Chapter Eighty-Eight: No One Shall Leave

Bang! A figure plummeted from the sky, crashing into the distant withered vines buried deep in snow.

Moments later, several sharp whistles sliced through the air. Amidst a flurry of sword-lights, three figures descended one after another. Two men and a woman, each with an extraordinary bearing, clad in white robes, riding their flying swords, cast cold eyes upon the person who had fallen first. The woman turned her gaze toward the grass pavilion amidst the wind and snow, and whispered, “Senior brothers, there’s someone over there.”

“Don’t worry, junior sister. With us here, no one will interfere today,” declared the thick-browed, square-faced man.

“Indeed. If we don’t kill this wretch today, I, Zhao Xuguang, will never rid myself of this hatred,” the short-bearded man said coldly.

“Cough… Don’t resort to violence. Let’s talk this over. Lingfeng, you can’t just stand by and watch me die!” The man who had crawled out from the snow pile pleaded, his eyes darting about, clearly searching for a chance to escape.

“Pah! Who’s your junior sister? Li Jianren, return my innocence!” The woman’s almond-shaped brows arched fiercely as she thrust her sword at the young man in the snow.

Lin Feng, who was about to intervene, quickly halted his steps upon hearing this, muttering under his breath, “This is a messy affair. So this guy’s a flower thief—Li the Scoundrel. Hmph, his name suits him well.”

Clang! As Lin Feng pondered, the three had already launched their attack, swords drawn, aiming to kill the man in the snow. Lin Feng watched closely; their techniques were nearly identical, clearly disciples of the same school. The gray-robed man being hunted, however, did not unsheath his sword, instead slipping and twisting like a live eel, always managing to evade their joint assault.

“This man’s movement is peculiar, yet he’s holding back. There must be more to this…” Lin Feng silently placed his hand on the Ink-Edge Sword at his waist, carefully observing the four as they tangled in combat.

Three flying swords struck at Li Jianren from different angles, yet failed time and again. Frustrated and humiliated, the three attackers grew furious. The thick-browed youth quickly withdrew from the fray, retrieved a talisman from his palm, and a cold gleam flashed in his eyes.

“Help! Somebody save me!” Li Jianren cried out, his figure flickering like drifting snowflakes, darting to the pavilion and then slipping behind Lin Feng.

“Li Jianren! If you have any guts, face us properly. Running around isn’t a skill!” The short-bearded man, flying a silver-white sword beneath his palm, followed with caution, sizing up Lin Feng before pointing at Li Jianren behind him.

“Zhao Xuguang, I didn’t provoke you. I only glanced a few times at junior sister Lingfeng—no harm done. Must you chase me all over, shouting for blood? Aren’t you tired?” Li Jianren brushed his fringe aside, dusted snow from his clothes, and appeared unruffled.

Lin Feng shifted aside a couple of steps, adopting an air of detachment.

The other two soon followed, crowding into the pavilion, swords drawn, eyes fixed on the gray-robed youth.

“Senior brother, no need for words. Let’s attack together!” The talisman-wielding man summoned his flying sword again, his face ferocious. He glanced at Lin Feng and barked, “If you don’t wish to die, move aside. Our Lishan sword technique won’t spare bystanders!”

Lin Feng smiled, moved his feet, and leapt out of the pavilion, summoning the Snow-Pearl Spear from afar as he prepared to leave.

He’d already discerned that these four were all at the Foundation Establishment stage, likely disciples of reputable sects. Best to avoid provoking them and inviting trouble.

“Wait! Which sect are you from?” The woman suddenly demanded, her tone brooking no refusal.

“I’m but a nobody. Why ask, miss? Farewell!” Lin Feng, annoyed, turned to leave.

“How dare you ignore junior sister’s question!” the thick-browed man thundered.

“Heh, my friend, do you answer every question from a stranger?” Lin Feng smiled, but his gaze sharpened.

“You’re courting death!” The man, enraged, drew his sword and attacked.

“Bullying others with force!” Lin Feng sneered, flicking his palm. The Snow-Pearl Spear shot forward, colliding fiercely with the man’s flying sword.

Boom! Flames erupted. The Snow-Pearl Spear bent like a bow and bounced back. The silver-white flying sword faltered, losing its momentum. The thick-browed man flicked his fingers rapidly, causing his sword’s silver glow to surge as it circled twice in the air and struck at Lin Feng anew.

Clang—Ink-Edge drew from its sheath, a jet-black light slicing through the snow and meeting the flying sword again and again. The two swords danced through the air like dragons and phoenixes, snowflakes swirling around them in a dazzling display.

The other three didn’t remain idle. Li Jianren seized the moment to leap from the pavilion, Zhao Xuguang and his junior sister shouted and gave chase, their swords flashing in the snow.

The thick-browed man’s flying sword, a lower-grade spiritual treasure forged from Tongjin Wood—a rare material harder than iron, often used for magical swords—was inferior to Lin Feng’s Ink-Edge. The latter had once belonged to a former head of the Hundred Flowers Sect, and its quality was unmatched.

“We’ve no quarrel, yet you act so arrogantly. If I don’t teach you a lesson, you’ll think I’m afraid of you!” With a thought, Lin Feng’s Ink-Edge knocked aside the silver-white sword and instantly returned to his hand.

The thick-browed man rejoiced, steering his sword straight at Lin Feng. In cultivator duels, most rely on magical tools for ranged combat—close quarters are highly dangerous, as even the strongest body can’t withstand a magical weapon’s strike. In his eyes, Lin Feng’s actions were suicidal.

“Immortal-Slayer!” Black light surged from Lin Feng, erupting in all directions so swiftly that neither figure nor sword could be seen. The first move of the Immortal-Slaying Sword Technique! Each of the six directions—east, south, west, north, up, and down—was guarded by boundless sword energy, imperious and unstoppable.

Crash! The Tongjin Wood sword, charging at full strength, was immediately shattered by the black light. From blade to hilt, cracks spread, and the sword splintered into fragments.

The Tongjin Wood flying sword was destroyed in a single blow by Ink-Edge.

Its master turned pale, as if his soul had fled, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.

“You—you destroyed my magical sword! Cao Xiong will fight you to the death!” Fury blazing, the young man drew another talisman and hurled it at Lin Feng’s head.

“Thunderbolt!” The talisman, saturated with lightning, crashed atop Lin Feng, leaving a charred pit in the snow, with flecks flying and the scene growing murkier.

“Haha, you’re doomed!” Cao Xiong wiped his bloody mouth and laughed aloud.

“You’re celebrating too soon.” A cold snort sounded—Lin Feng appeared behind him. Bang! Before Cao Xiong could turn, a tremendous force sent him flying, slamming him against a tree and rolling him in the snow, turning him into a snowman.

“You’re still alive? Cough…” Cao Xiong, stunned, crawled on the ground. “Earth-Escape—you used Earth-Escape to dodge the lightning? Impossible… cough, impossible…”

“You’re mistaken. That was Wind-Escape,” Lin Feng raised his brow. “Don’t be so brutish next time. I’ll spare you today—make good use of your life.”

“Fifth junior brother!” Zhao Xuguang shouted, riding his sword forward. “You injured my junior brother, destroyed his sword—you won’t leave here!”

“Can you stop me?” Lin Feng sneered. “You’d best watch your junior sister—lest she’s whisked away right under your nose.”

“Even if I can’t, I’ll try!” Zhao Xuguang roared, his fingers weaving rapidly. Suddenly, dozens of ice pillars burst from the snowy ground, thrusting straight at Lin Feng.

Ice-Control magic—a technique requiring advanced mastery of the Water Command.

Crack! Golden light flashed as all the ice pillars crashed against a giant bronze puppet, shattering into fragments.

“My turn now?” Lin Feng withdrew the puppet, and with a roar, a wave of flames erupted. Zhao Xuguang, panicked, used ice magic to block. Crack! The ice pillars shattered, and at his throat gleamed the Ink-Edge sword, its chill sharper than the snow.

Lin Feng stared into his frightened eyes and barked, “Well? Now, none of you are leaving!”