Chapter 21

The black warrior staggered back a step, his face filled with confusion.

"A Lion's Roar? A Shaolin disciple? But the Lion's Roar is only used by elderly monks..."

At that moment, the retreating black warrior caught sight of the swordsmen and tribal warriors. They looked bewildered by the sudden, intense vibration, yet their faces remained flushed, and their pupils were slightly dilated.

The warrior quickly felt his own body. Then, he glared at Zhang Jian and muttered to himself.

"It's not a real Lion's Roar...! It lacks the power to dispel evil. Just a loud voice, powerful enough to stop the effects of poison? Where did you learn such a martial art...?"

Zhang Jian cleared his throat lightly, thinking that if it had been a truly loud voice, everyone's eardrums would have burst.

By using his internal energy to control the vibration of his voice, he managed to calm the excitement and agitation of the body without tearing the eardrums, which was his own interpretation of the meaning of "dispel evil" (破邪). He also remembered that later, the real Shaolin Lion's Roar did indeed have the power to dispel evil.

After soothing his dry throat with a cough, Zhang Jian spoke in a calm voice, different from before.

"Everyone, calm down. Don't just slash at each other."

Only after hearing his words did the swordsmen and tribal warriors realize they had become overly excited.

"Huh... What, what is this? My body feels so hot?"

"This shouldn't be something to get so excited about..."

"...That man's voice is incredible. He's definitely a master."

Dang Jian took a deep breath and then spoke in a low voice to the surrounding warriors.

"Everyone, open your chests and control your breathing. Something bad is in the air."

Only then did the warriors regain their composure and begin to use the power of the spirits. Their eyes, which had been glowing with killing intent, returned to their original golden color and sparkled. Among the swordsmen, some who sensed the strange atmosphere also began to use their internal energy.

"Stimulant? Not a poison, but something like this!"

"Use your internal energy to calm down!"

Of course, there were still those who hadn't regained their senses.

"Hey! Did those barbarians spray this? As expected, those bastards need to be beaten—"

Suddenly, a whistling sound was heard, and an arrow pierced the topknot of the man who had spoken, pinning it to a nearby tree. The man, whose head was pulled to one side, stumbled for a moment before realizing the arrow and the danger he had narrowly avoided, his red face turning pale.

The other swordsmen, though their expressions were not pleasant, remained silent as they saw Bi Lang, who had another arrow ready.

In any case, both groups were now calmer than before, able to look at each other. The black warrior, seeing this, realized that the situation he had hoped for was unlikely to happen. He frowned and quietly asked Zhang Jian.

"Who are you? From the Martial Arts Alliance? A family? Or perhaps the palace?"

"I'm more curious about your identity."

The black warrior chuckled at Zhang Jian's counter-question.

"An imitation Lion's Roar. It's quite a unique skill... Definitely not from the palace. Those proud bastards wouldn't copy a temple's martial arts. Tsk. This is going to be troublesome."

With a light click of his tongue, the black warrior swept his cloak over his shoulder, revealing the various bladed weapons covering his body.

From small daggers to larger knives, crossbow bolts, palm-sized circular blades, long needles, curved swords, and straight swords—various types of blades that could be thrown in different ways were attached to his body.

He revealed his weapons and asked.

"What's your name?"

"Zhang Jian."

The black warrior nodded.

"I'm Dang Jian. You've caused me a lot of trouble."

After revealing his name, he turned to look at the swordsmen.

"You're here to kill for money. I'll pay you now, so do your job. Go and kill those barbarians."

The swordsmen's expressions twisted at his overly blunt and rude words.

"What the hell. Who are you to order us around? Do you want to fight?"

"Those guys don't seem easy to handle. Do we really have to—"

Dang Jian smirked.

"Didn't you already know what you were getting into? Killing and plundering those savages. Now you want to pretend otherwise?"

The swordsmen's expressions twisted even more. Those who had regained their senses due to Zhang Jian's shout were now turning red and getting excited again. At that moment, Dang Jian waved his hand in the air.

The swordsman who had been cursing at him suddenly fell, foaming at the mouth.

"What, what is this? What the hell?"

"Could it be... not a stimulant, but a poison? To be able to spray such a poison into the air..."

The excited swordsmen quickly calmed down. Dang Jian smiled coldly.

"Go. Kill and plunder as you intended. All the gold and women you get from their village will be yours. I'll give you the antidote afterward. If you don't like it, just die."

"But... that man looks like a master," one of the swordsmen said, pointing at Zhang Jian with a tense expression.

Dang Jian turned and said.

"I'll deal with him. You take care of the savages."

The swordsmen, who had been watching the fallen warrior, exchanged glances and quietly drew their swords, turning to face the tribal warriors.

The atmosphere became strange. Though they were calmer, it was a silence before the storm, not the calm after the excitement. Zhang Jian, still staring at Dang Jian, turned to Red Wind and said.

"Fall back. Do what you intended."

"What about you?"

He met Dang Jian's dark, gleaming eyes and replied.

"I need to teach this guy a lesson."

"Be careful."

Red Wind and the tribal warriors, moving like shadows, retreated into the forest.

"Hey! They're running!"

"Chase them!"

The swordsmen, seeing the tribal warriors disappear into the forest, muttered among themselves and then drew their weapons, chasing after them. They moved away from Zhang Jian, as if avoiding an invisible wall.

As they ran past him, Zhang Jian remained silent, still staring at Dang Jian.

Only after the swordsmen had disappeared into the forest did Zhang Jian say.

"Your hands are quick."

Dang Jian, who had been smiling coldly, opened his eyes wide.

"You saw that? You have good eyes."

Zhang Jian was referring to the swordsman who had fallen. Unlike the easily deceived swordsmen, the reason the warrior had fallen was not the stimulant but a needle that had pierced his temple.

The stimulant was just a stimulant. Dang Jian had used a single gesture to knock out the warrior and deceive the others.

"Even knowing that, you didn't stop them?"

"If they came here without knowing, it would be one thing, but since they knew and still came to burn the village, they must bear the consequences."

Dang Jian chuckled.

"You're cold. Do you think the barbarians will defeat those swordsmen?"

Zhang Jian didn't answer. He took a step forward with his right foot, turned his body, and gripped his sword hilt with his left hand. Dang Jian, observing his stance, said.

"Alright. Let's see who can overpower the other first. How fast is your sword?"

He slowly stiffened his face, bent his knees, and lowered his stance. His hands, as if pressing down the air, moved slowly and smoothly, then stopped abruptly. It looked more like the starting posture of a certain martial art than a stance for throwing weapons.

The nearby birds and animals had fled, and the ones that had been chirping were now cowering. The forest path was so quiet that the faint sound of a distant river could be heard.

The two warriors, about ten paces apart, which was much farther than a typical one-on-one fight, stared at each other with deep, focused eyes. Their breathing was so slow that it seemed they weren't breathing at all, like statues.

For a long time, they stood in their rigid stances, looking for openings in each other's defenses. Inside, however, their muscles were tense, and their internal energy was surging, ready to explode at any moment.

Then, a scream from the distant forest was heard.

Before they could determine whose scream it was, the two warriors moved.

Dang Jian's arms disappeared in a blur from his shoulders. At the same time, Zhang Jian quickly closed the distance and drew his sword. The next moment, a clear metallic sound rang out as countless blades were deflected by Zhang Jian's sword.

Dang Jian, like a machine, launched various weapons. But Zhang Jian, deflecting all the weapons with his sword, approached him like a ghost. Sparks flew as metal met metal.

Before the metallic sound faded, Zhang Jian's sword, now close, sliced through the air where Dang Jian had been. But Dang Jian was already flipping backward, moving away.

"..."

It was a very short, lightning-fast exchange. Then, as if the movement had been a lie, they stopped. Zhang Jian remained in his sword-swinging stance, and Dang Jian in his backward-flipping stance.

Dang Jian, still in his crouched position, said.

"Most swordsmen in the New Continent can only strike once. That's all they know. Few truly understand and practice the art of movement. It's inevitable, given that the martial arts they learned were brought from the Central Plains without much change."

Their stances seemed the same, but there were differences. Dang Jian was sweating and breathing heavily, while Zhang Jian remained calm as before.

Dang Jian glanced at his scattered weapons. None of them had penetrated Zhang Jian's defenses. Those that had passed by only managed to make small holes in his clothes.

A smile appeared on his face, not a sneer but a smile filled with anticipation.

"Someone who only knows how to swing a sword once can't block my weapons. My weapons are like dozens of strikes in one. You seem a bit better than those half-trained ones."

A moment ago, Zhang Jian had blocked Dang Jian's weapons without making large movements. He simply observed the trajectory of the incoming weapons, adjusted the angle of his sword, and deflected them outward.

His keen eyesight, composure, and the ability to make such precise movements with his muscles and internal energy far exceeded the norm.

Zhang Jian, seeing the sweat on Dang Jian's nose, said in a low voice.

"Gold wasn't your real goal. You're just using it as a cover."

"Hmm. Of course not. Such wealth can be obtained elsewhere. This New Continent is vast, with abundant resources that haven't been fully explored."

Dang Jian, who had exerted a lot of energy in a short time, was drenched in sweat. He licked his salty lips and continued.

"Clearly not from the palace, and not a family warrior, given your lack of arrogance... So, the Martial Arts Alliance is the most likely. But I've never heard of someone like you in the patrol or strike teams. Are you some kind of secret weapon? Has the Martial Arts Alliance figured out the movements of the main group?"

Zhang Jian remained silent. It was pointless to talk when the other person was revealing information on their own.

But Dang Jian, seemingly gaining some confidence from Zhang Jian's silence, smirked.

"...None of those, damn it. You're just a wanderer in the wilderness."

At that moment, another scream came from the forest, this time a series of loud and small cries. Dang Jian, hearing the sounds, slowly stood up, wiped the sweat from his face, and said.

"The fight over there will be over soon. We need to finish this too. I've already bought enough time."

As if to prove that he had bought time, a powerful aura began to emanate from him. A dark, cold aura. Looking into his dark eyes, Zhang Jian felt a chill and his body stiffened. He had seen a similar aura before, from the leader of the Red Sand Gang.

Zhang Jian shook his sword once and stood straight, saying.

"Poison on your weapons, and now dark arts. What are you, really?"

"Hah, dark arts? No! This is a new art! Don't compare it to the dirty tricks you see in the wilderness! This is the true martial art of the Central Plains, evolved beyond the shadow of the Yu family!"

He shouted, drawing two short swords from behind his waist. The blades, slightly longer than his forearms, quickly lost their metallic sheen and turned dark, revealing the powerful internal energy within.

Zhang Jian examined Dang Jian's eyes. He seemed slightly excited but not completely irrational like the Red Sand Gang leader. If he could maintain his sanity while using such powerful internal energy, it would be a tough fight.

So, Zhang Jian ignored Dang Jian's attempts to talk and launched a surprise attack. He needed to win the fight before gathering any more information.

Feeling a strong sense of excitement from the power surging through his body, Dang Jian was caught off guard by Zhang Jian's sudden attack.

Zhang Jian's sword and Dang Jian's two dark blades clashed rapidly. Zhang Jian's sword was so fast that Dang Jian, despite the advantage of dual swords, could only block, dodge, and parry frantically.

But he was slightly off-balance. After a few quick exchanges, Dang Jian regained his composure and moved the internal energy of his new art. He could now keep up with Zhang Jian's sword and even counterattack.

He pushed Zhang Jian back, driven by a sense of awe for his own new art.

"Hahaha! What a pity! If you were truly unaffiliated, I could have invited you to join the main group and learn this new art!"

Dang Jian, showing his composure during the fight, saw an opening as Zhang Jian's sword was pushed back. He didn't miss the opportunity and thrust with his right sword.

At that moment, Zhang Jian took a large step back, moving out of the range of Dang Jian's shorter sword, and swung his sword like lightning. Dang Jian, trying to block the sword, was stunned.

Zhang Jian's single sword had blurred into three, heading for Dang Jian's neck.

What is this? Which one is real? How can a sword split into three? Is it just an illusion from the speed?

These four questions flashed through Dang Jian's mind. He managed to block two of the three swords with his own, but they scattered easily upon contact.

The last sword calmly sliced Dang Jian's neck.

Dang Jian didn't even scream. His head simply rolled off, and his body fell, repeating the same thought.

Zhang Jian, watching the body collapse, took a deep breath. After a moment, he wiped his sword, sheathed it, and turned to leave.

He had no new information, but he intended to help the tribal warriors. Capturing one of the swordsmen would likely reveal more. Besides, the screams from the forest had stopped.

However, Zhang Jian noticed the headless body trembling. On closer inspection, the muscles around the neck were tightly contracted, stopping the blood flow.

The rolling head's eyes were lifeless, showing no signs of revival, just a final, strange burst of life.

It was a fitting display of dark arts. It also showed that the fight could have been longer if the neck hadn't been cleanly severed.

Zhang Jian chuckled. It didn't matter. He had won. No matter the vitality, Dang Jian was dead. Watching the body collapse and bleed, Zhang Jian sheathed his sword and turned to leave.

The chaos in the valley was coming to an end.