"Where is the Sun family patriarch?" Lin Feng demanded, voice cold as steel.
"I don't know!" the grimy soldier stammered.
"You're useless."
"Die!"
Bang.
The soldier's attack was cut short. A blade of azure light sliced through the air.
"Who are you?" another man cried.
"The one who's going to send you to your grave," Lin Feng replied, voice flat.
A short, incredulous laugh. "My grave? Hah."
Lin Feng didn't answer. He moved like lightning.
He lunged forward — azure sword-light tearing the dusk — as his cultivator technique sang in his throat: Kill All Under Heaven.
A crimson arc exploded through the encampment.
Bang. Bang.
A head rolled and thudded onto the dirt.
"I told you I'd send you to your grave," Lin Feng said quietly, watching the blood stain the ground.
"Senior Brother Lin Feng! You saved my life — I owe you everything!" a survivor cried, crawling from the wreckage.
"Fatty, gather the battalion," Lin Feng ordered. "We move now."
---
"Captain, we've reached the invaders' camp," a scout reported breathless, having led them through shattered palisades and smoke. The night air smelled of iron and burned wood.
"Good. Leave this to me. Sun Yang — let me bring back your daughter," Lin Feng said.
"But—" Sun Yang began, but Lin Feng had already vanished.
Inside the folds of his private world he drew Zhao Yun out — the bound and humiliated young master of the Blood Sect — and pushed a probing thread of divine sense through the enemy lines.
"How many Legend-grade experts are in the camp?" he asked.
"Two seventh-grade Legend-realm experts, one eighth-grade Legend-realm expert, and four fifth-grade Legend-realm experts. The rest are Heaven-realm and below," Zhao Yun replied, voice tight.
"We'll crack the formation and then strike with a surprise attack," Lin Feng said. "Clear?"
"Yes… captain." Zhao Yun's tone was half doubt, half awe. Even bound, he registered Lin Feng's danger.
"You can't break that formation," Zhao Yun warned. "It's the Dragon-Slaying Formation. It takes at least a Ninth-grade Legend-realm powerhouse to tear it open."
Lin Feng only laughed, a small, confident sound. Then he moved.
In the blink of an eye an explosion ripped the night.
The Dragon-Slaying Formation — a lattice of spiritual runes that had been containing their forces — fractured and splintered like brittle jade. Stone dust and spiritual residue rained down.
"Who dares attack us?" an alarmed commander roared. "Kill them!"
"Captain has broken the formation!" someone shouted.
A roar rose across the camp — orders, fury, and fear tangled together. Zhao Yun's bound frame jolted; he had not expected the formation to collapse so easily.
Maybe I should serve him in the future, Zhao Yun thought, teeth clenched. If only he weren't my enemy…
A cluster of fifth-grade Legend-realm experts charged. Lin Feng's sword flashed.
Azure sword art — Kill All Under Heaven.
A brilliant blade of light cleaved through them. Two heads rolled, then two more. Blood sprayed in arcs; Lin Feng moved with clinical efficiency. He felt raw power flood him as he devoured their blood essences — the taste of potency fueling his body like wildfire.
"This is incredible," he breathed, feeling his cultivation tighten and leap.
The remaining fifth-grade experts turned and fled, terror breaking their discipline.
"Where do you think you're going?" Lin Feng called after them. A single sweep of his sword and two more heads rolled; their blood essences were claimed as trophies.
"Go summon your leader. I want a real fight," Lin Feng said, voice like a blade.
---
In an underground vault, torches guttering against carved stone, a small girl screamed as a shadowy figure leaned over her.
"Stop resisting, little one. Let me take it," a low voice hissed; the girl's shriek cut off in terror.
"Leader — there's a massive problem!" someone burst into the chamber.
"What is it?" a cold authority demanded.
"The enemy has attacked our camp. They've nearly slaughtered everyone."
"And the Zhao brothers?" the leader asked.
"They've been killed… by a very young man."
"What is his cultivation?" the leader demanded.
"He's only a half-step Legend-grade expert."
"What? Move! We go at once."
---
Lin Feng's divine sense swept the camp again. "I don't detect the two seventh-grade Legend-realm experts nearby," he murmured. Something in the air felt wrong, like the calm before a greater storm.
He stalked through tents and collapsed pavilions until he found one trembling prisoner. "You," he said, grabbing the man by the hair. "Do you know where she's held?"
The man stared, white with fear. "Who— who are you talking about?"
"You're useless," Lin Feng snapped.
He tightened his grip. A pulse of force detonated from his palm. The man's head exploded outward in a spray of gore and bone.
Lin Feng didn't flinch. "The blood essence of a Heaven-realm expert is worthless," he said, wiping his blade clean with a practiced motion.
A ripple in the shadows announced a new presence. An old man stepped forward, robe flowing like midnight.
"So you came for the little girl," the old man observed, voice amused and cold.
Zhao Yun, watching from the edge of Lin Feng's little world, whispered, "I can't believe they brought Old Man Zhao Han. He'll kill everyone here. A talent like him— he won't survive this camp."
Lin Feng straightened. The old man's aura was enormous — an eighth-grade Legend-realm expert, and the leader of this detestable place.
"Who are you?" Lin Feng demanded.
"The leader of this camp," the old man replied. He measured Lin Feng casually.
"I see. Where's the girl?"
"In a very secure place," the old man taunted.
Lin Feng cocked an eyebrow. "Bring her out, or I'll make you regret ever setting foot on this soil."
The old man laughed. "Kid, what powerhouse do you think you are from?"
"I am Lin Feng of the Sword Sovereign Sect."
The old man's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, recognition dawning. "Lin Feng? Golden hair… so it's you."
"You recognize me?"
"You're on our blacklist. Your head is worth a small fortune."
"Blacklist, huh?" Lin Feng smiled coldly. "We can bargain."
Zhao Yun — humiliated, but still proud — watched as Lin Feng produced him from the little world.
"I'll exchange him for the girl," Lin Feng said. "You give me the girl, I return your young master."
"How dare you!" the old man snarled.
"What makes you think I'll accept? He's nothing but an illegitimate son of their sect master." The old man spat the insult like a knife.
Lin Feng's jaw tightened. He had already guessed Zhao Yun's high value in the Blood Sect, and hoped to use him as leverage to free Sun Mei.
Zhao Yun's face flamed. "How dare you call me that!" he roared.
"Your cultivation is crippled and your sect master is absent. I can say it again."
"Enough!" Zhao Yun barked, chest heaving. Lin Feng released him; the young master vanished back into his private world like a breath.
"Old man, let's fight," Lin Feng said. He launched himself forward, sword light tearing the night into ribbons.