Wandering Swordsman |

After passing through several corridors, Shen Mo arrived at the back hall, which was littered with corpses. This place, which should have been bustling with activity, was now occupied by death. A dozen men in black stood silently in the doorway of a room, the swords in their hands reflecting a cold glint.

They were clearly waiting for something, or more precisely, guarding some important objective. The woman's screams coming from inside the house made the whole scene even more eerie and terrifying.

Shen Mo stood in a secluded corner, the sounds of a shattering vase and a woman's cries for help echoing in his ears as they abruptly ceased. His heart tightened, realizing the situation might be even more critical. Without hesitation, he immediately revealed himself, stepping forward to face the men in black.

"Who are you, daring to come to Jinzhou to kill people!" Shen Mo's voice was like a cold wind in the night, deep and powerful, carrying an undeniable authority. His gaze was like a knife, staring straight ahead, as if trying to pierce through the darkness and see through all the conspiracies.

Upon hearing the sudden sound, the men in black guarding the door became alert, instantly drawing their broadswords to their chests. Their faces were expressionless, but their eyes revealed vigilance and hostility, clearly surprised by this unexpected intruder.

One of the men in black was the first to react, pointing his knife at Shen Mo, his voice cold and threatening: "Oh! There's still one who escaped! Kid, wouldn't it be better to live peacefully? You had to show yourself, don't you want to live anymore!"

Shen Mo didn't answer, only gave a cold smile, a resolute glint in his eyes. He knew that at this moment, any words were superfluous; only actions could prove everything. So, before the other party could finish speaking, he launched a swift and decisive attack.

"Don't interfere, leave this kid to me!" the man in black who was pointing his knife at Shen Mo shouted, clearly wanting to take all the credit. Seeing this, the other men in black also thought that a boy who looked no more than ten years old couldn't cause any trouble, so they all put away their weapons and planned to watch from the sidelines.

However, their underestimation was quickly refuted by harsh reality. Shen Mo's movements were so fast they were breathtaking, each move precise and accurate, as if he had already seen through every weakness of his opponent. In just a few moves, the arrogant man in black was knocked to the ground by Shen Mo, and his broadsword was taken from his hand. This scene made the other men in black gasp in shock; none of them had expected that this seemingly ordinary young man would be so powerful.

"Who...who are you?" The man in black lying on the ground asked in shock and disbelief.

Shen Mo ignored him and quickly gripped the knife he had taken, delivering a final blow to the fallen man in black.

Then, Shen Mo's gaze swept over the remaining men in black. "Since you chose to kill in Jinzhou, be prepared to bear the consequences." His voice was calm and firm, yet filled with undeniable power.

Seeing their companion fall, the other men in black finally realized the danger and no longer underestimated the young man before them. Without hesitation, they rushed forward, surrounding Shen Mo and attempting to overwhelm him with their numbers. Swords flashed, and a thick killing intent filled the air.

But Shen Mo showed no fear; on the contrary, his gaze sharpened. At this critical moment, he silently recited the internal energy cultivation method of the *Wu Xiang Jing*, and his entire body's energy circulated accordingly. As the internal energy circulated, the surrounding scenery seemed to slow down, and every movement and every breath became clearly visible. The attacks of the men in black appeared unusually slow in his eyes, as if time had stood still.

"So these people aren't that good at kung fu after all. Now it's time to counterattack," Shen Mo thought to himself, a confident smile playing on his lips. His broadsword danced like a dragon, each swing skillfully dodging enemy attacks and creating openings for counterattacks. The blade flashed, sending chills down everyone's spines.

The men in black discovered that their attacks couldn't touch Shen Mo at all; instead, they fell one after another to his blade. Panic began to spread, their once orderly steps becoming chaotic. However, Shen Mo gave them no chance to catch their breath, taking advantage of their disarray to launch an even more ferocious offensive.

He moved with lightning speed, weaving among the enemies. His broadsword transformed into streaks of light, relentlessly reaping the lives of the men in black. Each strike was precise, as if he had anticipated their next move. The screams of the men in black rose and fell, blood splattered everywhere, and the area in front of the back hall resembled a scene of carnage.

As the last man in black fell to Shen Mo's blade, silence returned, except for the moonlight that still shone on the stone path, illuminating patches of crimson blood. A heavy stench of blood filled the air, as if the lingering scent of death still hung in the air. Shen Mo stood there, panting heavily, yet his eyes remained resolute and composed.

Without a moment's rest, Shen Mo rushed to the door, a sense of urgency surging within him. He knew that with every second that passed, the woman inside was in greater danger. He clenched his fists and shoved the door open, the sound of the bolt breaking and the door slamming open particularly jarring in the quiet night.

Behind the screen, at the head of the bed, a middle-aged man was undressing. He was presumably the leader of the men in black, clearly preparing to attack the woman. Hearing the door open, the man seemed to sense someone entering and immediately stopped undressing, quickly putting on the clothes he was already halfway through. His movements were swift and decisive, clearly indicating he was well-trained.

The scene inside made Shen Mo's heart tighten. His gaze swept over the chaotic scene: overturned furniture, clothes scattered all over the floor, and broken pieces of a vase, as if silently telling the story of a fierce struggle. He realized that he had arrived just in time; any later, and the consequences would have been unimaginable.

Shen Mo's gaze then turned to the screen that separated half the room. The shadow on the screen was clearly visible, and it was the figure of a middle-aged man, which was particularly obvious under the candlelight inside the screen.

Shen Mo kept his eyes fixed on the screen and approached slowly with light steps. The surroundings were eerily quiet, with only moonlight filtering through the window and casting dappled shadows on the floor, like the footprints left by the Grim Reaper.

Suddenly, a loud commotion shattered the silence. The middle-aged man kicked over the screen, which crashed down towards Shen Mo. Shen Mo immediately retreated, his movements as swift as a startled leopard. The screen slammed heavily to the ground with a dull thud, raising a cloud of dust.

When the dust settled, what came into view was a middle-aged man whose clothes were not yet fully on. He held a large knife, his eyes bloodshot, radiating an undisguised anger and murderous intent. Clearly, he had realized that his mission had been disrupted, and this young man was the key figure who had ruined everything.

"You brat, you're asking for death!" the middle-aged man roared, brandishing his broadsword and slashing at Shen Mo. The blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight, as if it could tear everything apart. Shen Mo swiftly retreated, his movements as fast as lightning, skillfully dodging the attack. At the same time, his peripheral vision inadvertently caught sight of the scene on the bed.

A girl of about fifteen or sixteen years old lay naked on the bed, motionless. Her profile held an expression of near despair as she looked at Shen Mo, her eyes filled with helplessness and fear. At that moment, time seemed to freeze. Shen Mo's heart clenched, and he felt an indescribable pain.