I am not a seventh-generation descendant of Lord Wu'an from the Qin Dynasty.

As Zhang Han reached out to pick up the Dragon-Snake Bow and Arrow, his gaze swept across the battlefield where blood was splattering everywhere.

As expected, the fourteen men that Bai Qi had just shot down were all the Mo family sword-wielding crossbowmen who were charging at the forefront.

"These martial arts practitioners are truly idiots. Facing a group of heavily armored human tanks, instead of deploying some sword-and-shield spearmen, they should at least have prevented these light crossbowmen from charging so far forward!"

Zhang Han, who subconsciously resorted to military tactics, was completely unaware that the assassins didn't want to use swords, shields, or spears. No, they were too conspicuous and impossible to reach!

These dozens of Korean crossbows were disassembled into parts and stored in the bottom compartment of a box, the result of years of scattered transport by caravans.

Zhang Han lifted his foot, picked up the Three Stone Dragon Tongue Bow, gripped it, stretched out his hand to draw the arrow in a half-circle, and then shot.

"Holy crap, why is it so heavy?"

A hapless swordsman from the Mohist school fell to the ground.

Despite being covered in blood, Bai Qi still exclaimed loudly, "Zhang Han, what excellent archery!"

Cen Ji's eyes bulged slightly as he held up his shield to protect him, pretending not to notice Zhang Han's darkening expression behind him.

Fortunately, Zhang Han only had trouble getting used to the power of the Three Stone Dragon Tongue Bow at first.

After a brief adjustment of his arm, he raised his hand and unleashed a series of three consecutive shots, each one hitting its mark perfectly.

However, with Bai Qi's masterpiece preceding it, it didn't seem as impressive at first.

Immediately afterward, no one had time to think about anything else.

The peasant disciples charged forward with swords drawn.

Zhang Han's mind slowed to process what he'd just thought, then he realized, "Damn it, he's become the main rearguard."

Bai Qi, leading his six sword slaves, faced the Mo family swordsmen directly in front of him. He seemed reckless, but he also managed to leave the peasant swordsmen behind him.

Now, Zhang Han glanced at Cen Ji, whose legs were trembling slightly, his eyes flickering. "Two against fifty, and this guy is unreliable. This is troublesome!"

"Retreat first, move closer to Bai Qizi's vicinity!"

As soon as Zhang Han finished speaking, Cen Ji raised his large leather shield to protect himself and ran away.

"Grass!"

Zhang Han cursed under his breath, but he had no choice but to grit his teeth and decisively release the Dragon Tongue Bow and quiver.

He wielded a shield in one hand and smashed through one man's neck, while slicing open another's throat with his long spear, carving a bloody path through the enemy.

But as soon as they rushed to Bai Qi's side, they found that even with the protection of the five sword slaves, Bai Qi's situation was becoming increasingly dire.

Sword marks were faintly visible on his outer armor, and the long spear in his hand had already broken in two and fallen to the ground.

The crossbow, useless in close combat, was lost; the bronze longsword in his hand was already showing signs of wear; and the broadsword was pierced diagonally into the chest of a man, which he took with him before he died.

The short dagger in his hand was used as a throwing knife, directly stabbing and killing a person. He turned his head and bent over, only to be pressed to one knee by an old man with gray hair dressed in coarse linen clothes and wielding a broadsword.

"The bloodthirsty grandson must die!"

"No, where are your reinforcements?"

Under Zhang Han's gloomy gaze, a flash of bloodlust suddenly appeared in Bai Qi's eyes.

With a clang.

The longsword of Lord Wu'an, its blade covered with blood-red veins, was drawn and slashed diagonally downwards, forcefully slicing off the tip of the broadsword in the gray-haired old man's hand.

The gray-haired old man held his abdomen, which was showing faint bloodstains, with one hand, while his eyes narrowed as he looked at the long sword in Bai Qi's hand, which was stained with blood and seemed to have blood threads swimming around it.

"The legacy of blood slaughter has finally reappeared in the world."

The old man in short clothes swept over with a sickle and said, "This kind of lineage that cultivates through killing cannot be allowed to continue."

Zhen Gang blocked his powerful attack head-on, while Luan Shen took the opportunity to launch a flanking attack.

An elderly man in black robes sneered, "Kill him! We can't give him any chance to grow!"

Under his relentless barrage of slender swords, even the combined efforts of Duan Shui and Wang Liang could only barely hold on.

While protecting Bai Qi, Mi Hun couldn't help but curse under his breath.

"Why haven't those bitches, Qi Linglong, arrived yet?"

In an instant.

Perhaps it's because of the different standing angles, or perhaps the distance was already close enough.

Zhang Han shuddered violently, his intuition instantly locking onto the face of an ordinary-looking middle-aged man from the Mo family. 'The sword in his hand…'

"Watch out, it's the Death Sword!"

"Within ten steps, it's already too late!"

The middle-aged man, who had been pretending to be an ordinary Mo family swordsman, suddenly sneered and fixed his gaze on Bai Qi. He then drew his sword from its sheath.

The whole world seemed to stand still.

The middle-aged man from the Mo family slowly pulled out the Death Sword, took a step forward, and his aura weakened.

The second step is that the skin on both cheeks collapses.

The third step is when all the essence and blood in the body are depleted.

The fourth step is that a full head of black hair turns white.

Fifth step, all strength in the body is exhausted...

Is it only possible to go up to step five?

The middle-aged man from the Mo family knelt down with a thud, and the Death Sword flew out of his hand.

On his deathbed, he looked up at Bai Qi with an incredibly calm gaze.

"What a beautiful, vibrant youth! It's such a pity, I'm about to die!"

However, in the last second before his consciousness faded, he only saw a blood-red sky descend.

……

Upon hearing the name of Zhang Han's fatal sword, the five of the six sword slaves charged forward with eyes wide open in fury.

"Sir, be careful!"

The three elderly men, one of short gray and one of black, desperately tried to stop them.

"He's dead!"

In that instant, Bai Qi felt the light and shadow before his eyes freeze, and a huge white sun rose from the opposite side and suddenly crashed straight down on him.

This is……

"A white rainbow pierces the sun!" Zhang Han's sluggish voice slowly drifted over.

The next breath, Bai Qi felt the Wu'an Jun sword in his hand suddenly tremble in mid-air.

A blood-red sky quietly unfolded, instantly staining the entire world crimson.

An old man with blood-red eyes and white hair, dressed in a white robe, with a blood-red chest and abdomen and thick black mist emanating from his knees and below, silently emerged automatically from the Wu'an Jun Sword.

With a wave of his hand, the Wu'an Jun Sword automatically fell into the old man's palm, and he swung it forward with force.

A streak of blood-red sword light flashed out and collided head-on with the white sun.

Boom~

The void exploded.

Everyone felt a piercing buzzing in their ears.

A blinding white light exploded, my vision went black, and all I could see was a dizzying, spinning sensation.

The whole world went from raging fury to suffocating silence.

But almost immediately afterward.

Everyone made their first, instinctive choice.

Even though they knew the other person couldn't hear them, the three old men—one with black hair, one in short sleeves, and one in a black robe—still instinctively shouted, "The sword spirit is gone! Seize the sword!"

Immediately afterwards, they rushed towards the spot where the Death Sword had been left.

The five sword slaves instinctively protected Bai Qi, who looked like he was about to collapse.

Immediately afterward, Zhen Gang, observing the movements of the three old assassins, suddenly realized what was happening.

"Soul-Destroying Protector!"

"Stop them!"

The last words of Zhengang and the gray-haired old man rang out almost simultaneously.

Upon hearing the sound, the disciples of the Mo and Nong families, who had already gathered around, immediately rushed forward without regard for their own safety.

Despite their best efforts to clear out the small fry, Zhengang and the other three were still a fraction slower than expected.

Just then.

Three white-haired, black-armored old Qin soldiers suddenly sprang out from the forest where the Death Sword had been left.

The way he held the blood-red Qin sword with both hands immediately caused the three old men—one with gray hair, one in short sleeves, and one in black robes—to all shrink in the pupils.

"They're remnants of the Blood-Clad Guards!"

The gray-haired old man made the first choice, charging forward, "You all go first, I'll hold them off!"

An elderly man in a short-sleeved shirt followed closely behind, saying, "One person isn't enough, I'll fill in later!"

The old man in black robes did not pause for a moment, only a surge of heroic spirit emanated from him.

"My two elder brothers, please go ahead. I will take the grandson of Blood Slaughter down to join you shortly."

The old man in black robes had no time to pay attention to the clanging battlefield behind him. He reached out and grasped the hilt of the Death Sword, a slight smile playing on his lips...

"Bai Qizi, your time has come!"

"Giggle~"

A rich, sweet aroma, accompanied by a soft, seductive laugh, gently drifted into his ear.

"Old sir, the Spider Maiden has been waiting for a long time."

A seven-colored spider, the size of an infant's fist, suddenly crawled out from behind the hilt of the deadly sword, accompanied by a sweet, cloying fragrance.

Two fine, bloody streaks ran along the old man's stiff arm, then up to his throat. The monstrous maw bit down, injecting the seven-colored spider venom…

A middle-aged woman dressed in black leather and wearing a colorful spider mask casually drew a jade-white longsword that shimmered with rainbow light and held it in her hand.

Spider Maiden's gaze fell on the battlefield where the five old men were fighting fiercely, and her brows furrowed slightly.

With a light step, she leaped several steps, her slender figure flashing as she traveled several meters forward.

Only faintly, in the changing light and shadow of the sun shining through the branches overhead, one could see a faint black sword constantly being drawn from its sheath.

The black sword was silent, the white sword cut through the wind, and almost instantly pierced the hearts of the two old men who were ready to die.

However, as Spider Maiden looked at the three old Blood-Clad Guards—one dead, one crippled, and one mute—her brows furrowed involuntarily.

"She just got back and immediately set up a trap, but someone died right away. What will she tell her new boss? She's in a difficult position!"