Chapter 8: Are There Still Masters?

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Whoosh!
The gleam of a blade cut through the night, curtains fluttered, and a severed head flew up, blood splattering the ceiling, plunging the scene into chaos.
In the darkness, Qin Liang’s twin blades crossed and rubbed together, briefly sparking dazzling flashes.
Guided by the fleeting light, he discerned the positions of the others and swiftly swung his blades twice more, dispatching two more foes.
He moved like a reaper in the shadows—silent and merciless in his strikes.
“Wuwu…”
The bound girl on the bed turned pale, wanting to scream but a cloth gag muffled her cries.
Inside the room, five men, disheveled and unarmed, had no chance to fight back; within three breaths, three lay dead.
The remaining two, uncertain of their enemy’s strength, could only evade desperately.
Bang!
Qin Liang’s blade sliced through a folding screen, splitting it in two. The man hiding behind it recoiled in panic but couldn’t escape fate; Qin Liang, like a phantom, closed in and beheaded him with a single stroke.
Another, spotting the door in the brief spark, attempted to flee, only to be pierced through the back by a long blade, blood spraying vividly.
Qin Liang’s ambush was flawless; in no more than four breaths, he had effortlessly eliminated five third-level Spirit Refiners.
Yet he knew Zhong Wei, a fourth-level Spirit Refiner, had likely sensed the commotion and was probably on his way.
Qin Liang approached the bed and severed the ropes binding the girl, tossing her a garment. “You know how to leave, right?”
The girl, who had resigned herself to death, was momentarily stunned by his words.
She removed the gag and nodded rapidly like a pecking chick. “Yes, I know.”
“Go!”
Seeing her hastily dress, Qin Liang led her out, but as they stepped into the corridor, a surge of danger washed over him.
He had no time to think further and quickly raised his blades in defense with a loud clang.
A tremendous force slammed into him, sending him tumbling twice down the corridor. He felt a heavy pressure on his chest and coughed up blood but swallowed it back forcibly.
“Are you alright?” the girl panicked.
She feared Qin Liang had risked his life to save her, and if her savior died, she would be doomed as well.
“Don’t worry about me, just run!”
Qin Liang knew the urgency; the girl’s cultivation was low, and her presence would only hinder him.
“But…” she hesitated, unwilling to abandon him.
“No one leaves.”

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Zhong Wei’s voice was icy as he advanced swiftly, his blade cutting through the air. Fourth-level Spirit Refiners were indeed as swift as the wind.
“Hurry!” Qin Liang sprang into action, pushing the girl toward the stairwell with a soft palm strike, then drew his blades to confront Zhong Wei, buying time for her escape.
“Thank you for saving me. I will repay you someday,” the girl said earnestly before turning to flee.
Clad in thin clothes, she staggered out and soon vanished into the night, leaving Zhong Wei’s expression dark and grim.
Since the start of this mission, this was the first time he had lost his quarry.
“Very well, whoever you are, today you die.” Zhong Wei roared, slashing fiercely and forcing Qin Liang back. With a powerful kick, he lunged like a tiger, aiming to kill him on the spot.
Qin Liang swiftly moved with the Windstep technique, dodging sideways as a violent explosion erupted where he had stood.
Whoosh!
Zhong Wei’s sweeping blade pinned Qin Liang against the railing before delivering a brutal kick.
The strike was no ordinary blow; facing it head-on could easily break bones and shatter tendons.
Desperate, Qin Liang slammed a fist into the railing behind him, breaking it and losing his support. He then leapt backward, falling from the second floor into the courtyard, narrowly evading the lethal kick.
“Hmph!”
Zhong Wei leapt down after him, blade flashing as it sliced through the air with a whistling sound.
His blade came down, but Qin Liang avoided it, weaving through the courtyard with the Windstep, seeking an opening.
“Only a second-level Spirit Refiner and already this fast? I cannot let you live.”
Zhong Wei’s murderous intent surged as he unleashed his basic martial arts skills, matching or surpassing Qin Liang’s speed. His blade flickered relentlessly, each strike forcing Qin Liang back.
“Pft!”
Qin Liang was driven against the courtyard wall, coughing blood heavily, his face pale.
The disparity was vast; though Qin Liang’s strength exceeded that of his peers, he was no match for Zhong Wei.
Zhong Wei was cautious, wielding his blade to prevent Qin Liang from closing in to use the Seven Star Fist technique.
This was troublesome.
Zhong Wei pressed the attack without pause, wildly slashing.
Clang, clang, clang…
Qin Liang barely blocked the relentless barrage of blade strikes with his twin swords, but each blow from a fourth-level Spirit Refiner drained him further; he coughed more blood, his condition worsening.
The battle raged fiercely; dust swirled, and the grass and flowers in the courtyard were trampled.
Bang!
Qin Liang was forced back again, smashing a water jar, his body battered and weakening.

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Zhong Wei remained calm, not finding the fight overly taxing.
“You are strong, but only a second-level Spirit Refiner. It ends here.”
He gripped his blade with both hands, preparing to deliver the final blow. Five comrades had fallen; the grief was immense. If he failed to kill this black-clad man, he could never explain to Li Hongcai.
At that moment, a sudden breeze swept through the courtyard, carrying the sound of rushing air and rapidly approaching.
“Another expert?”
Zhong Wei’s expression shifted slightly but he remained composed, holding his blade behind him and maneuvering his body.
Whoosh!
He barely dodged a sword strike carried on the wind, a lock of hair sliced off.
The newcomer was another masked figure clad in black, wielding a long sword, slender and graceful. Under the moonlight, her figure was discernible—curvaceous and likely a woman.
Qin Liang was surprised—another ally at this critical moment? Who else would dare oppose Li Hongcai?
His own condition was poor; his internal organs were bruised, and his limbs numb.
Seizing a rare moment, he pulled two herbs from the black-clad assassin’s bag and chewed and swallowed them.
They were ordinary medicines, not even first grade, but enough to stabilize his injuries and gradually restore sensation, as long as he could still wield his blade.
“Impressive.”
Zhong Wei looked at the black-clad woman with genuine praise—this was more like his kind of opponent.
The woman glanced casually at Qin Liang without much concern; she had not come specifically to rescue him.
“Hmph!”
Seeing Zhong Wei’s lecherous smile, a flash of disdain crossed the woman’s eyes. She snorted lightly, tapped the ground with elegant feet, and launched a sword attack.
Blade met sword with a sharp clash. Zhong Wei was pushed back, struggling to defend.
“You’re a fifth-level Spirit Refiner?”
Zhong Wei’s surprise deepened, the pressure mounting. Every sword strike felt like being rammed by a bull, each step backward leaving deep marks on the ground.
The black-clad woman remained silent, relentlessly wielding her sword—this seemed to be her sole purpose.
“Fifth-level Spirit Refiner…”
Qin Liang was puzzled but relieved. With her fighting Zhong Wei, he only needed to wait for a chance to slip away. After all, he had come masked; exposure of his identity would cause serious trouble.
As he prepared to quietly escape, his expression suddenly changed again.
Zhong Wei went berserk, his voice cold as ice: “Since you force me to burn my Dao root, you will all perish with me!”