Wandering Swordsman |

Her gaze, sharp as a hawk's, was fixed on the three men's movements. When she saw them suddenly part ways, she paused slightly, a hint of hesitation flashing in her eyes.

The silver-robed youth (Hua Tianyou) possessed a restrained sword intent, truly extraordinary; but the black-robed man (Shen Mo)... his every move exuded no killing intent, yet it calmed the entire street's atmosphere—like still water, yet unfathomable.

Her gaze finally settled on Shen Mo—though he didn't display his power, it seemed as if even the wind would swerve around him wherever he went. More importantly, Hua Tianyou would always subconsciously look at him before taking any action, like a subject awaiting orders.

He must be the one in charge.

Without further hesitation, Wumian's figure soared through the air like a night owl, her black robes fluttering as she quietly caught up with Shen Mo's silhouette.

She walked silently on the tiles, her steps as light as dust, each step precisely avoiding the hustle and bustle of the city, suppressing her aura to almost nothingness.

However, what she didn't know was that at the very moment she slid off the roof, Shen Mo turned his head slightly at the alley entrance, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

That wasn't smugness, but rather the composure of a hunter seeing his prey fall into the cage.

He walked slowly, seemingly nonchalant, but in fact, every step he took secretly conformed to the method of "guiding qi back to the void" in the "Formless Sutra". Within three zhang around his body, the qi was like a net, and every detail was clearly visible.

The faceless one thought he was invisible, but little did he know that he had already stepped into a net woven from true energy.

As they walked to a secluded alley behind a pharmacy, Shen Mo suddenly stopped.

"Aren't you tired after following me for so long?" He had his back to the alley entrance, his voice calm as usual, yet every word was like a needle, piercing the silence.

The faceless figure froze, its pupils shrinking beneath the mask—he had already sensed it?!

Before she could react, Shen Mo suddenly turned around, raised his right hand slightly, and flicked his fingers as if plucking a flower.

In an instant, it was as if all the air in the entire alley had been sucked out!

An invisible, immense force surged in from all directions, like a tidal wave crashing back, firmly locking Wumian in place. She tried to gather her energy to resist, but her inner essence vanished instantly, like a mud ox sinking into the sea!

"You—!" She was horrified and tried to retreat, but she couldn't even move her fingertips. She never expected that in just a moment, in a single exchange, she would be subdued by Shen Mo, without even having a chance to use the Purifying Blade.

Shen Mo stepped forward slowly, his movements as elegant as if he were strolling in a garden. He put his index and middle fingers together and gently touched her Jianjing acupoint.

Instantly, all of Faceless's meridians seemed to freeze, her true energy stagnated, and even breathing became difficult. She staggered half a step, knelt on one knee, her black robe fell down, and her silver mask gleamed coldly in the sunlight, but she no longer possessed any of her former majesty.

"Speak," Shen Mo said, looking down at her. His voice was deep but without any murderous intent. "Who are you? Why are you following me?"

Faceless gritted his teeth, remaining silent. For the Papal Inquisitors, the rule was death before divulge—an ironclad law etched into their very bones.

Shen Mo wasn't annoyed, and simply said, "Since you're unwilling to speak... then let me see your true face."

Before he finished speaking, his right hand had already reached out and deftly grabbed it with two fingers.

The silver mask was removed.

On one side of his face, a hideous scar ran diagonally from his temple down to the corner of his mouth. The skin and flesh were rolled up as if they had been scalded by a raging fire and forcibly stitched up. The edges were covered with bluish-purple bruises, as if even time could not heal this pain.

Shen Mo's pupils contracted slightly, and his heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason. So this was what lay beneath the mask...

And that half of her face was intact, with slightly disheveled blond hair, blue eyes like stars reflected in a cold pool, a high nose, and pale pink lips, clearly a rare beauty in the far west.

If it weren't for this scar, she would have been a noblewoman who stepped out of a painting, rather than a heretic inquisitor wearing a silver mask and wielding the power of life and death.

But now, beauty and destruction coexist, sanctity and terror are intertwined, giving rise to a heart-wrenching sense of sorrow.

Upon seeing his mask removed, Faceless trembled, his eyes blazing with fury like a volcanic eruption.

She glared fiercely at Shen Mo, her gaze like a knife, as if she wanted to tear him to pieces.

How dare you... how dare you remove my mask!

Within the Vatican, only three people have seen my true face!

And you—a heretic from the East—how dare you so casually expose my shame?!

She clenched her teeth, her nails digging deep into her palms, drawing blood, yet she still couldn't move an inch.

In those eyes, besides murderous intent, there was also a trace of deeply buried shame and despair—as if the most hidden wound had been ripped open by someone.

Shen Mo naturally felt the hatred in that gaze, which was almost tangible.

He paused for a moment, then suddenly realized that his actions were indeed abrupt. Regardless of the other person's identity, reopening old wounds is ultimately impolite.

He sighed softly, his movements as gentle as brushing dew from a flower petal, and picked up the mask again to put it on her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice calm but sincere. "It's not that I meant to offend you, but since you won't speak, I can only look for clues."

Faceless continued to stare intently at him, his breathing beneath the mask rapid and suppressed, but he did not struggle any further.

Seeing that no matter how he questioned her, she remained silent like a stone statue, only torturing him with her gaze, Shen Mo knew that pressing her for answers would be pointless. After a moment's thought, he had a plan in mind: rather than getting entangled here, it would be better to meet up with Hua Tianyou and Albert first, and then discuss the matter further.

He slowly stood up and gently patted Faceless's shoulder with his right hand—a gesture that seemed to soothe but actually concealed a hidden meaning.

The instant his palm touched her robes, a wisp of demonic energy quietly seeped into her body like a wisp of silk.

Faceless froze.

The aura was unfamiliar and cold, yet it carried a strange gentleness, like black water flowing through her veins, silently entangling her limbs and bones.

She was horrified to discover that although her true energy was still sealed by acupoints, her body... began to move uncontrollably!

She wanted to scream, but no sound came out; she wanted to struggle, but even her fingers were beyond her control.

She slowly stood up and followed Shen Mo steadily, like a puppet on strings, each step as precise as a normal person's, but her eyes were filled with fear and disbelief.

What... what kind of evil magic is this?!

He can actually control my body?!

A storm raged within her, and cold sweat soaked through her inner shirt.

Before this young man in black robes, her pride and joy in martial arts and stealth and tracking skills proved as vulnerable as a child's toy.

At the north entrance of the city, ancient locust trees cast their shade, and a stone bridge spans a stream.

Hua Tianyou and Albert had been waiting for a long time.

Seeing Shen Mo approach slowly, followed by a figure in black robes—a silver mask flashing coldly, his body stiff as a puppet—both of them were startled.

"My lord?" Hua Tianyou frowned slightly, his hand already quietly resting on the hilt of his sword.

But the moment Albert saw the silver mask, his pupils contracted sharply, and he exclaimed, "Faceless?!"

His voice suddenly rose, filled with disbelief and astonishment, and he even subconsciously took a half step back, his right hand instinctively pressing on the hilt of his sword at his waist—an instinctive vigilance when facing the Vatican's inquisitors.

Shen Mo's gaze sharpened, immediately noticing Albert's unusual behavior. He remained composed, simply asking, "You know her?"

Albert took a deep breath, suppressing the surging emotions in his heart, and said in a deep voice, "This person is called 'Faceless,' the Inquisitor of Heresy of the Holy See, directly under the Pope, with immense power—he can execute first and report later, he can command local religious troops, and he can even freely enter and leave the royal palaces of various countries!"

He paused, a hint of apprehension flashing in his eyes: "Rumor has it she is incredibly powerful and never shows her true face... My lord, how could you be with her..."