The sword light streaked like lightning, crossing the night sky faster than the eye could follow, plunging into the heart of the battle in an instant. Every face twisted with shock!
"Fourth Brother! Watch out!!!"
The brawny leader of the four bandits, at the peak of Foundation Building, reacted first. His pupils constricted violently, a shrill scream tearing from his throat.
The man he called 'Fourth Brother'—the one with narrow eyes who'd leered about tasting a Core Formation female cultivator—was the most frenzied attacker. He'd been savagely hammering the Azure Spring Sect's male disciple, intent on seizing the unconscious woman on his back. His focus cost him dearly; he was the last to react.
"Wha—?!"
He spun at his companion's cry. His face drained of color.
"WHOOSH... THUNK!!"
He barely completed the turn. There was no time to dodge. The sword light pierced his chest like a needle through silk, bursting out his back!
"G-g-gak..."
He froze mid-swing, as if petrified. Confusion flickered in his eyes first, then bottomless terror and despair. His jaw trembled, teeth chattering. His gaze grew vacant. Mechanically, slowly, he looked down at his chest.
A hole the size of an egg gaped where his heart should be. No blood flowed—only wisps of greenish smoke curled from the charred, cauterized flesh around the wound. The stench of seared meat hung thick.
"THUD!!"
He toppled backward, rigid as a board. He hit the ground, eyes wide open, utterly lifeless.
"Fourth Brother! NO!"
"Flying Sword!! It's a Flying Sword!!"
"A Core Formation cultivator! RUN!!"
The dull thud of the corpse snapped the others awake. The three remaining bandits were petrified. Two shrieked in panic. Only the leader kept his wits.
"Don't come near!! AAGH!!"
Another scream ripped through the chaos. The Flying Sword pursued a bandit at the eighth level of Foundation Building. His hastily thrown Golden Shield Talisman and defensive true essence shattered like paper. The blade punched through his throat.
"Spare me, Senior! MERCY!! I'll give you anyth—AAAH!!"
The third bandit, at the ninth level of Foundation Building in purple robes, scrambled backward on hands and knees, voice thick with tears. He saw the sword flash. Resistance was futile. His head tumbled from his shoulders before his plea ended.
Only the peak Foundation Building leader remained. He'd retreated fastest, now a hundred meters away. In the span of a few breaths, he'd watched his brothers slaughtered like lambs. Despair choked him. He chanced a look toward the slope where the sword had originated—and spotted Lin Feng.
"DIE!!"
Madness sparked in his terror-glazed eyes. He yanked out a shimmering golden talisman, channeling every shred of his true essence to hurl its power at the distant figure.
"SHWIIIISH!! SCHLICK!!"
His arm had barely lifted. Wind screamed behind him. Sword light flickered at his periphery. His right arm went numb—then vanished from his senses...
He looked down dumbly. His forearm lay on the ground below the elbow, fingers still clutching the talisman.
Before the pain of severing could fully register, heat bloomed at his throat. He felt himself... flying. The world spun dizzyingly. Through the haze, he glimpsed a headless body collapsing backward. It looked familiar...
His last conscious thought: That's... me...
"THUD..."
The headless corpse hit the earth. The rolling head followed with a wet thump. Silence crashed over the battlefield.
The three conscious Azure Spring Sect disciples stood frozen, minds blank, unable to process the carnage. Mere seconds ago, death had been certain. Now, their tormentors lay dead—two pierced through, two decapitated—slain by a single blade.
"Dead... all dead! Senior Sister Long... it was a Flying Sword!! A Core Formation Senior saved us!!"
The petite, oval-faced female disciple, barely twenty, broke the silence first. She stared in awestruck wonder at the crimson sword now hovering nearby.
"Saved...?"
The voluptuous Senior Sister Long blinked, dazed. Her shoulders slumped as if strings had been cut. She staggered back two steps, nearly collapsing.
"Senior Sister! Are you hurt?!"
The younger girl darted forward, catching her.
"No... just exhausted." Senior Sister Long managed a weak shake of her head. She popped a Replenishing Pill into her mouth. Color slowly returned to her cheeks. She'd borne the brunt of the fight, defending against two attackers while shielding her junior sister.
"Brother, are you alright? How's Master?" She turned to the male disciple.
"I'm fine. They didn't touch her." The man's right arm bore a deep, bone-gouging gash, his sleeve saturated with blood. He seemed oblivious, carefully lowering the unconscious woman to the ground.
Now visible, the unconscious cultivator appeared to be in her thirties—a stunningly beautiful woman with a figure even more voluptuous than Senior Sister Long's. Even pale and unconscious, an aura of mature grace clung to her.
"Senior Sister Long! Senior Brother Long! The Senior who saved us... he's coming!"
The younger disciple pointed toward the slope. Lin Feng was descending toward them.
The Long siblings tensed instinctively, eyes locking onto the approaching figure. They forced themselves to relax, dropping any semblance of defense. Resistance was pointless against someone who wielded a Flying Sword. Yet, if he'd meant harm, why save them? Relief warred with deep apprehension.
Lin Feng stopped a few paces away. Before he could speak, the male disciple stepped forward, bowing deeply with clasped fists.
"This junior is Long Fei, disciple of the Azure Spring Sect. We owe you our lives, Esteemed Senior. Our gratitude is boundless."
"This junior is Long Xin, disciple of the Azure Spring Sect. We pay our respects to Esteemed Senior." The older sister followed suit, her bow equally deep.
"Th-this junior is... Chen Tianyue... disciple of the Azure Spring Sect... Greetings, Esteemed Senior." The petite girl stammered, her voice trembling slightly. The brutal efficiency of the Flying Sword's slaughter clearly unnerved her.
Seeing their profound reverence, Lin Feng paused—then understood their assumption. He offered a small, reassuring smile.
"I am Lin Feng. Fellow Daoists, please, no need for such formality. I am no 'Senior,' nor a Core Formation cultivator. Like yourselves, I am merely at the Foundation Building stage."
"Wha—?"
Long Fei, Long Xin, and Chen Tianyue gaped at him, disbelief warring with confusion. How could someone wield a Flying Sword without Core Formation cultivation?
Long Fei's eyes suddenly widened with dawning realization.
"Could you be... from the Peerless Sword Sect?!"