Volume One: Youth Enters the World Chapter Forty-Eight: The Rescue

Outside, Fang Tian stood atop a tree branch, seeking the source of the disturbance. Scanning his surroundings, he quickly pinpointed the clashing of weapons not far to the east. With a gentle tap, he leapt from the branch, moving toward the noise, and when he was near, he dropped down and concealed himself behind a large tree.

He tilted his gaze, careful to observe the scene ahead; he needed to see exactly what was unfolding. Before him, a group of men clad in black were besieging two girls dressed in fitted azure garments. Blades flashed, swords gleamed, slicing through the night, chaos reigning. The girls defended themselves while retreating, parrying attacks from all sides. Though they managed for now, it was clear they were slowly losing ground; it wouldn’t be long before they succumbed.

“So someone’s being hunted. Best I leave quickly; if discovered, things could turn sour,” Fang Tian murmured.

Just as he was about to slip away, one of the black-clad men suddenly glanced in his direction, catching sight of him. At once, the man shouted, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

Fang Tian halted, slightly vexed—he’d been careless. Had he known, he would have simply returned via the branches. Now, discovered, he couldn’t just leave; they’d surely pursue him, causing trouble.

He turned, flashed a smile, and said, “I’m merely passing by, no intention to intrude. Please, carry on.”

The black-clad man ignored his words and rushed toward Fang Tian. As he approached, he barked, “Since you’ve seen this, blame your misfortune.”

With that, he raised his long blade and slashed at Fang Tian, apparently convinced Fang Tian would not survive.

Fang Tian, seeing the incoming blade, reached behind him and drew a longsword from his spatial sheath, channeling spiritual energy into its blade to meet the attack.

Steel met steel with a resonant clang. A chilling aura emanated from Fang Tian’s sword, creeping up the attacker’s blade. In an instant, frost covered the blade, and the black-clad man, sensing danger, quickly retreated.

He dropped his blade, for the frost continued to spread, threatening to reach his hand. The sword struck the ground, shattering into fragments, ice lingering before finally halting.

The black-clad man eyed the frozen pieces, then fixed his gaze on Fang Tian. “Boy, are you a cultivator?”

Fang Tian sheathed his sword, his expression unreadable. Calmly, he replied, “I told you, I’m just passing through.”

The other black-clad men, still besieging the girls, paused at the commotion and turned to look. The two girls, now granted a moment’s respite, planted their swords in the earth, bent over, supporting themselves on their hilts, eyes now fixed on Fang Tian.

“Come back!” called one of the black-clad men, beckoning his wounded comrade away from Fang Tian.

“That one seems to be their leader,” Fang Tian thought, watching the man approach. “His cultivation isn’t weak—I’ll need to be careful.”

The leader stepped forward, addressing Fang Tian: “Young man, since you are a cultivator, I’ll not make things difficult. Leave now.”

“Just like that? Will you chase me once I’m gone?” Fang Tian chuckled.

“Rest assured. Since I’ve spoken, I’ll keep my word. Go on,” the man replied.

“But your subordinate tried to kill me—is that to be ignored?” Fang Tian’s tone was tinged with anger.

The man’s brow furrowed. This boy…

“I said leave—don’t be ungrateful!” he snapped coldly.

“Fine, fine, I’ll go. Is that not enough?” Fang Tian waved in concession, then turned to depart.

“Sir, please save us!” one of the girls cried out.

Fang Tian turned, regarding them. “Why should I save you? What’s in it for me?”

“If you rescue us, I’ll agree to any request you make,” the girl said earnestly, as if she’d already resolved herself.

“Oh? Any request? I’m tempted, honestly. What should I do?” Fang Tian stroked his chin, feigning contemplation.

The leader, seeing the situation shift, barked at Fang Tian, “Are you leaving or not? If not, don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

“Why so impatient? Can’t you see I’m thinking? And whether I leave or not—what’s it to you?” Fang Tian retorted dismissively.

The leader finally realized Fang Tian was toying with him, rage building within.

“If you want to die, I’ll oblige.”

“Don’t pretend. I suspect after you deal with those girls, your next step is to hunt me down,” Fang Tian replied, half-smiling.

“Hmph, clever, aren’t you?”

The leader signaled his men to resume their assault on the girls, while he strode toward Fang Tian. “I intended to let you live a while longer, but it seems you’re unwilling.”

“Tell me, masked man, doesn’t all this talking make you uncomfortable?”

“Your tongue is sharp; I hope your strength matches it.”

“Come and see for yourself, then.”

“Arrogant!”

The leader summoned his spiritual energy, raised his blade, and charged at Fang Tian like a tiger descending from the mountain, fierce and relentless.

Fang Tian met him, sword raised, channeling chilling power into the blade. The cold surged forth, shrouding the leader’s blade.

Failing in his initial strike, the leader retreated, shattered the frost with a surge of spiritual energy, then attacked anew.

“Martial technique: Tiger’s Roar to the Heavens,” he muttered.

He and his blade seemed to merge, transforming into a roaring tiger charging at Fang Tian, toppling trees in its wake, power astounding.

Fang Tian remained composed; from their earlier exchange, he gauged the leader’s cultivation at the fifth stage of Spirit Gathering—a perfect test of his own strength.

Let’s see if I can stand against him.

He raised his sword, silently recited, “Frost Sword Art, third stance: Point of Cold.”

His body became a shadow, vanishing, colliding with the leader’s technique.

Fang Tian’s sword became a glint of icy light; the tip flashed coldly, shattering the leader’s martial move, breaking his blade, piercing his body.

The leader’s eyes widened as the sword entered his chest, disbelief etched on his face—he hadn't expected to fall to a stranger.

Frost spread from the wound, enveloping him entirely in the blink of an eye, freezing him into an ice statue.

Fang Tian withdrew his sword, the statue shattered into fragments, the leader dead, his spirit dissipated.

“Seems I underestimated myself; just the third stance was enough to kill him,” Fang Tian mused, glancing at the shards, then turned his attention to the two girls.

Freed from the leader’s pressure, the girls began to counterattack, dispatching the remaining black-clad men one by one.

Soon, only a few remained. Those, seeing their leader slain, knew to stay meant death; they retreated and fled.

One girl started after them, but after a few steps, her injuries flared—she dropped to one knee, spat blood, and fainted. The other girl rushed to support her, abandoning pursuit.

Seeing the fleeing men, Fang Tian vanished, pursued, and froze them into statues.

Task complete, Fang Tian walked toward the two girls.