I tensed, but when Ruan Yanjun's hand rested on my shoulder, I was reminded of the immense power that he possessed. With the strongest cultivator in the world by my side, there was nothing to fear.
He pulled the curtain aside so we could both see.
Outside, around twenty men in dark robes stood ominously, their faces covered to shield against the sand and likely to conceal their identities. They faced off against the eight men Ruan Yanjun had hired, who stood ready despite the disadvantage in number.
"You are outnumbered," one of the attackers said. "Surrender the fugitive Wei Fan and we will leave you unharmed."
My heart skipped a beat. They were indeed were after me.
"Lord Ruan," I gasped, "The men are outnumbered. We should help them."
He glanced at me, unfazed. "Stay here and watch. Do you really think your uncle would recruit mediocre talents for his notorious gang?"
"But those men are probably elite guards from the palace," I insisted. "Handpicked cultivators from several sects across Kan Empire."
Ruan Yanjun smirked. "Then let's see how the imperial palace's finest hold up against what they call a band of lowly criminals."
I stared at Ruan Yanjun's face. Though my vision was not perfect, I was almost certain his eyes were gleaming with eager anticipation for the battle to begin.
"If you can kill us all, then he's yours," the eldest of the Silverblades gang taunted with a sardonic grin. The towering, muscular figure who had introduced himself earlier as Xiang Long stood at the forefront, the unmistakable leader of the group.
"Very well," the leader of the attackers said, turning to nod at his men. In unison, they unsheathed their swords.
The Silverblades followed suit.
With a swift wave of his hand, the attackers' leader signaled and the battle erupted.
I held my breath, watching intently. Dust quickly engulfed the battleground as both sides charged toward each other. Blades clashed for mere seconds before the first cry of death ripped through the air.
Each of the Silverblades' men faced off against two opponents, some even having to contend with three. My worry grew, fearing the next death would be one of my uncle's men. My grip tightened around my bamboo stick, ready to leap from the window to aid them.
Then, Xiang Long roared. With a massive glaive crackling with energy, he swung it through the line, smashing his way through his three opponents, sending them scattering like fallen leaves.
I was left breathless. I had never imagined the Silverblades possessed warriors of such power.
Ruan Yanjun scoffed and shook his head. "I highly doubt the crown prince of Kan managed to convince the emperor to lend him the palace's elite guards. Those men are just mercenaries."
One by one, the attackers fell. Their numbers didn't give them even the slightest advantage.
Ruan Yanjun was right. If those were truly the renowned Elite Guards of Kan Empire, they wouldn't have been dispatched so easily.
Minutes later, the clashing of swords ceased. When the dust finally settled, twenty men lay motionless in the sand, the last one still kneeling, gasping for breath right before Xiang Long.
The group leader pressed the tip of his glaive under the survivor's chin. "Who sent you?"
As expected from most mercenaries, the man remained silent, his lips sealed.
"Let's go welcome your guest," Ruan Yanjun said, suddenly pulling me by the hand.
As I stepped out of the carriage, a wave of hot air engulfed me, the sudden change in temperature leaving me momentarily disoriented.
We approached the group of men just as Xiang Long questioned the mercenary, "Did the crown prince hire you?"
The man stayed silent, refusing to respond.
"He won't talk," Ruan Yanjun said. "Search the bodies for clues."
The men obeyed without hesitation, and within moments, one called out, "I found something!" He handed a note to Xiang Long.
Xiang Long scanned the note silently for a moment before reading it aloud. "If you come across the fugitive, kill him immediately and deliver his head to my study as proof. Your reward will be substantial. Signed, Qilin."
A chill ran down my spine at the words I heard. The sheer brutality of their intent left me shaken. If I were to die, I wanted my body to be buried intact—not decapitated and my head paraded as a trophy.
"Who is Qilin?" Ruan Yanjun asked.
Xiang Long chuckled. "It's an alias of the crown prince's general."
"Is it Liang Yuan?" I asked, my fingers trembling, hoping that I was mistaken.
Xiang Long looked at me and smiled. "The crown prince has four generals. It's not Liang Yuan."
I breathed a sigh of relief. If it had been my childhood friend who ordered my death, it would have crushed me completely.
"Qilin is otherwise known as General Yun Tian," Xiang Long continued.
My eyes widened upon hearing the familiar name. "Yun Tian? Is he a disciple of Ethereal Frost?"
"Was," the leader replied. "And I believe he was your senior sect brother."
I was speechless, my jaw falling open. Yun Tian had been a constant source of trouble for Master Wei in the past. Fond of reading illicit books, he'd been reprimanded countless times. Even after they confiscated and burned his entire collection, he continued to purchase those forbidden materials, stashing them in my room for safekeeping. Despite his peculiar obsession, Yun Tian had a decent personality and would always shrink away at the mere sight of women, which led me to believe he was simply overwhelmed by curiosity that had spiraled out of control.
I had covered for him more times than I could count. Without my help, he would have been expelled from the sect long ago. And now, he wanted me dead?
I stroked my forehead as reality began to sink into me.
"Since we have no more use for you..." Xiang Long raised his glaive, preparing to behead the man.
"Not yet," Ruan Yanjun interjected. "I have a purpose for him."
Xiang Long lowered his glaive and stepped aside as Ruan Yanjun approached the captive with a wicked smirk. "I'll give you a chance to live," he said.
The man's eyes lifted to Ruan Yanjun, a glimmer of hope flickering in them.
Ruan Yanjun pointed in my direction. "If you can defeat him in a duel, we'll let you go. Do you accept?"
My eyes widened in shock, and I instinctively took a step back.
What is he thinking? This man has to be at least a third-level cultivator. How could Lord Ruan possibly believe I stand a chance?
Noticing my reaction, Ruan Yanjun strode over to me. "Don't tell me you're afraid to face an exhausted level three cultivator."
"Lord Ruan, my stamina is not that good either."
"That's why this is the perfect opportunity for you to use the move I taught you?"
"The Hard Thrust?"
"The latest one."
I remembered a sly trick Ruan Yanjun had taught me just before we left Prince Ru's residence. It involved striking an opponent in a particularly sensitive area.
He had said it was a tactic I could use when faced with a stronger adversary I couldn't defeat. It would buy me enough time to escape.
At first, I was reluctant to resort to such an underhanded move, as it went against my principles. But Ruan Yanjun had persuaded me, arguing that it could be the difference between life and death in dire situations.
"Trust me. With the number of people hunting you, this move will come in handy," he said. "And I already have a name for it."
"What is it?"
"I call it Quickie."
"Quickie?" I echoed. "What does that mean?"
"It means when the urge to fight is too strong but the timing is off, you need to finish it quickly."
"I have no reason to rush right now."
"The sun is scorching. If you fight him at your usual pace, the heat will drain you."
I sighed. "Then Sect Leader Ruan, please refresh my memory."
"Simple. Wait for him to spread his stance and thrust your stick into the space between his feet. Don't hit anything directly—he'll think you missed. Before he counters, whip your stick upward and strike whatever's there."
I tried to imagine his instruction. What else would be there but a pair of...
I sighed. "It still feels unethical."
"And how else do you expect to defeat a third level?"
I had no response.
He sighed. "A-Fan, I'm not teaching you this drag down your honor, but desperate times call for having a trick up your sleeve if you want to survive. This man has no escape anyway. Consider this practice."
"Why can't I just practice on someone else?"
"Do you think anyone would willingly risk their lineage for your training?"
"I'll hit gently."
"You can't do this move gently. It has to be done hard and fast, otherwise, you won't finish it on time and you'll be deprived."
I sighed again. "Fine," I said and strode toward my opponent who was already back to his feet.
I tightened my grip on the bamboo stick in my hand and took a deep breath. Through the haze of my vision, I could make out the blurred form of the bandit, hunched and panting, determined to win an opportunity to survive.
He was strong, that much was clear even with my poor eyesight. The earlier battle had sapped his strength, yet he still possessed the raw power to crush me if I faltered.
He came at me with a roar, the sound splitting the tense air. I sensed the shift in his stance, the rapid displacement of energy that betrayed the angle of his attack. Steel whistled past my ear as I sidestepped. I pivoted, bringing my bamboo stick up in a defensive position. The impact sent a shiver through my arm, but I held firm, redirecting his force to the side.
He was tiring, his movements turning frantic, fueled by desperation rather than precision.
I waited, letting him exhaust himself further. His swings grew erratic, wider. A gap opened, a brief window of vulnerability. I shifted my weight, stepped in close, and drove my bamboo stick forward with a sharp snap.
He grunted as the strike found its mark—a sensitive spot below his belt. The sound was half pain, half disbelieving gasp.
It wasn't exactly the way Ruan Yanjun had instructed, but the move was executed anyway.
The man crumpled, knees buckling beneath him, and for a heartbeat, time seemed to freeze. I let out a slow exhale, the tension in my muscles loosening as I took a step back.
I thought the fight was over and I could go back inside the cool carriage, but I sensed some subtle movements behind me that screamed of danger.
I whirled around, my sight catching only the blur of movement, the bandit's final, reckless lunge, a madness of one unwilling to yield.
My body moved on its own and executed another move that Ruan Yanjun had taught me. My energy flowed into the stick as I thrust it toward the man's throat.
Ruan Yanjun called the move Hard Thrust. It had indeed hit harder than I had planned.
Right before me, the man's eyes widened, the light in them dimming as he stumbled and fell, collapsing into the sand with a lifeless thud.
Silence engulfed the whole place as I stood there in utter shock.
One man came forward and pressed a finger on my opponent's pulse. "He's dead."
I quickly turned away, unable to stand the sight of my victim. I happened to see Ruan Yanjun wearing a wicked grin.
"A-Fan, how could you kill a helpless man?" he taunted as he approached me. "He's already beaten. What happened to mercy and forgiveness?" He leaned closer to me, his face so near I could feel his breath over my face. "What happened to that righteous path that you've sworn to never stray from?"
I pushed him away and returned inside the carriage. I heard him laughing behind me.
My hands were shaking. I was afraid that Ruan Yanjun was succeeding in turning me into a devil like himself, and that was why he was that happy.