Why do I have so many masters?

Hang Yong followed Master and Senior Uncle slowly through the area that was considered a place of peace and natural beauty. Jiangnan was known for its fine scenery, a saying that had spread for hundreds of years and was naturally true. But he had no leisure in his heart to enjoy the landscape.

His muscles were tense all over, and the palm of his right hand, which held the sword, was sweaty and had dried repeatedly, already slick.

Their Liu Sword Sect was just an obscure little sect on Jiangnan Road.

The Gang Leader had once wandered through Jianghu on the edge of life and death, learning martial arts. He had even spent several years under Heavenly Mountain, learning a Heavenly Mountain Sword Technique from a master.

But it was only a rudimentary sword technique from Heavenly Mountain. In the eyes of the ordinary people of Jianghu, it was already considered a superior dharma.

Back then, the Sect Leader of the Liu Sword Sect made a name for himself in several counties relying on this sword technique. In his middle age, with his increasingly high reputation, he smoothly established his own sect and widely accepted disciples.

More than a decade passed, and originally, in the nearby county towns attached to the sect, disciples of the Liu Sword Sect were quite prestigious. This time, however, they were half compelled to participate in this ambush, feeling uneasy in their hearts.

It was called an ambush, but deep down they knew very well, they were no match at all. It was just wishful thinking that when they agreed, they never imagined their names would be drawn.

Among the thirteen noble clans of Jiangnan Road, the Wen Family might have its footing in the Imperial Court and not be known for martial prowess, but they were still not to be compared with small sects and gangs.

To be able to kill the Family Head of the Wen Family and still escape from their manor, remaining hidden in the mountains and forests for nearly two months, clearly showed that the opponent was not something they were prepared to deal with.

He did not want to come here.

Regrettably, many things in Jianghu cannot be avoided just because one wishes to avoid them.

The twenty-plus people from the Liu Sword Sect moved with the same footsteps, each holding a longsword and protecting each other in a formation, the young man in the middle carrying a clever bamboo tube mechanism at his waist. With one pull, it could ignite the Heavenly Fire, which could be clearly seen for dozens of miles around.

When that happened, real masters would naturally come to aid them.

But in Hang Yong's heart, he had already felt that even if masters came to their rescue, it was likely to be too late. By the time the masters arrived, he didn't know if the head on his neck would still be there.

Hang Yong swallowed hard.

Probably not...

His right hand subconsciously gripped the longsword tighter, the yellow sword tassel hanging from the hilt. Thinking of his family at home, warmth filled his heart, but it quickly turned to powerlessness and bleakness.

There was a rustling sound in the bushes ahead, and the nerves of the twenty-plus people from the Liu Sword Sect instantly tensed up. The middle-aged man leading them held his sword high and shouted sternly.

Meanwhile, the young man protected by everyone in the middle had already grabbed the bamboo tube, his left hand pulling at the fuse, eyes wide with a hint of panic, just waiting for the situation to be confirmed before pulling the fuse at once, so that the masters could arrive sooner.

The greatest yet weakest hope in his heart was that the enemy, upon seeing the Heavenly Fire rise, would know the difficulty and retreat, avoiding a confrontation with them.

Their breathing grew heavier, and the killing intent surged like a rapid undercurrent, never ceasing for a moment, yet the surface remained calm.

About the time it would take to drink a cup of tea, Hang Yong's tense nerves slightly relaxed.

Suddenly, he heard an extremely subtle mechanical sound, his heart trembled, and the next moment, a fellow disciple holding the Heavenly Fire mechanism in the middle screamed in pain, the mechanism already plummeting to the ground.

Like startled birds, the sound of vibrating swords was incessant.

Lan Hongyi and his companions, still tens of meters away from the Liu Sword Sect's martial artists, approached with calm expressions, selecting the right angles, moving so silently as to be undetectable.

When only thirty meters remained, the leading old soldier from the Divine Martial Mansion raised his right hand, and all footsteps came to an abrupt halt. Then, that slightly aged but still powerful hand firmly made a chopping motion.

Lan Hongyi's face tightened slightly, he swallowed the elixir, and when the medicinal power spread, he took a deep breath and operated the Light Body Technique at full strength. He completely gave up soaring and regathering Qi, sacrificing this for a short-term explosive enhancement to the utmost limit.

He stepped out, one step at a time.

After seven steps, their speed had already accelerated to such a degree that even they themselves struggled to control it.

The regulation waist saber was held diagonally in hand.

Right hand gripping the saber, the veins on his palm bulging, directing it properly.

The blade hummed continuously.

The sound of rustling almost simultaneously erupted from every direction.

Five men in each direction, a total of twenty, with a momentum as if charging into a battle with a sense of dire desperation, broke through the dense forest and instantly engaged with the members of the Liu Sword Sect.

Ordinary martial artists use their movement technique with at least a third of their strength in reserve because the fierce battles of Jianghu require consideration for retreat and not just blind bravery.

But there is no need for such precautions in a military formation.

Lan Hongyi still remembered the first thing he was told upon joining: to trust his comrades. As a spearhead, one must commit with full strength, leaving one's back to his allies.

If charging into formation, one must exert his limits then and there.

To die or to live.

From four directions, the Qing Taoqi charged like four sharp Mo Blades, in an instant tearing apart the Liu Sword Sect's interlocking formation.

Elder Lu watched silently from above.