Wandering Swordsman |

Upon hearing the urgent report from outside the door, Situ Dengfeng's brows furrowed instantly. His gaze met Jian Yihan's, and a hint of alertness flashed in both of their eyes. Situ Dengfeng's hand unconsciously tightened around the edge of the table, and his voice was steady and powerful: "Young Master Jian, please excuse me for a moment."

After speaking, Situ Dengfeng immediately stood up and walked nimbly and calmly towards the door. As soon as the door opened, a biting night wind rushed in, carrying a hint of mountain chill. Standing outside was a young disciple, pale-faced and breathing rapidly, clearly having just experienced a sprint. "Sect Master," the disciple's voice trembled slightly, "that person's martial arts are extremely high; he has already injured the gatekeepers and broken into the mountain gate."

Situ Dengfeng's expression grew even more serious, but he remained calm and asked, "Did you get a clear look at the person who came?"

"No, no," the disciple replied. "That person was too fast, and he was dressed in all black with his face covered by a bamboo hat, so we couldn't see him at all."

Situ Dengfeng immediately instructed the disciple who had come to report the news, "You stay here and keep watch, I'll go check the situation."

Jian Yihan, who was following behind Situ Dengfeng, immediately said, "Senior, I'll go with you."

So the two of them quickly walked out of the study, through the long corridor, and headed towards the mountain gate.

Along the way, the disciples of Jingtian Pavilion had already begun to gather, each holding a weapon and looking tense. When they saw Situ Dengfeng and Jian Yihan walking side by side, they all made way for them, their eyes showing both respect and unease.

When Situ Dengfeng and Jian Yihan arrived at the front courtyard, they saw a man dressed in black holding a long sword standing in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by a group of Jingtian Pavilion disciples.

The swordsman's figure appeared exceptionally lonely and mysterious. He stood silently, as if awaiting Situ Dengfeng's arrival, or perhaps silently declaring war. A heavy atmosphere permeated the air, so quiet that only the disciples' breathing could be heard.

"Who are you?" Situ Dengfeng stopped and demanded sharply, his voice carrying an undeniable authority. His gaze was sharp as a knife, locked onto his opponent, while he secretly circulated his internal energy, ready to strike at any moment.

Faced with this sudden question, the swordsman did not respond immediately. He slowly removed his bamboo hat, his movements fluid and confident, seemingly certain of his every move. Powered by his internal energy, the hat flew with tremendous force towards Situ Dengfeng.

Upon seeing this, Situ Dengfeng's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm. He quickly circulated his internal energy and easily caught the bamboo hat. In that instant, the atmosphere around them became even more tense, and everyone's eyes were focused on the two of them.

Without the concealment of the straw hat, everyone could see the man's face clearly—three deep, crisscrossing scars crisscrossed his features, each scar telling a bloody story. Normally, an ordinary person suffering such severe injuries should be either dead or crippled, but this man not only survived, but apart from this shockingly disfigured face, he showed no signs of weakness. His eyes were resolute and cold, as if these scars were merely proof of his path to becoming a powerful figure.

Seeing that Situ Dengfeng had so easily taken the bamboo hat, the swordsman's eyes flashed with excitement: "Situ Dengfeng is indeed worthy of his reputation! I dare to ask for a few moves!" His voice was respectful, yet full of fighting desire.

Before he finished speaking, he flashed forward like a ghost towards Situ Dengfeng, the long sword in his hand gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Knowing he couldn't let this duel affect the surrounding disciples, Situ Dengfeng reacted swiftly, stepping forward to meet the attack. Their figures intertwined in the night, the flashing blades creating a breathtaking spectacle. Each exchange was accompanied by the whistling wind and the crisp clang of metal, a fierce clash of strength and intellect.

The disciples of Jingtian Pavilion held their breath, watching the duel between masters intently. Their hearts pounded with each move, both worried for their sect leader and captivated by the spectacle.

During their exchange, Situ Dengfeng frowned slightly. Although he hadn't used his full strength yet, this swordsman was evenly matched with him, each move precise and powerful. As the number of exchanges increased, Situ Dengfeng gradually increased his intensity, trying to find an opening in his opponent's defenses. However, not long after he went all out, a strange sense of unease crept in.

A gentle breeze swept through the courtyard, bringing a chill that seemed to drain some of Situ Dengfeng's strength. A sudden wave of discomfort washed over him, causing his brow to furrow involuntarily. A sense of unease crept into his heart: 'Uh, could it be that the internal injuries caused by the Heart-Corroding Poison have flared up again? No! If so, I must finish this quickly.'

Just then, in a moment of distraction, Situ Dengfeng was caught off guard and the swordsman seized the opportunity, striking him in the chest with a palm strike. Situ Dengfeng was thrown back several steps, staggering and almost losing his footing. Seeing this, the swordsman pressed his advantage, immediately wielding his sword with his other hand and slashing at Situ Dengfeng with lightning speed, aiming straight for his throat.

Situ Dengfeng tried to swing his sword to defend himself, but found that the longsword in his hand seemed incredibly heavy, and he couldn't muster any strength. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, and the breath of death drew near. At this critical juncture, a crisp sound of clashing swords broke the silence of the night, echoing throughout the courtyard.

Jian Yihan rushed forward like lightning, gripping his sword tightly with both hands, and blocked the fatal slash for Situ Dengfeng.

Sparks flew as sword and blade clashed, producing a piercing screeching sound. Jian Yihan's eyes, sharp as an eagle's, were fixed on his enemy. A cold smile played on his lips: "If you're asking for a lesson, then you're being far too presumptuous."

The swordsman was clearly surprised that someone would come to his aid at this moment. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. "I didn't expect Jingtian Pavilion to have such a master. My apologies." His voice was deep and steady, as if the unexpected incident had not disrupted his rhythm.

Before the swordsman could finish speaking, Jian Yihan coldly asked, "Why did you trespass into Jingtian Pavilion?"

Moonlight shone on the swordsman's face, illuminating the three intersecting scars on his face, making his expression appear even more sinister. The swordsman's gaze slowly shifted to Situ Dengfeng, his tone carrying a barely perceptible hint of provocation: "Naturally, it's to deliver an invitation to Sect Leader Situ."

Jian Yihan felt a chill run down his spine, finding the words rather strange. He couldn't help but question, "Every move is a killing move. Is this how you send out invitations?" His voice was icy, revealing his disbelief in the explanation.

Before the swordsman could answer, Situ Dengfeng asked directly, "What invitation?"