Chapter 60

"Really? Wasn't the manor's feng shui bad, and the owner already left?"

Shen Faxing raised his thick eyebrows, his sharp gaze like an eagle's, looking at the manor in the night.

Not long ago, Shen Faxing had gathered information here. However, when he came, it was just when the manor's owner had left. Ning Wuxie and the others had not yet arrived. Shen Faxing had been hiding in the deep mountains with his subordinates for several months, rarely coming out, so his intelligence was inevitably a bit outdated.

Suddenly, Shen Faxing's gaze focused, looking into the night. Two figures were running quickly, like galloping horses, showing extremely high martial skills.

Although Shen Faxing was not a top martial general, his martial arts were first-class. He knew that some top experts could generate wind with their steps, covering a thousand miles in a day. In the Tang army, there was a tiger general named Luo Shixin, who could cover eight hundred miles a day, like a thousand-mile horse. Unfortunately, he was captured and killed by Liu Heitan not long ago, dying young.

The newcomers were clearly also of extremely high martial arts.

"The newcomers are not friendly. Lord, should we retreat? This is not the time to reveal ourselves." The scholar also had some insight. Seeing the two figures running quickly, he frowned.

Shen Faxing shook his head slightly, looking at the hundred or so people around him, his confidence greatly increased. "I have nearly a hundred elite soldiers. Can't I handle two people? Those who can live in such a manor are either rich or noble. If we raid it, we might get a substantial fortune."

He pressed his hand on the saber, urging his horse. The hundred or so people under him all cost money, whether it was weapons and equipment or military pay. The wealth Shen Faxing had plundered was almost spent.

Shen Faxing's eyes were bright, and he shouted, gathering the surrounding soldiers.

The saying "a mountain looks close but a horse runs to death" is not false. The manor and the tenant village seemed to be just a distance between two mountains, but it was actually three miles away.

Tonight, Daoist practitioners gathered in Wuzhou, and Ning Wuxie did not dare to reveal his demonic aura, nor did he use qi. He ran all the way, and Ning Wushuang could barely keep up with him. Behind them, Chen Qinglong and his subordinates were chasing, a dozen or so people in total.

From a distance, Ning Wuxie saw more than ten fine horses, nearly a hundred soldiers with knives and spears, and the villagers gathered under the firelight. As he got closer, Shen Faxing's towering figure in the night looked like a fierce demon, quietly waiting.

After a gust of wind, Ning Wuxie stopped on the small road outside the village. Thirty meters away, Shen Faxing and his subordinates on the black-maned horses were waiting. Ning Wushuang followed closely, breathing heavily. Although his martial arts had greatly improved recently, breaking into the innate realm, he still fell short compared to Ning Wuxie, who remained calm and composed.

"Who are you?" Shen Faxing originally thought such experts must be old masters, but he was surprised to see two young boys. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he became more cautious.

Shen Faxing had also roamed the world in his youth and knew that he should not fear old masters but young heroes. Old masters had exhausted their potential and would not have significant backgrounds. However, some young experts reached the level of old masters at a young age, often backed by powerful forces, not to be trifled with. Even famous figures would show respect to such young experts, giving them some face.

But thinking of the hundred or so people around him, Shen Faxing's mind was in turmoil. Such young experts, backed by powerful forces, must have considerable wealth. He still wanted to compete for the world, and without capital, how could he do it? His evil intentions arose.

Shen Faxing had great ambitions and was strategic. He could rise in a chaotic era, showing his bravery. However, he was fickle and ruthless. If not, he would not have decided to join the Wenren clan and then tried to kill Li Xiaobian. Unfortunately, Li Xiaobian sensed it and counterattacked, forcing him to jump into the river to escape.

Seeing Ning Wuxie's small group, evil intentions arose in his heart. His eyes turned fierce, and he drew his saber, shouting, "Kill! Capture this person!"

His subordinates were taken aback, looking at Shen Faxing. Before leaving the mountains, Shen Faxing had strictly ordered them not to kill anyone. Now, he was giving a kill order, confusing them.

Shen Faxing's eyes turned cold, and his subordinates felt a chill. They looked at Ning Wuxie and Ning Wushuang and shouted in unison, "Kill!"

More than ten riders charged out. These were Shen Faxing's personal guards, the elite of his army. The others were bandits and ruffians he had gathered after fleeing here, without horses. They all shouted and rushed out together.

In this era, a good warhorse was worth a thousand gold, and even a mediocre horse was worth several gold. Having more than ten cavalry, Shen Faxing was considered wealthy. Even in the Tang army, only three thousand black-armored elite cavalry were maintained.

Seeing Shen Faxing suddenly order his subordinates to charge after a single question, Ning Wuxie was slightly surprised. Shen Faxing was even more ruthless than he imagined, ready to kill without any questions.

The cavalry charged like thunder. In just one charge, the more than ten riders covered the thirty-meter distance and were upon Ning Wuxie. By the time Ning Wuxie reacted, the lead rider was already swinging his long saber, chopping down from above.

The blade was sharp, and the cold air stung Ning Wuxie's cheeks. The blade grew larger in his eyes, and in this critical moment, Ning Wuxie could clearly hear his heartbeat. The chopping saber seemed to slow down, as if everything was moving in slow motion.

In an instant, the warlike and chaotic aura of the demon race surged in his blood. Ning Wuxie's figure flickered, dodging the saber, and his fists slammed into the neck of the galloping warhorse.

A clear sound of bone breaking echoed. The next moment, the galloping warhorse fell forward, neighing, its neck broken, and it died, collapsing. The rider tumbled off the horse, and as he stood up, a cold light flashed, and his head flew off, blood splattering.

"Master, are you alright? Catch the saber!"

Chen Qinglong finally arrived, beheading the rider. He looked at Ning Wuxie, who was surrounded by the cavalry, and threw a long saber. His subordinates, who had seen Ning Wuxie break the warhorse's neck with his fists, were stunned. Such terrifying strength was comparable to some of the greatest warriors.

However, this was not the time to be stunned. Shen Faxing's subordinates had already surrounded them. Long spears thrust forward, and Chen Qinglong's subordinates raised their sabers to meet them. The clash of metal was chaotic.

More than ten riders surrounded Ning Wuxie and Ning Wushuang. On horseback, long sabers continuously chopped down, and Ning Wuxie, without using his demonic aura, was even less powerful than Chen Qinglong. He caught a long saber and fought the cavalry.

Ning Wushuang's iron staff swept horizontally, and the terrifying force directly broke a horse's leg, causing the rider to fall. Ning Wushuang's staff smashed down, turning the rider into a bloody mess. Several sabers chopped down from behind, and Ning Wushuang raised his staff to block. A blade struck his shoulder, immediately cutting a deep wound, blood flowing.

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