The twelve scouts spread out in a coordinated formation, their movements revealing professional military training. In the moonlight, Enzo can see their faces clearly now - hardened warriors with the cold confidence of men who have killed before.
"Last chance, boy,"
The lead scout calls out, his sword gleaming with a faint blue aura.
"Walk away and pretend you saw nothing."
"Counter-offer,"
Enzo replies, golden energy flaring brighter around his hands.
"Surrender now, and I'll make sure you live to regret coming here."
The lead scout's expression shifts from condescension to genuine surprise as he registers the intensity of Enzo's spiritual energy.
"That's... that's Celestial-grade cultivation,"
One of the other scouts whispers.
"How is a junior disciple channeling Celestial-grade energy?"
Celestial-grade? I don't even know what that means, but it sounds impressive.
"It doesn't matter what grade it is,"
The leader snaps.
"Twelve against one. Formation Seven. Take him alive if possible - our employers will want to examine him."
Employers? So they're not acting independently.
The scouts attack with devastating coordination. Three approach from the front while others circle to surround him, their sword techniques flowing together like a choreographed dance of death.
But Enzo's enhanced senses make their coordinated assault seem almost sluggish. He can see each attack coming, track the positioning of every enemy, and identify the gaps in their formation that would be invisible to normal perception.
Time to see what Ancient Era cultivation can really do.
He launches himself directly at the three front attackers, his golden energy-enhanced speed allowing him to close the distance before they can react. His first palm strike connects with the center scout's chest, sending the man flying backward into a tree with enough force to crack the trunk.
One down.
The remaining two front attackers try to flank him, but Enzo spins between their sword strikes like he's dancing, each movement perfectly timed to avoid their blades while positioning him for counterattacks.
His elbow strike catches the second scout in the ribs with a sickening crack, while his follow-up palm thrust sends the third scout tumbling across the forest floor.
Three down. Nine to go.
"Impossible,"
The leader breathes.
"He's moving like a master-level cultivator. Who is this boy?"
I'm someone who's read way too many cultivation novels and now has the power to make them reality.
The remaining scouts abandon their formation and attack all at once, hoping to overwhelm him with pure numbers. But Enzo's golden energy has reached a new level of intensity, creating a faint aura around his entire body that deflects weaker sword strikes.
"Golden Body Manifestation,"
one scout gasps.
"He's achieved Golden Body at his age? That's impossible!"
Golden Body? I'm just channeling energy instinctively, but apparently I'm recreating legendary techniques.
Enzo moves through the attacking scouts like a force of nature. Each movement flows seamlessly into the next - dodge, strike, pivot, counter. His enhanced strength means that even glancing blows send grown men reeling, while his speed makes it nearly impossible for them to land clean hits.
Within two minutes of combat, eight of the twelve scouts are either unconscious or too injured to continue fighting.
This is incredible. I feel like I could take on an entire army.
The remaining four scouts, including their leader, back away with expressions of genuine fear.
"What are you?" the leader demands.
"Someone who doesn't like being spied on,"
Enzo replies, his golden aura pulsing with barely contained power.
"Now, who sent you to watch our sect?"
The lead scout glances at his remaining men, clearly calculating whether they have any chance of victory. The fear in his eyes suggests he's reached the obvious conclusion.
"You're not going to let us leave alive anyway,"
The leader says finally.
"Why should we tell you anything?"
"Because,"
Enzo replies, allowing his golden energy to flare even brighter,
"there's a difference between dying quickly and dying slowly. Cooperate, and I'll make it quick."
Did I just threaten to torture people? This world is really changing me.
But the threat works. The lead scout's resolve visibly crumbles.
"We're advance scouts for the Mount Sword Sect," he admits.
"Master Tian Feng received intelligence about unusual spiritual disturbances coming from this area. We were sent to investigate and assess the sect's defenses."
Mount Sword Sect. That name wasn't in the original novel I read.
"What kind of intelligence?" Enzo asks.
"Reports of a disciple manifesting Ancient Era cultivation techniques. Golden energy signatures that haven't been seen for over a thousand years."
They're here because of me. My power development has attracted exactly the kind of dangerous attention that Master Chen warned about.
"And what were your orders if you found this disciple?"
The scout hesitates, then seems to realize he's past the point of holding back information.
"Capture if possible. Kill if necessary. But under no circumstances allow such abilities to remain under the control of a minor sect."
Kill if necessary. They came here prepared to murder me.
"How long before your sect realizes you're not coming back?" Enzo asks.
"We were supposed to report back tomorrow night. When we don't..."
The scout shrugs.
"Master Tian Feng will assume we encountered complications."
Tomorrow night. That gives the sect maybe two days before Mount Sword Sect realizes their scouts have failed.
"And then what happens?"
The scout's expression becomes grim.
"Then they stop sending scouts and start sending armies."
An entire sect mobilizing to either capture or kill me. This is escalating much faster than I expected.
Before Enzo can ask more questions, his enhanced hearing picks up new sounds from the direction of the sect - alarm bells ringing in the specific pattern that means emergency assembly.
Something's happening back at the sect. Either they've discovered the scouts are missing, or...
His blood runs cold as he realizes the implications.
"How many scout teams did Mount Sword Sect send?" he demands.
The lead scout's silence is answer enough.
"How many?" Enzo repeats, his golden energy flaring dangerously.
"Six teams," the scout admits. "Spread throughout the region to investigate different targets."
Six teams. And I only found one.
"What other targets?"
Enzo asks, though he's already afraid he knows the answer.
"The outer villages. Supply routes. And a direct infiltration team that was supposed to assess the sect's internal defenses."
Infiltration team. Someone's already inside the sect grounds.
Enzo has a split-second decision to make.
He can either secure these remaining scouts to prevent them from escaping, or race back to the sect to help deal with whatever emergency is unfolding there.
The sect has elders and senior disciples who can handle infiltrators. But if I leave these scouts alive, they'll report back about my abilities.
"I'm sorry," he says to the remaining scouts, "but I can't let you leave."
Before they can react, Enzo moves with the full speed his golden energy enhancement allows. Four palm strikes in rapid succession, each precisely targeted to disable rather than kill. The scouts collapse unconscious before they even realize he's moved.
That should keep them out of action for several hours. Long enough for the sect to deal with them properly.
Enzo sprints back toward the sect grounds, his enhanced speed allowing him to cover the distance in minutes rather than the usual half hour. As he gets closer, he can see lights blazing throughout the complex and figures moving urgently between buildings.
Definitely an emergency. But what kind?
He slows his approach as he nears the main gate, not wanting to be mistaken for an attacker in the darkness. But what he sees makes him reconsider that caution.
Bodies. At least three sect disciples lying motionless near the gate, with dark stains spreading beneath them.
They're not just unconscious. Someone killed them.
Moving more carefully now, Enzo makes his way toward the main courtyard where the alarm bells continue to ring. The scene he discovers there is worse than he feared.
Senior disciples are engaged in desperate combat with intruders wearing the same dark clothing as the scouts he just defeated. But these aren't scouts - they're elite warriors whose sword techniques are leagues beyond anything the forest reconnaissance team possessed.
The infiltration team. And they're not here to gather intelligence - they're here to kill.
In the center of the battle, Enzo can see Sect Leader Mei fighting two opponents simultaneously, her own sword techniques pushed to their limits to stay ahead of their coordinated assault.
I need to help. But how do I explain what I was doing outside the sect grounds in the middle of the night?
As he's debating his next move, one of the Mount Sword infiltrators breaks away from the main battle and heads directly toward the dormitory buildings.
The junior disciples. They're going after the weakest targets.
That decision is made for him. Enzo abandons stealth and charges directly at the infiltrator, his golden energy blazing like a miniature sun in the darkness.
"Hey!"
Enzo shouts, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard.
"Looking for someone?"
The Mount Sword infiltrator spins around, his sword already moving in a defensive pattern. But when he sees Enzo's golden aura, his expression shifts from professional focus to complete shock.
"The target," the infiltrator breathes. "You're the one with Ancient Era abilities."
Target. So they definitely came here specifically for me.
"Guilty as charged,"
Enzo replies, settling into a combat stance.
"Though I prefer to think of myself as a person rather than a target."
"It doesn't matter what you think of yourself,"
The infiltrator says, his sword beginning to glow with its own blue-white energy.
"Master Tian Feng has claimed you for Mount Sword Sect. You can come willingly, or we can take your corpse and study it."
Study my corpse. That's both disturbing and oddly flattering.
"Third option," Enzo suggests. "I defeat you, capture your friends, and Mount Sword Sect learns that some targets bite back."
The infiltrator laughs coldly.
"You defeated some reconnaissance scouts and now you think you can face a true sword master? Young man, I've been cultivating for twenty years. Your golden energy is impressive, but you lack the experience to use it properly."
Twenty years of experience versus a few days of Ancient Era power. This should be interesting to see which wins.
The infiltrator attacks with techniques that are clearly from a much higher level than anything Enzo has faced so far. His sword seems to split into multiple images, each one potentially real, creating a web of death that should be impossible to navigate.
Multiple sword images. That's an advanced technique that requires incredible spiritual energy control.
But Enzo's enhanced perception allows him to track the real blade among the illusions. More importantly, his instinctive understanding of combat tells him that the technique, while visually impressive, has a fundamental weakness.
He has to commit to one actual attack vector. All I have to do is identify which one is real.
Enzo waits until the last possible second, then steps directly into what appears to be the path of three different sword strikes. The other sect members watching from a distance gasp in apparent horror.
But Enzo's timing is perfect. He passes harmlessly through two illusions and catches the real sword blade with his golden energy-enhanced palm.
Got him.
The infiltrator's eyes widen in shock as his supposedly unstoppable technique is negated by what appears to be impossible reflexes and timing.
"How did you..." he starts to ask.
Enzo doesn't let him finish the question. His counter-attack is a simple palm thrust, but backed by the full power of his golden energy cultivation. The impact sends the infiltrator flying backward with enough force to crack the stone wall he hits.
That felt good. Really good.
But his victory celebration is interrupted by slow clapping from the shadows near the main hall.
"Impressive," a new voice calls out. "Very impressive indeed."
A figure steps into the courtyard's light, and Enzo immediately knows this is someone far more dangerous than anyone he's faced so far. The man appears to be in his thirties, with silver-streaked hair and eyes that seem to glow with their own internal light. His robes are deep purple with gold trim, and the sword at his side radiates an aura of barely contained power.
This isn't a scout or an infiltrator. This is someone important.
"I am Sword Master Chen Lu, Third Elder of Mount Sword Sect,"
The man announces formally.
"And you, young man, are coming with me."
A Sword Master. And a sect elder. This night just got much more complicated.
Around the courtyard, Enzo can see that the other battles have stopped. Everyone - both Hua Peak defenders and Mount Sword attackers - is watching this confrontation with the attention it clearly deserves.
"Actually,"
Enzo replies, his golden energy flaring even brighter,
"I think I'll stay right here."
Sword Master Chen Lu smiles, and Enzo realizes he's looking at someone who genuinely enjoys the prospect of combat.
"I was hoping you'd say that,"
Chen Lu says, drawing his sword in one fluid motion.
"It's been far too long since I faced someone with truly interesting abilities."
Well, this should be fun. Time to see if Ancient Era cultivation can stand up to a real sword master.
As both combatants prepare for what promises to be an epic confrontation, the night air crackles with the clash of opposing spiritual energies - ancient golden power against refined sword cultivation.