk alongside a pack of them.
Off to the side, the head of the Sun Family, Sun Jiangang, threw a wary glance at Gongshu Yang.
In a grave tone, Sun Jiangang asked, “Wei Yang, who is he?”
Gongshu Yang—or rather, Wei Yang’s expression was equally grim. “I heard the Blood Blade Sect appointed a new beastmaster, but they said he was just some young eighth rank disciple. That hardly explains how he can manage so many demon dogs.”
Their low conversation clearly reached Li Yuan’s ears. The moment he spotted Wei Yang, all the pieces fell into place—
The Wei Family had staged a show of surrender, using their Third Miss and the hidden sleepers in Silver Creek to win the Blood Blade Sect’s trust.
After lying low, they baited the sect’s disciples with rumors of the underground market, successfully luring Tie Sha out of the inner district.
Wei Yang then snuck in with his men. With inside help, they killed Elders Liu and Tian, seized control of the demon enclosure and puppet pavilion, and launched a coordinated assault.
Now, with the inner district gate overrun and two of the sect’s top elders dead, there was little room for negotiation.
Wei Yang’s suspicious stare told Li Yuan that his identity had been exposed—or at least heavily guessed at.
Li Yuan’s gaze swept the crowd of enemies. The strongest appeared to be Sun Jiangang, who had a combat power of 225~230, ranking just a little below Tie Sha.
Why push me this far? The question felt pointless now.
The inner district was falling, and Li Yuan had no intention of letting himself be unmasked. So, he stepped forward, drawing the Horse Butcher from behind his back.
The moment the blade caught the rainlight, Wei Yang’s eyes went wide. “You’re Li Yuan? No...you can’t be. Who are—?”
Li Yuan said nothing. He simply bolted forward, boots drumming on the slick ground like a furious battle cadence. In that same heartbeat, the demon dogs picked up on his command and charged in a frenzy—snarling, tearing into any foe in front of them.
“Kill him!” Wei Yang shouted, meeting Sun Jiangang’s stare. Their powerful auras flared, whipping the rain into a seething vortex.
“He must be the sect’s final trump card,” Wei Yang muttered.
Sun Jiangang bared his teeth. “Then we deal with him together.”
Sword energy howled, swirling mud and rain. One brandished a longsword, the other unleashed a volley of short blades—both aimed straight at the young man bearing down on them.
Li Yuan’s right hand tightened on the Horse Butcher’s hilt, as though touching a lover’s skin. In that instant, everything in his mind crystallized. The three forms of the Spring-Autumn Blade blended into a single stroke.
A sharp, piercing hum echoed through the downpour, quickly followed by the shrieks of twisted metal and then immediately flesh.
Steel rasped against steel, but also against blood, which quivered under the blade’s vibrations. The entire sky seemed to tremble with it, the rain dancing up and down in eerie convulsions.
Li Yuan inhaled sharply, drawing the blade three inches from its scabbard. Light flared, and the force he unleashed blew the scabbard behind him, shattering it to pieces.
Wei Yang and Sun Jiangang both went pale. They channeled their breath and blood to their limits, forming a hazy, red-tinged mist around them.
A thunderous clash rang out, an unearthly scream of steel.
At that moment, Li Yuan was already past them, blade slashing in a blur. When he came to a halt, Wei Yang and the fierce Sun family head both collapsed in two halves, sword and man sliced cleanly apart.
Blood sprayed across the blade of the Horse Butcher, sizzling in its vibrating aura until it turned to red mist.
Li Yuan spun, his black hair whipping, his figure like a possessed demon. The blade whistled in savage arcs, leaving afterimages streaking through the gloom.
Within the span of a few breaths, everyone in front the inner district’s gate—Sun or Wei, even the Blood Blade Sect’s own district wardens—fell to the same devastating stroke.
Any who tried to run were taken down by the dogs, or had their throats crushed between those vicious jaws.
At last, a hush descended. The streets were strewn with mangled corpses and severed limbs; blood flowed with the rain, dyeing the ground a dark crimson.
In the center of that grisly tableau stood a lone figure, long blade in hand, its edge awash in blood.