Andy pounced towards the killer of his big brother, brandishing his sword in a wide arc.
He was overflowing with anger and the desire to avenge his brother. His emotions were displayed in his domineering attack.
Whoosh!
His sword cut through the air like a tyrant's decree, swift and unyielding like a bolt of lightning.
After Alexei, Andy was the strongest amongst the henchmen of Big Joe. Although Andy wasn't comparable in terms of strength to Alexei, he was better in terms of skills. His martial arts were a level above Alexei.
Martial arts are battle techniques that mortals and introductory phase combatants use to enhance their fighting capabilities, significantly improving their combat effectiveness. There are four levels of martial arts mastery: Beginner, Intermediate, Advanced, and Grand Completion.
Alexei had reached the Advanced level of his sword technique, while Andy had reached the Completion level of his martial arts. If Andy had the talent to cultivate, he would have been a fearsome introductory phase combatant.
His attack was fierce and fast. Timon and Pumbaa, who were well-trained martial artists, could barely make out Andy's attack. Since even they struggled to follow his attack, it was only right to consider that a normal martial artist didn't stand a chance against Andy.
However, the one who was attacked wasn't a normal person at all.
He was Sal D. Douglas!
Although he wasn't as strong as he used to be before time travel, he still wasn't someone a mere master of martial arts could contend against.
In his eyes, Andy was moving so slowly that he could read his movements. With hundreds of years of combat knowledge, he could also tell the flaws in Andy's attack and determine how to subdue him in the least amount of time.
As Andy's sword drew closer to his neck, Sal ducked to dodge it. Andy's sword went just above Sal's head as the latter immediately struck back, thrusting his sword forward.
He struck back with such speed and so suddenly that it was almost impossible for Andy to dodge.
Squelch!
The sickening sound of flesh being penetrated rang out as Andy was stabbed. A sword went through his chest and came out of his back. He felt cold, breathless, and pained all over.
"Argh!" A terrible scream erupted from Andy's mouth as Sal twisted the sword embedded in his body before yanking it out forcefully.
Drip, drop!
The body of the sword was thickly covered in Andy's blood. Drops of Andy's blood slid down from its surface and dripped to the ground.
Sal didn't bother shaking the blood off the sword as he locked eyes with Andy.
His gaze was cold, calculating, and merciless while Andy's gaze was overflowing with pain and desperation.
Andy wasn't desperate to survive; he was foolish but not foolish enough to not realize he was done for. He was desperate for an entirely different reason. He wanted to take down his brother's killer before death takes him away.
"I will bring you down with me!"
He attempted a final, desperate attack to take Sal down with him, but before his attack could land, a cold gleam flashed through his neck.
"In your next life, don't court death so recklessly."
Sal gave one final piece of advice to Andy as he beheaded him.
Andy's head tragically soared through the air, landing at Sal's feet shortly after. At the same time, his headless body collapsed to the ground. His headless body laid sprawled next to Sal's feet, motionless, just like his head.
Immediately after Andy was killed, wisps of different colored smoke rose from his body—a clear indication that Sal would be seeing this sight each time he killed a person.
He didn't know what they did. Maybe they could be beneficial to him or maybe they could be harmful, but he didn't have the time to run trials.
The strongest two of the four guards had been killed. Two more were left. Then there was still his actual target—Big Joe. He needed to take them all out before the Night Patrol was alerted.
"Are you going to fight or give up your life without resistance?" Sal asked, looking towards Pumbaa and Timon with a menacing gaze.
Under his stare, the two guards felt like fish on a chopping board and shivered uncontrollably.
"Fuck, I didn't sign up for this."
"It's too much."
"Fighting him represent a dead end, but I don't want to die so young."
"Me neither."
"Then there's only option left."
They exchanged a meaningful glance, mutually agreeing to betraying their leader.
Forsaking their duty, they acted to preserve their lives, making a run for it.
Avenging the death of their vice leader and his little brother, such desires did bubble up in their hearts as they shared a good relation with them for many years now, but they knew they were too weak to take on the mysterious figure.
If they dared to tackle him head on, they would end up dead too. If they died here, then they would have no chance of taking revenge or avenging the wrongful death of their comrades.
Only by escaping alive and reporting this matter to the camp leader did they stand a chance of taking him down. So they were doing the right thing by running away.
Seeing them run away, Sal gave chase.
They had to die here. After all, they would pose a significant threat to him in the future if they were left alive.
Though he had concealed his face with the umbrella, his body was still visible. If an investigation was launched and they encountered him, there was a risk they could identify him as the mysterious killer, which would land him in trouble with the authorities of the refugee camp, and his intuition told him that would do him no good.
"He is coming after us."
"Let's toss our weapon at him. It should buy us some valuable time."
Weapons came flying, aiming to obstruct Sal's movement. He sneered and changed his breathing pattern.
"Ancestral Breathing Technique, the third form, Breath of Unrecognizable Changes, Manipulation!"
Twenty-five units of his spiritual energy left his spiritual vessel, rushing down his legs. His cultivation dropped from level 2 of the introductory phase to level 1, but this act allowed him to activate a fearsome spiritual technique.
Fleeting Shadow!
Spiritual energy burst out of his feet, propelling his body forward with such speed he seemed to have vanished. He twisted his waist to dodge past the swords thrown at him. They dropped behind him and made clanking noises as he emerged before the guards who were running away.
"In my presence, running away is not an option," he said coldly as he attacked.
The eyes of the target of his attacks widened in fear.
Pumbaa and Timon were unarmed and defenseless, and their speed was laughable compared to Sal's. Not to mention, they were caught off guard. They could neither block nor successfully dodge as death approached them.
Splat!
A cold gleam flashed through their defenseless selves. Their bodies were severed at the waist, and their upper halves slid off their lower halves, dropping to the ground as blood sprayed in every direction. The ground beneath their torsos was painted red, and after a moment, their lower halves fell lifelessly beside their upper halves.