At a high building a mile away from that courtyard.
Li Laotian and Gongsun Jing stood shoulder to shoulder. Gongsun Jing's face showed a hint of anxiety, yet he still managed to restrain himself. Li Laotian, on the other hand, was quite calm, tut-tutting in amazement. He glanced at Gongsun Jing, curled his lips, and said,
"Stop pacing. Stay calm. Your Young Master will be fine."
"Even if there were trouble, a hundred cavalry have already surrounded the place. In three breaths' time, they could engage as a surprise force, ensuring nothing goes wrong."
Gongsun Jing slightly furrowed his brow and sighed, yet he did not make a move.
As a Martial Artist born from the Military Family of Great Qin, he naturally knew the effect of a "surprise force" concept. However, the matter was complex, and thus his mind was slightly disturbed, rarely unsettled.
"You close your eyes and gather your energy. Leave this to me. I'll tell you when you can move."
His eyes narrowed toward the young man a distance away, slight confusion in his heart.
It feels as if I've seen it somewhere.
Why does my back suddenly feel cold?
A sharp ringing sound broke the silence.
A broken part of a sword spun into the sky, the cold light fierce, then plunged into the ground continuing to echo sharply. The previous bearer of three longswords, a Middle Third Rank expert, turned pale and coughed up blood.
On his left hand, the light and sharp fast sword had broken in the middle.
Tan Yurou stood under the cold plum tree, her expression serene.
Xiong Ying was less than ten steps away.
Wang Anfeng slightly frowned, let go of Tan Yurou's palm, and said gravely,
"Stay here, do not wander off."
His right hand grasping the sword, he walked towards Xiong Ying and Zhao Zhengyong. Seeing Wang Anfeng emerge, Xiong Ying slightly straightened up, his expression stern, his right hand holding the heavy blade and pointing straight at Wang Anfeng. Though he said nothing, his heroic aura did not diminish in the slightest.
A hint of hesitation appeared on Zhao Zhengyong's face.
For some reason, looking at the young man in front of him, he always felt a bit uneasy inside.
When golden Buddhist scriptures began to appear on Wang Anfeng's body, the old man's pupils sharply contracted, as if he had been struck on the back of the head, his mind went blank. He suddenly thought back to several days ago, the night attack on Zhao's residence, the assassin with strong External Cultivation and paled, blurting out,
Wang Anfeng did not reply; his right hand gripping the sheathed longsword, he faced two opponents with superior Internal Strength Martial Bodies without any intention of holding back. Silently executing the Ten Powers of Tathagata Dharma, his Golden Bell Shield Inner Strength was also pushed to its current peak.
Xiong Ying, noticing the change in Wang Anfeng's aura, his eyes lit up, and he praised,
He already had numerous wounds on his body, his vigorous attire soaked with blood, yet his spirit did not weaken in the slightest. Instead, as the battle heated, it grew even more intense. His right hand lifted the blade, and despite the disadvantageous situation, he struck first.
The heavy blade cleaved through the void, enveloping the wind and snow, splitting into numerous blade shadows encompassing Wang Anfeng and the Sixth Rank Martial Artist with twin swords, in the attack. Just then, Zhao Zhengyong bellowed angrily, raising his right hand and forcefully smashing it backward.
A wave of Qi force erupted.
A strike with full strength from a Sixth Rank expert, even a Seventh Rank Martial Artist could not stabilize their stance; one by one, their steps faltered. What was originally a tight formation like a Heavenly Net and Earthly Trap, was forcibly broken through, creating a wide path. Then, like a tiger descending the mountain, he fled towards the outside of the courtyard.
In this critical moment, disregarding his own reputation, he fled from battle out of fear.
Wang Anfeng and the other Martial Artist felt a sharp decrease in pressure. They glanced at each other and simultaneously stepped left and right landing a diagonal slash with their swords in the face of the oncoming blade.
Sword and blade collided.
On one side, a Seventh Rank Martial Artist bearing immense strength with a Divine Weapon, and a Sixth Rank expert practiced in swordsmanship. On the other, a Gang Leader who was at the end of his tether.
On the blade and sword, immense forces continuously impacted.
Underneath their feet, the snow dispersed in an instant. Moments later, since initiating the blade raise, Xiong Ying who had never retreated a step paled, unable to resist, staggered back half a step. The invincible and victorious momentum on his body immediately dispersed.
Wang Anfeng's eyes brightened.
His wrist shook, and the sheathed longsword, like a rarely seen Divine Weapon, burst out bright and sharp Sword Light, piercing at an impossible angle sharply into Xiong Ying's waist. Xiong Ying paled, his aura scattered, coughing out a mouthful of fresh blood.
Yet even in such a dire situation, his spirit did not lessen in the slightest. With his right hand holding the blade, he forced back the swordsman who pressed forward, the sharp blade edge carrying a will to die, shattered the Martial Artist's twin swords completely, Qi force surged, the gaunt man could not withstand it and staggered back several steps, ultimately unable to resist kneeling on the ground.
Pale faced, coughing out large mouthfuls of blood, he looked up at the man standing tall and uttered through gritted teeth a single word.
Meanwhile, Xiong Ying's left hand had fiercely lifted, grasping the sword scabbard above Wang Anfeng's longsword, a tremendous force instantly traveling down the scabbard, causing Wang Anfeng's expression to change, suddenly unable to advance a step.
Even with the scabbard as a barrier, to stop a Divine Weapon's edge with a mere fleshly body.
And the swordsman, even more so, was the first Sword Master to awaken the Spirit Rhythm of the Divine Weapon.
From Xiong Ying's palm, crimson fresh blood flowed, dripping down the dark scabbard onto the ground, yet he seemed not to notice any pain, looking up at Wang Anfeng, he asked:
"Why, did you not strike at my wounded spot?"
Wang Anfeng's palm gripped the sword, Thunder intertwining around his body, also refusing to give up a single step, and said: